SassyBlonde

Sometimes the best thing you can possibly do for a major case of the blahs is spend a night out with the girls.

I put on my sassiest dress and went out with the girls tonight to the opening night of the Sex and the City movie. Heidelah made the call that we should all get up in our sassiest dresses and meet up to see the flick, and the ladies definitely delivered. There were cosmos, there were sassy shoes, and there were beautiful bags, and we were far from the only ones decked out in our finest.

Let me tell you, people, there's nothing quite as festive as a theater full of SATC fans in full regalia. Everywhere we looked, designer shoes, designer bags, and sassy girls dressed up to celebrate one of the best things to happen in television (and now movies) in a long damn time. Big girls, small girls, young girls, old girls, we were all sassy girls tonight. There were fashion triumphs and fashion tragedies, and best of all, everyone there was strutting like they meant it in their best attitude.

I'm a fan of the series, not in the rabid, buy-anything-that-says-Manolo kind of passionate fandom expressed by a lot of people I know, but in a quiet, satisfied, proud sort of way and I have to say tonight was a great expression of one of the many things this series did for women everywhere: promoting the idea that you don't need a reason, or an explanation, or a man to get dolled up and be sassy and look great. Wear the sassy shoes in your closet-- you only live once. Don't be afraid to wear that fur flower or crazy hat-- it's festive. And most importantly of all, give a crap what you look like when you leave the house.

I'm not saying that everything they put on those women on screen was a good fashion choice (many were far from it), but there's a lot to be said for the fact that women from New York to New Plymouth once again seized upon the idea that being fashionable is always appropriate because of Carrie Bradshaw's obsession with Manolos and Prada and Dior, and really got the idea that it didn't matter where it came from: as long as you looked fabulous in it, that's what mattered.

And while I was a bit afraid the movie might just be its own overblown clotheshorse, it was actually, surprisingly, really, really good. Not that I agree with some of the outcomes, but still, it was good, and true to the series, and had some really great meaty moments. (No, I don;t kiss and tell-- you'll have to go see it for yourself.) And oh GOD, the clothes. There are a couple of pairs of shoes I'd kill for, and I really need to figure out a way to make Samantha's red dress happen. *sigh*

And now I go to rest my barking dogs, and my brain, for a couple of days. If you don't hear from me assume I'm laying in the hammock dreaming of Dior.