I'm happy to report that the theater was packed to the brim with scads of girlfriends half of whom were saving seats with their big purses for their girlfriends yet to arrive (or in the girls room). SUCH a girl thing. (Does a guy ever save a seat for another guy? No. And...even if he wanted to? What would he use? His wallet? I think not. Please make me stop with the parentheses.)
Anyway, the movie. Was...okay. The quality and content was for the most part on a par with the TV show. At times, not so much, but it has to be a bit harder, after all, to write witty repartee to fill two plus hours as opposed to thirty minutes. And anyway, nothing was going to live up to the hype. Unless SJP were to, I don't know, actually shit a Manolo Blahnick in the middle of 5th Avenue. Which...not to spoil it for you, but that doesn't happen in the film.
It was wonderful to see all the girls back together again and fun to be among a large crowd of enthusiastic women (and about three gay guys) who spontaneously cheered and applauded upon seeing the opening credits. The clothes were mostly divine and I don't think it's a spoiler to say there are positively scrumptious wedding dresses featured from the world's top designers. At the center of the story are some watered silk royal blue Manolo pumps with jewel encrusted buckles that are. To. Die. For. I'm beginning to tear up at the memory of them.
On the other hand? Also prominently featured was the dreaded gladiator sandal. God, what is WRONG with people? I don't care what anybody says, this is a dreadful fashion trend and not, in my opinion, flattering on the spindliest of gams. These shoes nearly made SJP's spaghetti noodle legs look beefy and you know that's saying something.
If you're not sure what shoe I refer to, here's a sample:
Gag me. Seriously.
It brings to mind my violent aversion to the El Camino...thing back in the day. I mean...was it a car or a truck?
In the case of the gladiator...is it a boot or a sandal? A soot or a bandal? It looks as though it USED to be a boot or a sandal. Before the nuclear holocaust. But now? Now it's something in between. Something horribly wrong. It's a new strain of mutant shoe. And, God help us, it seems to be spreading.
But I digress. Overall, I recommend the Sex and the City the movie just for the sheer fun of it because we all need a heapin' helpin' of over-the-top fashion (with the exception of the GS) and sex now and then. I mean, you gotta go, right?
But have a cosmopolitan or some-such fruity drink with your girlfriend(s) before the show and buy your ticket online ahead of time so you won't be rushed. Then you can snicker at all the poor sods in line like we did.
[Editors note: More spacing issues at the beginning of this post. ARGH! Damn you blogger double-space glitch! Damn you to hell!]