Do We Need Sex?

I’m on the fence whether I want to write about culture lately. Would it be maintainable for me to never speak of culture again, or to speak about it forever? Would I want to read it in ten years? How to remain consistent without getting bored? Is it a history piece? Or an everlasting one?

And I can’t help but notice:

DO WE NEED SEX question mark.

To be clear, I’m referring to Sex and the City, so you are welcome to read the last line in Carrie’s voice. SATC is a widely exploited topic across social media. Team Carrie, Team Natasha, Big being adored by millennials and hated by Gen Zs. SATC became canon. SATC was genius. And SATC will forever be missed. It had its place and time and can’t be replicated. You might know where I’m going with this—And Just Like That. A show that should have never been made, yet I watched every episode. And I still do. I’m just stunned and surprised by how much more ridiculous and bad it can be. It’s a carnage. The storyline—simply stupid. The characters—a parody and a shadow of the original. The fashion—just ugly. Overall: cringe, badly written, and unnecessary.

SATC was brilliant. Brave and ground-breaking. Insanely funny and relatable 20 years later. It’s a classic that inspired many other shows and movies post-show. Comforted and educated. Created characters that became archetypes. SATC is still a topic of conversation, and once you finish season six for the 10th or 20th time, you are utterly left with emptiness and emotional hangover. You may be tempted to fill in the void—however, it won’t be. Let yourself feel the hunger and unsatiation. Because if you feel it, you know you’ve just experienced something amazing. Go back to it, rediscover. Dig into every conversation, every outfit. Go back to it ten years later to see it with new eyes. But don’t watch And Just Like That because it’s not the same show. It’s trying to be, but it’s not landing. For many technical reasons which I’m not going to elaborate on, and that’s why I’m on the fence about writing about culture. I want to talk about a sign of the times—

Do we need sex?

Because that’s the main reason why the spin-off show is a failure. SATC was fresh, original, and breaking taboos of the ’90s. It was the time of sexual revolution and liberation. Opinions were not censored, cocaine was everywhere, and smoking was allowed. SATC was something that people were thinking about but were not getting on the screen—until they did.

Working on something remarkable is like a godly call—you don’t know why you’re doing it, but you are, simply because it’s a calling. Emerging great minds gather, work against all odds not knowing that they are creating history. This is what SATC was—Darren Star, Patricia Field, the quartet of the leading ladies: Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristin Davis, and Cynthia Nixon. Limited budget, no hairstylist or a makeup artist. It could have been a failure but instead became a revolution. Bear in mind that back in the ’90s, talking about blowjobs at lunch wasn’t a thing. The show was controversial and risky but the public loved it.

Talking about sex was freedom. Having sex was freedom.

The orgasms, faking orgasms, the taste of sperm, threesomes, orgies, gays, lesbians, transsexuals, vibrators, porn, public sex, anal sex, oral sex, spanking and BDSM, golden showers, penis size, erotic massage. Jesus, this line is starting to look like a porn website search. But also: love, cheating, marriage, power dynamics, friendships, singlehood, work ambition, sex and aging, cancer.

What brought it all together in a tasteful manner was fantastic writing. It was like thoughts that everyone thought and no one shared out loud. Much-needed conversation when the public wasn’t educated about sex. SATC created a woman—free, financially independent, childless, unmarried, drinking, smoking and choosing Manolos over men. Also chasing men and chasing love, which ambiguity remained in generations later. Because love hasn’t changed since Jane Austen times.

2010s and 2020s are far different times than 1990. We are flooded with sex. Sex is in music videos, movies, half-naked women are all over Instagram and TikTok advertising hotels and baby cribs. Sexual revolution evolved into rot. Started with Jersey Shore, continued to Love Island. OnlyFans. Selling your soul, selling your body for the sake of popularity dictated by the algorithm. Hypersexual capitalism. Every aspect of life is monetized: identity, trauma, love, sex, grief.

Ancient Rome had lavish orgies, extreme inequality, obsession with gladiators and blood sports. Pre-revolutionary France had Marie Antoinette and bread riots. Weimar Republic had sexual revolution, cultural explosion, but also rise of fascism. Sounds familiar?

In times when people are struggling to pay their bills, we are getting a show where privileged, frivolous women got dumber with age and learned absolutely nothing in the ’90s. They live in lavish apartments, wear extremely expensive clothes, and have no worries other than getting old. Young people are not interested, older demographic sees the stupidity and lack of relatability. Offensive language, penises and baguettes, naked butts, phone sex—are just not interesting anymore. Read the room. Yet the showrunners are pretending to understand the times they don’t understand by being ingenuinely inclusive. The conversations are stiff, silly, and not funny. Although I admit, the show has glimpses of good moments—only to ruin it with Carrie on the screen being indigestibly annoying.

Not only is And Just Like That badly written. It’s a show that is inadequate and delusional. Because—

Do we need more sex?

As I’ve mentioned before, I am relating to the entertainment sphere. Lately the best shows of current times have ZERO sex scenes. Succession—mocking the richest. The Bear—generational trauma. Well, Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon have realistic, explicit sex scenes but where there are dungeons and dragons, there must be sex. The White Lotus—also mocking the richest. The Penguin—mafia and mocking the rich? Do you see the pattern?

Fantastic character development, drama, iconic-to-be dialogue; these shows have become the canon.

However, do we need a show that is addressing emotional struggles of the next generation? Always.

That’s why Euphoria hit like a lightning bolt. Euphoria did what SATC did in the ’90s. It was cutting-edge, went deeper into sex and showed the dark parts of it. Generation raised in porn and rape culture, toxic masculinity, sex working, drugs—all covered with tears and glitter.

Okay, that’s all I wanted to say about And Just Like That. It’s a symbol of current ignorance that makes me want to ask myself—what am I thinking of lately?

It was the end of June, and when I went outside I briefly felt the smell of pines and needles as the warm wind brushed me. I instantly thought of summers near the Baltic Sea and how before you see the waterline, you can only smell it and hear it, while crossing needly woods.

I completely forgot about summer 2003—was it? Or 2004? I tried to navigate more memories of this time but I struggled, even though I spent a month or two there. How days started with preparation for the beach and how I hated the long stroll through town and the woods. I was in a smaller body, but my consciousness remained the same.

With the eyes of nine-year-old me, I can see the endless shore, colorful markets along the sidewalk leading to the beach, fried fish shacks, and stands with ice cream—those that are in a swirl. Every summer was a celebration, counted by days and how much you had left until school. End of June was just out of school, full of possibilities, feeling like the king of the world. July—never-ending. August—a sad reminder that summer will end soon and I have to go back to school again.

Every day from 62 days of freedom was holy. It needed to be squeezed like a lemon, because how can you go back to school in September and say you just wasted time? Playing Barbies, watching movies, going to the beach, swimming in the pool, eating ice cream—tons of ice cream. Later in the year, they don’t taste the same. Having the coolest pool float. Jumping across the waves. Annoying sand inside the shoes and inside your bathing suit.

Now I sometimes forget what day of the week we have. Months are passing by and nobody reminds you that it’s the first day of summer.

It really was heaven.