If you’re uninhibited and prone to monologues about your pelvic floor, you’re a Samantha. If you’re a narcissist who’s knee-deep in Klarna loans for your RealReal purchases, you’re a Carrie. And if you subscribe to the revisionist take that Miranda’s pragmatic, no-nonsense approach to life makes her an unsung hero of feminism – then your choice is obvious.
Any woman with a television has at some point in the past two decades played “which Sex and the City character are you?” I’ve met self-proclaimed Carries, Samanthas and Mirandas. But very rarely does one ever meet a willing Charlotte.
