The new Sex and the City movie is upon us at the end of this month and from what I’ve seen from the trailer, I’m begging they don’t make a third.

Back in 1999, I snuggled up every Tuesday night in front of my 14 inch screen desperate for my next dose of Carrie and the girls. This promised to be a long-awaited comedy drama where women were running the show and men merely transient characters to colour their stories. This was supposed to be a break away from the stereotypical dross we seem to lap up from across the pond.

I didn’t really want to admit that SJP and the gang have been flogging a dead horse for a while. The first three seasons were glorious. I emotionally attached myself to the characters, identifying with their dilemmas. The humour was raunchy, witty and not afraid to be self-deprecating; Carrie’s temptation to pay her credit card bill by becoming a trophy girlfriend, Miranda trying out lesbianism to get ahead and Charlotte’s near venture into a threesome and Samantha…well. The writers portrayed the women as less than perfect but empowered enough to not give a hoot.

It didn’t take long for Sex and the City to become the stereotype. Hoards of twenty and thirty-something females were piling into bars ordering Cosmos instead of Pinot Grigio and wearing fabric flowers (yeah, I did that too). The show undoubtedly paved the way for women-centric viewing on prime-time television. Television schedulers were no longer afraid to air all female casts with female biased storylines. Desperate Housewives being one of the most successful but Showtime drama, The L Word is definitely one of the finest. Ilene Chaiken‘s drama about a group of lesbians in Los Angeles addressed gay and women’s issues not dissimilar to those tackled by Sex and the City, breast cancer, glass ceilings, race but more robustly written even managing some comedy. ‘Same Sex. Different City.‘ the bill poster declared. Sadly a movie version of this show would probably attract more male viewers.

The SATC crew finally called it a day after the sixth season only to give us a movie a few years later. It seemed the show still had enormous marketing value with brands lining up to be a part of the franchise. The Blu-ray special edition wasn‘t enough to seduce me. Carrie and the girls were taking themselves far too seriously. Yet again we had to watch the characters predictably build themselves up for disappointment and the diva drama that followed. A-list weddings, cold feet grooms, jilted brides, cheating husbands, love and loneliness in New York City, haven’t we already see this? The outfit changes were more prolific than ever, the characters sporting designer wardrobes that well outstripped their supposed incomes. They wore far too much make-up, probably to paste over the cracks in their off-screen wrangles. Brian Griffin was right, it was “three hookers and their mom”.

I notice in the SATC 2 trailer Carrie declaring, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” on arriving in Ab Dhabi. A rehashing of a line she used to describe a Connecticut baby-shower in season one, episode ten. And with that I know it's time to go our seperate ways.