Carrie's hip has fully healed, allowing her to reclaim her rightful place in her stiletto heels, as she embarks on a new journey through life. Yet, even when the path ahead is clear and just, the transition remains arduous. Navigating life post-loss often resembles a dance of "two steps forward, one step back," precisely where we find Carrie these days. She acknowledges the necessity of acquiring a fresh apartment but finds herself rejecting 46 options for trivial reasons before settling on one she barely favors, merely to conclude the search. Similarly, she understands the importance of sorting through her storage unit and transferring belongings to her new abode, yet she's taken aback when confronted with Big's record albums upon opening a box. Major life transformations are fraught with complexities and deep emotions. While embracing a new chapter signifies a healthier outlook than dwelling in the past, it doesn't imply that Carrie should erase her history entirely. An unexpected visit to a plastic surgeon serves as the catalyst for this realization.
Carrie doesn't willingly seek out the plastic surgeon; she winds up in Dr. Paul David's office as Anthony's escort, tasked with ensuring he doesn't take any drastic measures. Yet, curiosity eventually piques regarding the possibilities for a "refresh." Since Stanford's departure for Tokyo, Carrie and Anthony have forged an inseparable bond, with him assisting her with her new apartment while she accompanies him to his facelift consultation, aiming to restore his "hot, slightly older guy" status. This pairing is nothing short of enchanting! The otherwise harrowing consultation—staring at a 3-D image of one's face and being criticized—transforms into an amusement, largely thanks to Jonathan Groff's impeccable portrayal of Dr. David. He walks the tightrope between "enhancing your self-confidence" and "pointing out imperfections," captivating everyone around him. I'd happily submit to any procedure he suggested, even though I didn't stroll into his office seeking a makeover. My forehead lines are perfectly fine, but this man is undeniably skilled.
Anthony is reassured of his attractiveness, albeit a touch of Botox could enhance it, while Carrie learns that "Mother Nature and Instagram are harsher on women." The doctor presents her with an exhaustive list of facial enhancements, promising to erase the last 15 years of her life. This notion resonates deeply. It's a seductive prospect for numerous reasons. Over the past months, Carrie has been evading or burying those 15 years—metaphorically stored away. Grief renders them daunting to confront, but the thought of abandoning them altogether is equally challenging, as Carrie treasures those years. Hence, she opts against a facelift but decides to empty the storage unit, Big's record albums included. She even dons one of his tuxedo jackets, venturing confidently into the world. Carrie confronts life's changes head-on, partly out of necessity and partly from knowing her own strength. She'll be alright.
Charlotte, too, learns to embrace changes beyond her control. Unsurprisingly, navigating the Goldenblatt apartment doesn't sail smoothly. With Rock now out to their parents—a name Charlotte struggles to utter even once in this episode—they aspire to alter their bedroom, reflecting their true selves. This entails chopping their hair short, donating Charlotte's doll collection, and painting over the floral mural atop their bed. While these seem minor adjustments, they're overwhelming for Charlotte. The stress manifests in peculiar ways, notably when she shouts at Miranda to dye her hair amidst a bustling park on a splendid summer day. Ah, the chaos of change!
Imagine the scene: Carrie, Miranda, and Charlotte, three gal pals extraordinaire, are indulging in a delightful spread and sipping on nonalcoholic fizz outside Carrie’s swanky apartment. They engage in lively chatter about society’s incessant criticism towards women’s aging and the freedom everyone should have to alter their appearance without facing judgment. Suddenly, Miranda drops a bombshell, announcing that she has “swapped excessive drinking for an obsessive love for self-pleasure.” Picnics, it seems, can be quite revealing!
Miranda is clearly setting the stage to broach the subject of her affair with Che. To everyone’s surprise, when she mentions fantasies involving Che, Charlotte nods in complete understanding. Che is deemed “cool” and “charismatic,” and even Charlotte admits to having a steamy dream about them on a ferry. (Could this be a subtle nod to Grey’s Anatomy, or am I simply seeing the world through Grey’s Anatomy-colored glasses?) Charlotte grasps the fantasy part, but when Miranda confesses it goes beyond mere fantasies, Charlotte is taken aback.
Here’s the rub: Miranda is upset with Charlotte’s “over-the-top reaction” to her and Che’s kitchen escapades. Isn’t Charlotte entitled to some sort of emotional response upon discovering that one of her closest friends is cheating on her husband? This is monumental news! Now, is Charlotte’s accusation of Miranda not being “progressive enough” for this situation crossing the line? Absolutely, it might be. Miranda tries to explain that she has never felt this way before, but Charlotte isn’t having it. Thankfully, Carrie steps in with a level-headed perspective (can you believe our Carrie is being so rational?). She reminds Miranda that they have already lost Samantha, so walking away isn’t an option; they need to hash it out.
And hash it out they do. It becomes evident that Charlotte’s tantrum about Miranda’s supposed midlife crisis is only partially about Miranda and mostly about the changes happening in her own life. “Why can’t people just stay the same?” Charlotte asks, almost in tears. But Carrie, ever the voice of reason, points out that change is an inevitable part of life, and most of the time, people have no choice but to embrace it. The friends reconcile, and back at Charlotte’s place, she packs away the doll collection in her kids’ bedroom, allows Rock to cut their hair, and even covers up that beloved hand-painted mural. This transformation seems like a healthy step forward — are we really watching the same show?
