And Just Like That... Season 2: Charlotte somehow became the best part of the Sex and the City revival.
SlateYou know what I used to say when pondering the age-old Sex and the City question of “Which of the gals are you?” I had the most annoying answer, one that is slightly adjacent to my colleague Luke Winkie’s correct assessment that everyone is really a Carrie: “I’m Carrie,” I’d say, “but with a little bit of Miranda and Samantha mixed in.” Or in other words: I’m anything but Charlotte. As someone who recently had COVID and suffered through the sick-day indignity of watching both Sex and the City movies, I would actually pinpoint Charlotte’s transformation to shortly after Carrie’s failed honeymoon in the first film. Even Charlotte’s whole dog thing has become less annoying, with her embracing the strangeness of her obsession rather than being prim about it. But my favorite 60 seconds of the entire season is in the most recent episode, when Charlotte reenters her apartment to find her frustrated family asking for things, while she’s been out with her much younger co-workers to celebrate her big sale to Sam Smith, of all people.
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"And Just Like That," Charlotte reminds us of the longstanding fatphobia in "Sex and the City"
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