Choo or I shoot

To be completely honest, I'm not really looking forward to the third Sex and the City movie. I wonder if there's anyone out there who has seen all the seasons more often than I have, but those movies... I still liked the first one because of the outfits, that amazing apartment on Central Park, and the scene where Steve and Miranda fall into each other's arms on the Brooklyn Bridge made a tear roll down my cheek. But beyond that, there was certainly no Oscar-worthy display. I know that myself. I didn't even finish watching the second movie. No matter how much I wanted to, no matter how hard I tried, after Carrie kissed Aiden, I fell asleep. Time and time again.

Yet I still miss Carrie slash Sarah Jessica Parker. She belongs a bit in my life. Her outfits, her voice, her not-perfect face that makes her even more lovable, everything, EVERYTHING, I miss.

Great was the joy when I read that Sarah Jessica is making her return on TV. A series for successful forty-somethings who still struggle with the questions of life? With lots of cocktails, cheating friends, and a whole lot of nice outfits? Something like that?

None of that. A crime series. Crime. Based on a book titled Busted, a tale of corruption and betrayal in the city of brotherly love. Rarely has the word disappointed been more appropriate.

Yet there is hope. The director is David Frankel. That name may not ring a bell for you, but he is the man who also directed The Devil Wears Prada. So there's good hope.

And Sarah is Sarah is Sarah, so I expect amidst all the criminals, dark tunnels, cells, a whole lot of Alexander Wang, a bit of Dior, Oscar de la Renta, Sonia Rykiel.

I can see it all in my mind. Choo or I shoot.