Byline: Hannah Jones
I'M going to ask a question Carrie Bradshaw style: Why do men loathe Sex and the City? I would be hard pressed to come up with a definitive answer but if I was as ballsy as Carrie and her high-heeled crew I'd hazard a guess that it's because this is a show, its fluff and hedonistic garb aside, which turns the sex war on its head.
When it comes to asking women to go out on a Wednesday when the show is on, spouses are clear of out luck in the intimate divide.
Now while the males of the species flout and pout their disappointment, I wonder if they would wear such a wide scowl if they were blown out for any other programme.
But Sex and the City seems to scramble up programmed sex roles because here we see women openly talking about the size of male genitalia and what their lovers are like between the sheets in a light-hearted and rather slick way.
And let's be honest here, a show on mainstream television which has men comparing and contrasting the size of women's breasts and their acrobatic skills in the bedroom would be blown out of the water on the grounds of good taste before the ink had time to dry on premature letters of complaint.
It's a fear thing, then; the fear that the real women in their lives get together like Carrie and her cohorts and speak explicitly about their sex …