Let me just get this out of the way: Yes. It's true. This blog has officially been inspired by Buffy Fashion Roulette over at The Bitter Buffalo. I find ragging on late 90's television fashion hilarious, and as The Bitter Buffalo has made abundantly clear, there are just not enough sites doing so. I am addicted to her site. When I watch Buffy now, all I can think of is how The Bitter Buffalo will eventually smack down a particularly heinous outfit. I think everyone who has seen any Buffy episodes should head to her site immediately and read all its contents. You'll love yourself for it.
Sex and the City, and its leading lady Sarah Jessica Parker (known as SJP from here on out), is known for it's "great" fashion. Or maybe not "great," but "revolutionary" fashion. Or "fashion forward" fashion. Whatever. We all know deep down in our hearts that the majority of the attire is completely fucking hideous and deserves to be mocked. So, let's get down to it, shall we?
It's 1998. Carrie starts by telling us a fairy tale about a British woman, new to NYC, who meets the perfect man. They have two weeks of fabulous dates (a mini-golf course), conversation, and sex. One day, he takes her to see a town house, which has all the undertones of getting married and having many babies in said town house.
The realtor also has all the undertones of a salmon jumping upstream.
Of course, the guy stops returning her calls. Here's a thought: Maybe he doesn't like girls who look like Julia Stiles in "The Omen" wearing a powder blue leisure suit.
We finally land on our narrator, Carrie, sitting in front of a GIANT computer screen. Holy hell. I didn't realize that 1998 was really 1989.
Furthermore, Carrie's casual updo is vaguely reminiscent of Bette Midler in "Hocus Pocus."
Remember how Carrie used to address the viewer directly? I am sure as hell glad they stopped doing that. Here she is, looking remarkably dull in a trench coat, undoubtedly purchased at some sort of outlet with a name ending in "Coat Factory."
Hey, there's Miranda! Don't you wave those tongs at me, sassy.
Oh, hot damn! Who is that hot librarian with the great gams? Goodness me--it's Charlotte! Mrowr!
...oh...oh, that shirt. Charlotte's been plumbing the depths of the bargain rack at TJ Maxx again.
Remember Skipper?? I sure didn't. Here, Skipper is pictured in the horrible circular wire-rimmed glasses we all wore in the 90s, terrible hair, a comfy looking sweater, another giant computer, and the decorative glass squares that were once so popular in sexy urban lofts and doctor's offices.
The girls go out to some sort of drag-themed restaurant for Miranda's birthday. Frankly, these drag queens are dressed better here than the Fab Four will be for most of the series. I give them major props for this.
Samantha derives great pleasure from earrings that were clearly stolen from an 80 year old woman.
Carrie would actually look pretty cute, were it not for the inexplicable 80's-prom-dress-style straps. Points for looking perky, though.
The next day, Carrie goes out for lunch with Stanford. Oh, Stannie. You are so delightful in your multiple shades of green. Way to take your suit to the next level!
Carrie sees an old ex/fuck buddy, who appears to be part uber-douche, part dragon.
Carrie heads over to see Douchey McDragon, and looks very chic (though safe) from the waist up. What a nice lunchtime ensemble.
Carrie decides to "have sex like a man" with her ex/FB. This totally agrees with her, as she looks an awful lot like a greek goddess here, all glowing and wrapped up in a sheet.
She leaves the dragon in the dust, and is feeling kicky! Actually, I love this dress and its asymmetrical hem. Tres chic. PLUS, this is, by far, the least offensive thing we will see Carrie wear from this point forward.
Carrie literally runs into Mr. Big. Oh, you. :D
Behind the scenes, Carrie has set up Skipper and Miranda, even though she knows Miranda will hate Skipper. What an asshole. If I were Miranda, though, I would not think much of Skipper, either. Two different kinds of checked tops, Skipper? Really?
Ahhh, there. What did I tell you? Here's the Carrie we all know and cringe about! Seriously. WTF, Carrie? Your Peg Bundy tank top doesn't fit, and I'm positive you borrowed that frosted lipstick from a hooker on your way over. Eew. Ew, ew, ew.
Here's Samantha, gearing up for what will be a series full of her naked body. This was just a sneak preview.
In the meantime, Charlotte's been on a date with some hotshot rich guy. They went to some fancy place, like an art show opening or the opera. Honestly, when I saw a couple descending the stairs here, I didn't immediately recognize that it was Charlotte--I just saw a shiny dress and thought, "OH SHIT!!! IS THAT LAMÉ??"
Upon closer inspection, this is a type of dress material very specific to the late 90s. It's like...velvet with a sheer, shiny overlay. With sparkly bundles attached all over it. This type of specialness was usually reserved for homecoming or prom, but I can see that it must've originated with the NYC elite. Bravo, fashion. Bra-vo.
That would've been my last picture for the entry, but at the last second, I caught this horrifying monstrosity in the background. It is like Michael Jackson's white, sequined glove was made into an entire outfit. Bwaaah!