Last week, I was channel-surfing as folded laundry and I landed on E! Entertainment Television. (I'm allowed to watch whatever I want while folding my knickers. Don't judge me.) It was a pseudo-documentary about the making of Sex and the City. The E! show claimed Sex and the City was the first show to unflinchingly reveal how women really talked about men. Then I ran across this article in which the show's creator indicates that the show was less about showing women as they actually are and more about "turning the stereotype on its head," objectifying men instead of women and playing against type.I'm guessing the truth is somewhere in the middle, that women didn't talk like that nearly as much before Sex and the City gave them permission to be blunt and selfish and sex-obsessed, but that doesn't mean they weren't already thinking that way. And once we got permission... woo, baby, just watch us run with it. Now the Sex and the City version of femininity has wedged itself firmly into our culture. And into the culture of contemporary romance novels.
Hex and the City, Sex and the Immortal Bad Boy, and the similarities don't end with plays on the title. The modern day romance heroine may not even be looking for love unending (though in my favorite romances that's what she ends up with). Nope, in the current generation of romance novels, the heroine is just as likely to start out looking for Mr. Right Now as Mr. Right. Cocktails and confidence, the new romance heroine is a different breed than her virginal predecessors. Did Sex and the City do that?
























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