My comfort show, The Sex and the City showcases the lives of four iconic women in an unbridled fashion. It is relatable and vicariously engaging at the same time for millions of women around the globe whether or not they have had sex in a city. Like me, many people find themselves rewatching the six seasons time and again in admiration of the very happening and relatable lives of Carrie Bradshaw, Miranda Hobbes, Samantha Jones and Charlotte York. Sticking together like a tape of velcro, our women take us through the ups and downs of their lives. If there is a character that I share most of my interests and taste with regard to lifestyle, then it has to be Charlotte. A successful art dealer; charming with shiny hair; entering the room wearing the choicest clothes tailored just for her; a woman who is not just an aspirant of a stable and loving home life but is also someone who realises those dreams in her everyday life; dreamy and coquettish; simply elegant, she is not just someone who I admire and relate to but also someone who I have come to realise to avoid the company of. I realised this very recently, when I met someone like her a few months ago.