(no subject)
from www.ishkur.com:
Sex and the City June 16 2008
I have to applaud the (gay male) creators of this show/movie/cult phenomenon for coming up with something that does such a great job masterfully catering to female fantasies. Seriously, it is so well-crafted to appeal to women it's strange that no one came up with it before. The four women aren't characters insomuch as they are archetypes of the feminine early life crisis.
The main character manages, despite being very average-looking, to end up with a tall, handsome, successful, wealthy guy -- Mr. Right (or Big, I should say.) This appeals to the female fantasy of being a homely, ordinary woman who snags a much superior man far out of her range/league/class who satisfies all of her needs for a protector/provider. The Cinderella complex.
Then you have the most attractive woman -- which, by virtue of her being so, means she is the one most resented by the audience -- end up with the short, bald guy, thus simultaneously sending the message: "look how noble we women are -- we don't care about looks!" The Medusa complex.
Then there's the female character who satisfies the "have sex like a man without getting emotionally involved" fantasy that is the strongest and most complicated taboo to women: To lose inhibitions, go wild and feed the libidio in bachanalian lust and conquest, but without the icky slut/whore stigma attached to it. The Hester Prynne/double standard complex.
And lastly of course, there's the final character who satisfies the need to have a realistic character who actually acts sort of like a real woman in the real world. Too bad she's a bitchy redhead, though.
The fact that the show acts as a primer on premium, superficial living to shallow, shoes-and-handbagged-obsessed stupid bitches everywhere, proves that its gay writers know their market well: Simply write women as if they are gay men.
That's it. That's the formula. All women, deep down inside, just want to be the celebrity slobbering, high fashion obsessing, expensive wine drinking, home decorating loving, expensive shoes coordinating, cheesy music listening fantastically flaming faggots they all wish they could be.
Sex and the City June 16 2008
I have to applaud the (gay male) creators of this show/movie/cult phenomenon for coming up with something that does such a great job masterfully catering to female fantasies. Seriously, it is so well-crafted to appeal to women it's strange that no one came up with it before. The four women aren't characters insomuch as they are archetypes of the feminine early life crisis.
The main character manages, despite being very average-looking, to end up with a tall, handsome, successful, wealthy guy -- Mr. Right (or Big, I should say.) This appeals to the female fantasy of being a homely, ordinary woman who snags a much superior man far out of her range/league/class who satisfies all of her needs for a protector/provider. The Cinderella complex.
Then you have the most attractive woman -- which, by virtue of her being so, means she is the one most resented by the audience -- end up with the short, bald guy, thus simultaneously sending the message: "look how noble we women are -- we don't care about looks!" The Medusa complex.
Then there's the female character who satisfies the "have sex like a man without getting emotionally involved" fantasy that is the strongest and most complicated taboo to women: To lose inhibitions, go wild and feed the libidio in bachanalian lust and conquest, but without the icky slut/whore stigma attached to it. The Hester Prynne/double standard complex.
And lastly of course, there's the final character who satisfies the need to have a realistic character who actually acts sort of like a real woman in the real world. Too bad she's a bitchy redhead, though.
The fact that the show acts as a primer on premium, superficial living to shallow, shoes-and-handbagged-obsessed stupid bitches everywhere, proves that its gay writers know their market well: Simply write women as if they are gay men.
That's it. That's the formula. All women, deep down inside, just want to be the celebrity slobbering, high fashion obsessing, expensive wine drinking, home decorating loving, expensive shoes coordinating, cheesy music listening fantastically flaming faggots they all wish they could be.