“How big is his dick?”
Just like Carrie Bradshaw, I teetered in my proverbial heels (which, in my case, meant nearly choking on my Doritos) when Charlotte York Goldenblatt dropped that question in the first few minutes of Season 2 of And Just Like That…, Max’s Sex and the City sequel series.
Sure, no SATC fan should be startled by frank dirty talk, which is one of the series’ calling cards; this is the show that brought “tuchus lingus” to the masses, after all. But from the mouth of prim, perpetually blushing Charlotte?! The blunt confidence with which she blurted out the line sounded as if it had come from a different character—which, it turns out, was precisely the point.
In the scene, Charlotte (Kristin Davis) had just learned that Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) has been casually having “exit-out-of-grief sex, every Thursday, with a very nice man.” He’s her podcast producer Franklyn (Ivan Hernandez), a salt-and-pepper-haired man so dashing and charming that I may have to check in myself into a hospital to treat what appears to be an incurable bout of incessant, dramatic swooning. (And that question Charlotte asked about him? We weren’t not wondering the answer...)
Carrie had politely asked Charlotte not to do her usual thing of fast-forwarding the tryst in her mind to a happily-ever-after relationship. Instead, Charlotte channeled their former friend Samantha (Kim Cattrall, who’s apparently returning for a cameo at the end of the season), making the girl-talk all about sex. When using such language proved too much for Carrie to handle, Charlotte then offered something Miranda (Cynthia Nixon, off in Los Angeles) would say: “If you sleep with someone from work, you give away your power.”
The end result is Carrie deciding that she’d rather have the Charlotte she knows and loves back than listen to any more impersonations. What I couldn’t help but realize at that very moment was how I, too, felt the same way. Is Charlotte sneakily the best Sex and the City character?
And Just Like That… Season 2, as my colleagues have pointed out, is wonderful thus far. The show no longer is burdened by figuring out what it is, and fans have had enough time to reach a point of peace with the new elements: no Cattrall, a new crop of diverse friends, Miranda’s unexpected alcoholism storyline, and, especially, the Che Diaz (Sara Ramirez) of it all. That means we all—the girls, the fans, and Che—can meet each other at a much less stressful place.
There are marked improvements, too. For one, the sex is back in Sex and the City; if you were scandalized by Miranda and Che’s kitchen scene in Season 1, buckle up (quite literally) for a strap-on in Season 2. But all of this—the settled nature of the show and the few course corrections—means that what has always worked about the show’s characters, message, and tone now works really well. And, to circle back to it, that’s especially true of Charlotte’s storyline and Davis’ winning performance.
I think all of us have seen our answers to the question of “which Sex and the City character are you?” evolve over the years. There’s the initial fantasy of being someone as fabulous as Carrie, before you start second-guessing how cute her narcissism really is. Maybe you go through a Samantha phase. (No comment.) I remember the wave of realization among my friends in adulthood that “being a Miranda” is both realistic and aspirational: She has a solid head on her shoulders, a successful career, and, best of all, Steve (David Eigenberg). (Love you Steve, always and forever.)
But if one of your friends suggested that you might be the Charlotte of the group, it was insulting. In hindsight, this never made sense. The insinuation was that, like Charlotte, you were the prude, the buzzkill, or the least fun. Have you ever rewatched the show? Charlotte has so much sex. She has adventurous sex, with very hot men. She’s at every party and dinner with Carrie and the girls, slurping up just as many cosmos as they are. Her reputation was unearned. Now, myself and the show are finally seeking justice for her.
Yes, Charlotte may have expectations for the proper and traditional way to do things, but so what? She gets to do them from her mansion-sized Park Avenue apartment, while wearing gorgeous designer clothes. Her craven desire to fall in love and marry may have been obsessive, but it’s still relatable. There’s a direct line from her quote, “I’ve been dating since I was 15. I’m exhausted. Where is he?” to the countless screenshots that pass through the group chats with my friends of dating app profiles they’re scrolling through. (How we date may be different now, but the sentiment remains.)
Even when we were supposed to be judging her, like when she wouldn’t loan Carrie money for a down payment on her apartment or made the decision to leave her job, the show found a way to lend grace to Charlotte’s decisions and lifestyle. This especially came through in Davis’ compassionate performance. While she was coming from a place of privilege, there was intelligence and reason behind Charlotte’s choices.
That nuance really comes through in Season 2 of And Just Like That.
Charlotte is nothing if not well-meaning, which was the case when the character grappled with her 12-year-old child coming out as nonbinary. Season 2 begins from a refreshing place of acceptance. With that also comes humor, like with one early storyline, in which Charlotte works herself into an exasperated frenzy when her daughter, Lily, sells off her own designer dresses to consignment—before reaching an understanding that what’s important to her and what’s important to her daughter may not align, as Lily grows into her own person.
Beneath the Chanel and insistence on etiquette, Charlotte has always been the goofiest and most endearing Sex and the City character. What’s rewarding now is that she’s self-aware about those things that people used to mock about her, which makes her even more fun.
This is the character who threw the flowers at Big before waddling to the limo; who screamed, “I rue the day you were born,” while comically pregnant; who danced tipsily at a Staten Island firehouse; who admitted to liking the musical Cats; who gave Carrie her engagement ring for a downpayment; and who played out a beautiful, if sometimes difficult journey to motherhood and family life.
Am I now a Charlotte? Well, no. I’m not rich. But, and just like that, I think I finally understand her.
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Read more of our And Just Like That coverage HERE.
