Latest news with #SATC
Yahoo
8 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
And just like that ... we're obsessing over Carrie Bradshaw's style again
When Sarah Jessica Parker first met with the Sex and the City costume department ahead of the series premiere in 1998, two items sat on a couch awaiting her inspection: a vintage clutch and a vintage fur. To Molly Rogers, costume designer for both SATC and its spinoff, And Just Like That…, those items instantly set the tone for years of fashion to come. 'It wasn't like we went to Barneys,' Rogers tells Yahoo Entertainment. The purse and coat, purchased at a downtown consignment store, could only have been found by a true fashionista who embraced the eclectic. Parker's Carrie Bradshaw is the ultimate Cinderella story — an aspirational romance in style and substance. The character didn't become an instant icon by following the rules. Instead, Carrie invented a style all her own: showing up for picnics in dirndls, wearing belts around her bare midriff and pairing $5 tutus with stilettos that most of us could only dream of purchasing. That playful, seamless high-low blend — thrift store finds paired with designer couture — is her fashion fingerprint. It endures to this day, as young shoppers scour their local thrift stores for treasures to pair with more modern finds. Maiia Krylova, founder of the popular Instagram account @carriebradshaws_outfits — which meticulously tracks down items from Carrie's closet — believes the character's signature style is 'the ultimate expression of fearless individuality and emotional storytelling through fashion.' 'She didn't dress to impress others or to follow rules; she dressed to express exactly who she was at that moment,' Krylova told Yahoo Entertainment. Nevertheless, Carrie's fashion maximalism seems to be hitting differently these days. Her outfits on And Just Like That…, the sequel series to SATC, have repeatedly gone viral, and not always in a good way, as fans scrutinize Carrie's giant hats and pigeon purses and declare them over-the-top. But why all the sudden pearl-clutching over the woman who once wore a bird on her head to her own wedding? Isn't all of this in character? One could attribute a healthy portion of the critiques to ageism. 'People really did not want the girls to change' in AJLT, Rogers says. 'They want to keep them in this time capsule, where Carrie's at the gay club with the bandana around her arm and a see-through tank on.' Now in her 50s, some might think it's time for Carrie to give up the wacky accessories and give Chico's a try. But viewers' sudden heel-turn might stem from deeper factors as well. By all accounts, Carrie's specific approach to dressing herself should be a huge hit right now. "Loud luxury" is 'in' and has been for years. Think: fluffy furs, bold animal prints, conspicuous logos and clothing in rich shades of red and emerald green. Productions like The White Lotus and Another Simple Favor have flaunted an ostentatious style, and as the Cut notes, artists like Chappell Roan and Doechii have also embraced (and subverted) the "boom boom" aesthetic of the '80s with playful power suits. That's not the only Carrie-coded trend that's surging right now, either. There's also fashion maximalism, which, like loud luxury, often thrives during times of economic uncertainty. On runways and on TikTok, people are going all in on high-concept outfits, playful accessories and lots and lots of layers. Carrie and her hybrid wardrobe are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to SATC's fashion influence. Consider also younger generations' dedication to curating hyper-specific 'aesthetics' as a way to wordlessly introduce themselves to the world. What was Carrie's BFF Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia Nixon) if not the original 'office siren' in a power suit? Meanwhile, Charlotte York (Kristin Davis) had the 'old money aesthetic' on lock in pearls and twin sets, and the brash, sexy Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall) was basically the "boom boom" queen, always wearing her wealth and power on her immaculately tailored sleeve. When it came to personal style, Rogers says each of the four main characters' 'lanes' was clearly defined and easy to articulate. SATC costume designer Patricia Field often described the show as 'the first moving fashion magazine,' Rogers says, with Carrie as its cover girl. With that in mind, it's even easier to understand why the core four each have such distinct wardrobes. 'We dressed them, in the beginning and now, a little more heightened than normal-life reality,' Rogers says, 'and I think that has a lot to do with curating a look by an aesthetic.' Decades after the original show's release, Krylova can draw a direct line from its approach to style to the shopping habits of younger generations today. The show 'showed us that style wasn't just about looking good; it was about telling the world who you are without saying a word,' she explains. Each generation has taken slightly different lessons from that ethos. 'Generation Z, for example, fully embraces the show's fearless experimentation,' Krylova says. 'They're not afraid to color clash, mix high fashion with second-hand finds and wear something purely for the drama, even if it breaks all the so-called 'fashion rules.'' Meanwhile, millennials 'approach the show's influence from a more lifestyle-focused perspective. They deeply connect with the emotional undertones behind each character's wardrobe choices. For them, fashion isn't just about being seen; it's about being understood.' Elizabeth Castaldo Lundén, a research fellow at the USC School of Cinematic Arts who has published books and articles about fashion, media and communication, explains to Yahoo that film and TV have shaped consumers' understanding of fashion for more than a century. For example, the experimental films that preceded the silent era often showcased Parisian fashions, exposing American women who could never attend a runway show to the trends of the time. The fashion tie-ins to films of the 1920s and '30s foreshadowed the product placement deals to come, and American television, in particular, stemmed directly from the advertising industry — which made it the perfect vehicle to inform consumer choices. The 1980s were a formative time, Castaldo Lundén says, as costume departments partnered with department stores to not only sell certain dresses seen on shows like Dynasty to the middle class, but also to sell patterns for those ensembles to audiences who could not afford the ready-made garments. Years later, Sex and the City perfected the art form with prolific product placement both in the original series and subsequent films — making itself essentially synonymous with brands like Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik. 'They are not only selling the fashions in the show,' Castaldo Lundén says. 'They are selling the idea that womanhood comes through the out-of-control consumption of fashion.' Devout fans might see SATC's influence a little differently. 'Television has always had a profound impact on how viewers see fashion because it doesn't just show clothes, it tells stories through them,' Krylova says. 'Unlike fashion shows or magazine editorials, which often feel unattainable, television brings fashion into real-life narratives. Viewers don't just admire what their favorite characters wear; they emotionally connect with them.' People's favorite shows don't just influence the clothes people want to wear, according to Krylova; they also shape why they want to wear them. 'And that's where the real power lies — in showing viewers that fashion isn't just about trends; it's about telling your own story through the choices you make every day,' she says. And Just Like That… costume designer Danny Santiago, who also worked on the two SATC movies, noticed that a lot of younger audiences who've newly discovered the show find inspiration in its '90s and Y2K fashions. 'They want to have that sort of aesthetic to them,' he says, 'so they do seek that type of look out — the certain type of handbags and the way that the skirts are falling, and the crop tops and all that sort of stuff, layering … I see it on Instagram all the time,' he tells Yahoo Entertainment. In that sense, we could call Carrie Bradshaw our first fashion influencer. So why are self-appointed style critics on social media hating on her gonzo outfits? The simple answer is that many people hold an antiquated, narrow-minded view of how 'women of a certain age' should dress and behave. Rogers and Santiago certainly heard more than their fair share of these opinions in the lead-up to the series premiere of And Just Like That … in 2021. 'We got so many questions about, 'What are you gonna do with them? They're at a certain age,'' Rogers recalls. 'I am at that certain age … and I was like, 'I don't know why we would dress them like they'd had lobotomies.'' Santiago agrees that the idea that older women should abandon their personal styles is 'old-fashioned.' Maybe women felt this way 30 years ago, he posits — 'like they needed to become something else, in a way of maturing as who they are in their lives. But I feel that [idea] doesn't exist anymore.' But to some fans, Carrie's wardrobe has slowly crept away from its original genius. While Krylova believes that the writer's personal style evolved beautifully in the original series, subsequent appearances of the character in film and on AJLT are a different story. In those productions, she says, 'Carrie's style gradually wore itself out. It became less and less realistic and more and more theatrical, eventually turning into something completely unsupportable.' The way Krylova sees it, she and other fans began shying away because Carrie's 'fits 'had become too theatrical and out of touch with reality.' Nevertheless, she admires the way that Carrie 'continues to challenge the outdated notion that women should remain invisible, modest or reserved as they grow older.' Love them or hate them, Krylova says Carrie's new outfits have 'sparked conversations about women's freedom and the right to dress however they want at any age. And in that sense, Carrie's fashion still does exactly what it was always meant to do — provoke, break boundaries and, most importantly, remind us that self-expression has no age limit.' There might also be a third reason that Carrie's wardrobe is not playing quite as well with its target audience. In the original series, Carrie's unique fashions amplified her position as an outsider — which made her more relatable to an audience that, for the most part, would also have felt out of place among New York's high society. Now, she's as wealthy as anyone else, with the palatial Gramercy Park townhouse to prove it. Within that context, her expensive, enviable wardrobe could feel like an expression of a social standing that viewers will never achieve. In the original series, Carrie's high-low wardrobe mirrored the way she stood with one foot in each of two worlds. On one hand, her spending was the stuff of fantasy. 'It wouldn't be possible to acquire that closet — even in terrible debt — without going bankrupt,' Castaldo Lundén says. At the same time, she says Carrie's wardrobe echoes a concept that first emerged in the 1800s: Those from outside the aristocracy often adopt wardrobes that mimic that class in the hopes of joining it. Men would do so in order to do more business with old money, while women did it in order to marry rich. Just look at who Carrie married. By achieving her ultimate fantasy with Mr. Big (Chris Noth), Carrie completed her Cinderella story — the one that made viewers fall in love with her in the first place. That might have fundamentally shifted the way audiences relate to her, clothes and all. The good news? Carrie has never dressed for anyone but herself. Rogers and Santiago argue she wouldn't give anyone's wardrobe criticisms a second thought. 'If real-life Carrie was walking through the park and people were commenting on her hat like they comment on Instagram, I think she'd ignore it,' Rogers says. 'She'd ignore it,' Santiago agrees. 'Totally.'
Yahoo
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
And just like that ... we're obsessing over Carrie Bradshaw's style again
When Sarah Jessica Parker first met with the Sex and the City costume department ahead of the series premiere in 1998, two items sat on a couch awaiting her inspection: a vintage clutch and a vintage fur. To Molly Rogers, costume designer for both SATC and its spinoff, And Just Like That…, those items instantly set the tone for years of fashion to come. 'It wasn't like we went to Barneys,' Rogers tells Yahoo Entertainment. The purse and coat, purchased at a downtown consignment store, could only have been found by a true fashionista who embraced the eclectic. Parker's Carrie Bradshaw is the ultimate Cinderella story — an aspirational romance in style and substance. The character didn't become an instant icon by following the rules. Instead, Carrie invented a style all her own: showing up for picnics in dirndls, wearing belts around her bare midriff and pairing $5 tutus with stilettos that most of us could only dream of purchasing. That playful, seamless high-low blend — thrift store finds paired with designer couture — is her fashion fingerprint. It endures to this day, as young shoppers scour their local thrift stores for treasures to pair with more modern finds. Maiia Krylova, founder of the popular Instagram account @carriebradshaws_outfits — which meticulously tracks down items from Carrie's closet — believes the character's signature style is 'the ultimate expression of fearless individuality and emotional storytelling through fashion.' 'She didn't dress to impress others or to follow rules; she dressed to express exactly who she was at that moment,' Krylova told Yahoo Entertainment. Nevertheless, Carrie's fashion maximalism seems to be hitting differently these days. Her outfits on And Just Like That…, the sequel series to SATC, have repeatedly gone viral, and not always in a good way, as fans scrutinize Carrie's giant hats and pigeon purses and declare them over-the-top. But why all the sudden pearl-clutching over the woman who once wore a bird on her head to her own wedding? Isn't all of this in character? One could attribute a healthy portion of the critiques to ageism. 'People really did not want the girls to change' in AJLT, Rogers says. 'They want to keep them in this time capsule, where Carrie's at the gay club with the bandana around her arm and a see-through tank on.' Now in her 50s, some might think it's time for Carrie to give up the wacky accessories and give Chico's a try. But viewers' sudden heel-turn might stem from deeper factors as well. By all accounts, Carrie's specific approach to dressing herself should be a huge hit right now. "Loud luxury" is 'in' and has been for years. Think: fluffy furs, bold animal prints, conspicuous logos and clothing in rich shades of red and emerald green. Productions like The White Lotus and Another Simple Favor have flaunted an ostentatious style, and as the Cut notes, artists like Chappell Roan and Doechii have also embraced (and subverted) the "boom boom" aesthetic of the '80s with playful power suits. That's not the only Carrie-coded trend that's surging right now, either. There's also fashion maximalism, which, like loud luxury, often thrives during times of economic uncertainty. On runways and on TikTok, people are going all in on high-concept outfits, playful accessories and lots and lots of layers. Carrie and her hybrid wardrobe are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to SATC's fashion influence. Consider also younger generations' dedication to curating hyper-specific 'aesthetics' as a way to wordlessly introduce themselves to the world. What was Carrie's BFF Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia Nixon) if not the original 'office siren' in a power suit? Meanwhile, Charlotte York (Kristin Davis) had the 'old money aesthetic' on lock in pearls and twin sets, and the brash, sexy Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall) was basically the "boom boom" queen, always wearing her wealth and power on her immaculately tailored sleeve. When it came to personal style, Rogers says each of the four main characters' 'lanes' was clearly defined and easy to articulate. SATC costume designer Patricia Field often described the show as 'the first moving fashion magazine,' Rogers says, with Carrie as its cover girl. With that in mind, it's even easier to understand why the core four each have such distinct wardrobes. 'We dressed them, in the beginning and now, a little more heightened than normal-life reality,' Rogers says, 'and I think that has a lot to do with curating a look by an aesthetic.' Decades after the original show's release, Krylova can draw a direct line from its approach to style to the shopping habits of younger generations today. The show 'showed us that style wasn't just about looking good; it was about telling the world who you are without saying a word,' she explains. Each generation has taken slightly different lessons from that ethos. 'Generation Z, for example, fully embraces the show's fearless experimentation,' Krylova says. 'They're not afraid to color clash, mix high fashion with second-hand finds and wear something purely for the drama, even if it breaks all the so-called 'fashion rules.'' Meanwhile, millennials 'approach the show's influence from a more lifestyle-focused perspective. They deeply connect with the emotional undertones behind each character's wardrobe choices. For them, fashion isn't just about being seen; it's about being understood.' Elizabeth Castaldo Lundén, a research fellow at the USC School of Cinematic Arts who has published books and articles about fashion, media and communication, explains to Yahoo that film and TV have shaped consumers' understanding of fashion for more than a century. For example, the experimental films that preceded the silent era often showcased Parisian fashions, exposing American women who could never attend a runway show to the trends of the time. The fashion tie-ins to films of the 1920s and '30s foreshadowed the product placement deals to come, and American television, in particular, stemmed directly from the advertising industry — which made it the perfect vehicle to inform consumer choices. The 1980s were a formative time, Castaldo Lundén says, as costume departments partnered with department stores to not only sell certain dresses seen on shows like Dynasty to the middle class, but also to sell patterns for those ensembles to audiences who could not afford the ready-made garments. Years later, Sex and the City perfected the art form with prolific product placement both in the original series and subsequent films — making itself essentially synonymous with brands like Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik. 'They are not only selling the fashions in the show,' Castaldo Lundén says. 'They are selling the idea that womanhood comes through the out-of-control consumption of fashion.' Devout fans might see SATC's influence a little differently. 'Television has always had a profound impact on how viewers see fashion because it doesn't just show clothes, it tells stories through them,' Krylova says. 'Unlike fashion shows or magazine editorials, which often feel unattainable, television brings fashion into real-life narratives. Viewers don't just admire what their favorite characters wear; they emotionally connect with them.' People's favorite shows don't just influence the clothes people want to wear, according to Krylova; they also shape why they want to wear them. 'And that's where the real power lies — in showing viewers that fashion isn't just about trends; it's about telling your own story through the choices you make every day,' she says. And Just Like That… costume designer Danny Santiago, who also worked on the two SATC movies, noticed that a lot of younger audiences who've newly discovered the show find inspiration in its '90s and Y2K fashions. 'They want to have that sort of aesthetic to them,' he says, 'so they do seek that type of look out — the certain type of handbags and the way that the skirts are falling, and the crop tops and all that sort of stuff, layering … I see it on Instagram all the time,' he tells Yahoo Entertainment. In that sense, we could call Carrie Bradshaw our first fashion influencer. So why are self-appointed style critics on social media hating on her gonzo outfits? The simple answer is that many people hold an antiquated, narrow-minded view of how 'women of a certain age' should dress and behave. Rogers and Santiago certainly heard more than their fair share of these opinions in the lead-up to the series premiere of And Just Like That … in 2021. 'We got so many questions about, 'What are you gonna do with them? They're at a certain age,'' Rogers recalls. 'I am at that certain age … and I was like, 'I don't know why we would dress them like they'd had lobotomies.'' Santiago agrees that the idea that older women should abandon their personal styles is 'old-fashioned.' Maybe women felt this way 30 years ago, he posits — 'like they needed to become something else, in a way of maturing as who they are in their lives. But I feel that [idea] doesn't exist anymore.' But to some fans, Carrie's wardrobe has slowly crept away from its original genius. While Krylova believes that the writer's personal style evolved beautifully in the original series, subsequent appearances of the character in film and on AJLT are a different story. In those productions, she says, 'Carrie's style gradually wore itself out. It became less and less realistic and more and more theatrical, eventually turning into something completely unsupportable.' The way Krylova sees it, she and other fans began shying away because Carrie's 'fits 'had become too theatrical and out of touch with reality.' Nevertheless, she admires the way that Carrie 'continues to challenge the outdated notion that women should remain invisible, modest or reserved as they grow older.' Love them or hate them, Krylova says Carrie's new outfits have 'sparked conversations about women's freedom and the right to dress however they want at any age. And in that sense, Carrie's fashion still does exactly what it was always meant to do — provoke, break boundaries and, most importantly, remind us that self-expression has no age limit.' There might also be a third reason that Carrie's wardrobe is not playing quite as well with its target audience. In the original series, Carrie's unique fashions amplified her position as an outsider — which made her more relatable to an audience that, for the most part, would also have felt out of place among New York's high society. Now, she's as wealthy as anyone else, with the palatial Gramercy Park townhouse to prove it. Within that context, her expensive, enviable wardrobe could feel like an expression of a social standing that viewers will never achieve. In the original series, Carrie's high-low wardrobe mirrored the way she stood with one foot in each of two worlds. On one hand, her spending was the stuff of fantasy. 'It wouldn't be possible to acquire that closet — even in terrible debt — without going bankrupt,' Castaldo Lundén says. At the same time, she says Carrie's wardrobe echoes a concept that first emerged in the 1800s: Those from outside the aristocracy often adopt wardrobes that mimic that class in the hopes of joining it. Men would do so in order to do more business with old money, while women did it in order to marry rich. Just look at who Carrie married. By achieving her ultimate fantasy with Mr. Big (Chris Noth), Carrie completed her Cinderella story — the one that made viewers fall in love with her in the first place. That might have fundamentally shifted the way audiences relate to her, clothes and all. The good news? Carrie has never dressed for anyone but herself. Rogers and Santiago argue she wouldn't give anyone's wardrobe criticisms a second thought. 'If real-life Carrie was walking through the park and people were commenting on her hat like they comment on Instagram, I think she'd ignore it,' Rogers says. 'She'd ignore it,' Santiago agrees. 'Totally.'
Buzz Feed
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Buzz Feed
Cynthia Nixon Reacts To Sex And The City Hungover Miranda Meme
And just like Just Like back. The follow-up series to Sex and the City premiered its third season last week, and it's just so good to see Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), Charlotte (Kristin Davis), Seema (Sarita Choudhury), and Lisa (Nicole Ari Parker) back on our screens. To celebrate the return of our television BFFs, we asked them to partake in the old-school best friend ritual of making friendship bracelets! While creating bracelets featuring their favorite quotes from And Just Like That... or Sex and the City, the gals got to joyfully gabbing. They chatted about everything, including their most cherished moments being together on set... ...what Cynthia really thinks of "Hungover Miranda" from SATC becoming a meme... ...and who'd they pick among Berger (Ron Livingston), Petrovsky (Mikhail Baryshnikov), or Vaughn (Justin Theroux) as their favorite of Carrie's boyfriends. Plus, Nicole reveals the surprising place she recently spent time with her Brown Sugar castmates, Sarita shares the hardest part about playing Seema, and Kristin reveals the biggest "surprise" she's experienced hosting her hit new SATC rewatch podcast, Are You a Charlotte? So watch them get crafty below: And check out Season 3 of And Just Like That... streaming now on Max!
Daily Mirror
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
And Just Like That brings back Carrie's iconic necklace - you can shop your own
The Carrie necklace was almost as iconic as a pair of Manolo Blahnik heels in Sex and the City, and now And Just Like That is back on our screens, we're keen to get one of our own In the Sex and the City universe, fashion was just as important as relationships, especially for main character Carrie Bradshaw. From a wildly impractical pair of Manolo Blahnik or Jimmy Choo heels, to her showstopping Vivienne Westwood wedding dress in the films, SATC gave us some major fashion moments. But there was one piece that became just as iconic, worn on repeat by Sarah Jessica Parker throughout the series and into the new And Just Like That spinoffs – her Carrie necklace. The nameplate necklace was so important, in fact, it helped her find herself (and Big) at the end of the SATC TV series. Never ones to let a pivotal fashion moment die out, And Just Like That brought back the necklace for a cameo in the second season, and we're hoping it'll make another reappearance in the new third series which just landed on our screens. If you're anything like us and have coveted most of Carrie's wardrobe since the show first aired, you'll no doubt want a nameplate necklace of your own, so we found some of the best ones to shop. Abbott Lyon's Carrie Name Necklace – £85 The very aptly named Carrie necklace from Abbott Lyon is a great choice, with a classic italic script-style writing that mirrors Carrie's exact one. It also comes in 18k gold, silver and rose gold plated options with a choice of three different chain lengths to pick from. You can personalise it with up to 12 characters, and you have the option of adding extras like a birthstone pendant or an extra half chain for a layered look. PRYA's Siena Personalised Name Necklace – was £56, now £42 Coming in a choice of 18k gold plated, 14k rose gold plated and silver plated, this also has a choice of three chain lengths and you can also choose your chain style from chunkier Cuban links to dainty classic chains. You can input the name of your choice, which is case sensitive, and gives you a sneak peek at what each letter looks like. If you want to switch up the font style, this name necklace from Potiega on Not on the High Street gives you plenty of creative freedom. You can choose from six different fonts including scripts and old English, and there's sterling silver, 18k gold and rose gold plated finishes to choose from. There's also different chain lengths, and you can use up to 10 characters for your personalisation. Posh Totty Personalised Name Necklace – £85 For a slightly softer and chunkier look, Posh Totty's personalised name necklace is a great choice. The font has a thicker, more rounded look to the other versions, and can be fully personalised with up to 10 characters. As with the others you can pick from sterling silver, or 18kt gold or rose gold plated, although the latter two will add £10 to the price.
The Age
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Age
All US television is Trumpy now, even when it's not
In the original SATC era we wanted to join the wealthy and aspirational foursome for a drink, but now the zeitgeist has turned. The television shows that feel most relevant to the moment, and which are the most engaging, are all about the suffering and the immorality of the super-rich. It feels more comfortable, now, to reassure ourselves that while billionaires and tech-bro oligarchs appear to be running the world, they're living lives of miserable inauthenticity. It started with Succession, a brilliant and darkly funny exposition of the ways in which inherited wealth can corrupt family relationships. The creator of Succession, Jesse Armstrong, has just released a movie, Mountainhead, about a foursome of tech billionaires who hole up in a mountain mansion in Utah as the world seems to be ending. More recently we have Your Friends & Neighbours, starring Mad Men's Jon Hamm, a square-jawed hero of all-American good looks but with just enough despair in his face to hint at inner spiritual desolation. Hamm plays Coop, a one-percenter hedge fund manager enraged by his divorce (his wife left him for his good friend), who loses his job after a low-level sexual indiscretion at work. In order to maintain his lifestyle (which includes $4500 skin treatments for his daughter and $30,000 tables at charity galas), he resorts to stealing from his friends and neighbours. These people, who live in a fictional, highly manicured wealth conclave outside New York City, are so obscenely rich that they have $200,000 watches and rolls of cash lying around in drawers. Hamm does what he has to do – he becomes a cat burglar with a cynical philosophy. Loading Coop is just a man trying to get by, and if that doesn't involve selling his Maserati, or getting a new (albeit less well paid) job, then it is a testament to the show's good writing that we are still with him, even when we question his attachment to a lifestyle he purports to disdain. Another new American show, Sirens, stars Julianne Moore as the beautiful philanthropist wife of a billionaire hedge-fund manager, who is summering in her uber-mansion (it has a turret) on an unnamed east-coast big-money island similar to Nantucket or Martha's Vineyard. She has a creepy, co-dependent relationship with her young personal assistant, who comes from poverty and dysfunction but who is loved in a way her wealthy boss never will be. Of course, these shows have a buck each way – they seek to satirise the super-rich and expose the underlying emptiness of their lives, while allowing us the vicarious experience of living in their luxury for an hour or so. The Hollywood Reporter calls it 'affluence porn'. We get access to the calfskin-lined interior of the private jet. We get to enjoy the week-long wedding festivities in Tuscany and gawp at the marvellous outfits, all while judging the protagonists for their materialism. In AJLT the materialism is not there to be judged; it is an integral part of the fun. Perhaps AJLT feels off because the writing is bad, and the plot lines so tired that dogs must be enlisted to prop up the action. Or maybe it is because in the second Trump administration the US political environment has become so oppressive and so inescapable that no story feels true unless it references it, however obliquely.
