The Girls have Gone Wild

I was at work a few days ago, making myself a cup of tea when the 18 year old receptionist came in.

'How was your weekend?' she asked. 'I got so drunk. Omigod I was so drunk. I went out to Black Betty's and I was wearing this top that had these strips that went over my boobs and my boobs fell out. Three times. I had hickey's on my tits when I got home. From chicks! I had lipstick all over my boobs. I was soooo hungover. '

That's right. Girls Gone Wild had hit my suburban office.

It could just be that Im of another generation, or it could just be that I might be cranky about being post feminist but this poor bitch is post, post feminist, and maybe that is worse.

My grandma would say 'What is the world coming to' or maybe 'Get that Mary Magdalene out of here', but Im writing this blog because this morning tea episode was the very prompt that started me writing. What are women coming to? Im no grandma, but the Girls really have Gone Wild.

The Chicks

Its official, Ive done the test 'which sex & the city character are you' and Im Miranda. I always knew I would be but I guess I had to see it in black and white for myself to truly accept my fate.

There was an episode where Miranda has problems signing legal paperwork to own property because she does not have a husband. All the pressure from the bank leads to an anxiety attack about dying in her new apartment and having her face eaten off by cats. I understood where she was coming from.

And yes, I thought Sex & the City was cool too. But these days Im not so sure.

I mean, lets break down the story. Four single career women in the Big Apple. All living alone and enjoying a consumerist lifestyle of fashion, nightclubs, martini's and lots of shoes. Every day these highly liberated women get together for lunch to discuss how much sex they're having, who is dating who, whether he called last night and most importantly... is he the One?

And four, five, six episodes in, what happens? They all get married.

Four single women, freely consuming men and life until one day they give in and get married. The end.

I cant help but wonder, if getting Carrie's voice out of my head requires a psychologist or a big dose of seratonin. Because somehow, I dont know if this was what 'the new booty box' was all about.