while rendered prostrate one saturday afternoon after an overindulgent evening prior, we found solace in the weekly saturday sex and the city marathon. fashion, laughs and the sexual zeitgeist; truly the television series of a generation.
we’ve always said most girls would like to think herself a carrie, if not solely for the soles (okay, and the clothes. and the men.) but bras and ranties knows that deep down, we’re really a samantha. and not just because of our recent propensity toward power shoulders, oversized geometric earrings and sculpted young models.
in fact it is samantha who most often preaches to our choir, her perspective on humans and humans banging oddly similar to ours in theory (though unfortunately not quite in execution). so it was no wonder that her declaration caused us to sit up alert (headrush and all). it was as if the pieces had fallen into place. it just all made sense now.
who you are in bed is who you are in life.
a chill ran through us as we quickly categorized and computed, our own man-tally a test module. it is mother fucking true. and of course it is. your raw, primal side drives you in the bedroom, just as your confidence and point of view drives your grip on life. you can be extroverted and authentic, or you can worry what the other person’s thinking. you can be you, or you can be someone you think you should be. you can live loud and ask for what you want, or you can spend your time wondering why no one gives you what you need. you can be in control, or you can be controlled.
the theory, quite obviously, works in reverse; a (pseudo) scientific explanation for what bras and ranties likes to refer to as the food chain. in fact, if you perk up your awareness and intuit about those who come across your path, you’re surprised to find how easy people are to read. and imagine – to garner clues as to someone’s bedside manner simply by observing them interacting with other humans? it’d save a fuck lot of time then, wouldn’t it.
all hail samantha jones. tellin it true.