Fuck politics; today only fashion, by Patrycia Centeno

They are looking for some billionaires who took a fancy to go look at the sunken remains of the Titanic while we look the other way when hundreds of immigrants die on the shores of the Mediterranean every week. In Valencia, a bullfighter will be the “conseller” of Culture and Vox has entered many other governments and institutions in the rest of the State with its characteristic cockiness and its large doses of machismo, racism and environmental denial..

The PP, in the absence of beaches in Spain, has set up a false one with sand, umbrellas, Borja Sémper barefoot with a lectern and, in the background, a photo of the horizon to present his campaign ‘Verano azu'” (can anyone tell you that Chanquete been dead 40 years?). In Barcelona, ​​the ‘comuns’ continue to be inventive to try to explain what happened on Saturday when they allowed Jaume Collboni to be sworn in as mayor together with the popular ones Because confessing that they like power the way Gollum likes the ring doesn’t quite convince them…

And then my head explodes and I scream: “enough, I can’t take it anymore”. One of my friends comes to mind when he reminds me of “Patry, people take drugs, you’re weird and you don’t but it’s impossible to survive being connected to the news all day without help and even more so being autonomous”. So I open the wine, pour myself a cold glass of Albariño (throw away the dirt) and prepare to escape.

Premiere of the second season of ‘And just like that’. “Carrie, work your magic,” I mentally plead as I turn up the volume. It doesn’t matter if the series started off weak. It is seeing Bradshaw leave through the bathroom door of his apartment, parading through his dressing room corridor, and forgetting about the world.. Or as Trias would say: “Que us bombin a tots”. And she sees that Sarah Jessica Parker appears in that first moment with a simple white sweatshirt, her beautiful long blonde hair and some Manolos; but it is enough. It brings me to life, teleports me back to a couple of decades ago when all my dreams seemed reasonably real and attainable (basically working as little as Carrie and being able to afford an apartment in NY and enjoy a closet as fabulous as hers).

Dressed for the Met

In the first available chapter, Carrie and her friends face the drama of choosing a dress and looking divine for the Met Gala. Outfit tests here, makeup and hairdressing there, selection of escorts there. All fictitious because it is Anna Wintour who decides who goes to the gala, it is the designer who chooses the hanger and there is no alternative entrance other than the stairs for non-celebrities, as proposed in the series. But listen, if the PP invents a beach (and a ‘mascletà’) in Madrid, why won’t they let themselves be carried away by fantasy in a fiction?

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In addition, the aesthetic result does not end up being the seediness of national politics. Here at least the show is as excessively beautiful as it is useless and also they do not sell you serious claims to change the world or your life. Carrie ends up retrieving Vivienne Westwood’s iconic wedding dress (the designer died last December), complete with the bird’s headdress, to reconcile with the bad memory of her; and Lisa Todd Wexley, up to the point of reconciling professional life with family logistics, punishes her husband by carrying the kilometric tail of her red Valentino haute couture six apples.

Whenever I talk about ‘Sex and the City’ I remember that in 2008, at a press pass for the premiere of the first film in the Sex and the City series, a renowned film critic got up from his seat in the middle of the film and exclaimed “it sucks” before storming off. Surely Jaume Figueras was right. There were only clothes (by the way, the fabulous jeans that Carrie wears were by the recently deceased Jose Castro, one of the most talented designers this country has produced after Balenciaga and Paco Rabanne), men, sex, love and friendship, nothing more. I don’t know exactly what Figueras was trying to find in that movie theater, but I’m not judging him. That outburst comes out to me every time I watch the news and incomprehensibly I still harbor hopes that one day the political scene will not embarrass me…

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