Here’s the Sarah Jessica Parkerette story I mentioned yesterday. When Sex and the City was in full swing, very young girl tourists would come to New York in their best approximations of a Carrie-type outfit. Because of the show this is what they imagined a sophisticated New York girl would wear. In reality, most New Yorkers would never dress like Carrie, although now and again Carrie had on a very cute top, and there were a few good dresses, more than a few towards the end, and other great pieces.
So the girls would have stood out just for trying, but on top of that they’d get it horribly wrong, and often they looked like very bad Halloween Carries. But it was touching. They’d do their best to act natural, to adopt “I’m from New York, I dress like this all the time, I’m just a girl out on the town” attitudes and those of us around them would never in a million years try to spoil their fun. We’d never stare, never ask them where they’re from. I remember one girl walking into a store in the most clownish Carrie outfit that we all almost gasped. It was remake of the outfit from the beginning, when she gets splashed by the bus. But we caught ourselves, didn’t say a word, did our best to pretend she was one of us. She was terribly young and no one wanted to embarrass her.
In case anyone thinks I’m being judgmental, I’m a jeans and tshirt girl mostly. I’m not a fashionista, although I love love love fashion, so I appreciate the people who are. They are walking works of art. The Carrie-girls were just young girls playing dress-up and they were achingly sweet.
Skaters along the Hudson River.
Not one of them was wearing a helmut, of course.