We may round this last lap of the decade still debating whether Carrie Bradshaw and her stiletto-teetering cohorts were feminist icons or proof of the hollowness of our existence, but one thing is certain — like Freddie Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers and Jigsaw, they cannot be stopped.
And so, as that last part of you that didn’t have as much affection for the Jay-Z anthem as Alex DeLarge did for Beethoven’s Ninth finally withers and dies, behold “the friendship, the fashion,” the glitz of a city unscathed by recession, and four women who will forever refer to themselves as “the girls.”
