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Дрэг-двойник Кэрри Брэдшоу
Продолжаем рассказывать о достойных аккаунтах в соцсетях, через которые можно рассматривать целый мир.
Днём тридцатидвухлетний Дэн Клэй из Нью-Йорка работает консультантом по стратегиям и инновациям (то, чем он занимается, сам называет «Miranda-like day job»), но в свободное от работы время превращается в одну из главных поп-культурных героинь рубежа тысячелетий. Свою вторую натуру Дэн называет Кэрри Дрэгшоу.
Всё началось так: Дэн нарядился в Кэрри на Хэллоуин, и его образ оценила сама Сара Джессика Паркер, а не так давно его похвалили и в лучшем фан-аккаунте сериала в инстаграме. Кэрри Дрэгшоу вобрала в себя, кажется, главные привычки прототипа: она гуляет по Нью-Йорку в юбке-пачке, курит, задумавшись перед ноутбуком, не стесняется «газетных» платьев и просто много улыбается. Для Дэна это всего лишь хобби, поэтому обновления он выкладывает редко, но метко. Отличный пример того, как важно быть тем, кем хочется.
Yesterday I did a guest post for the brilliant queens of @everyoutfitonsatc and I wanted to post it too because 1) it's my favorite scene in the show 🐎, 2) it's my favorite Carrie caption I've written so far, 3) I made that fu*king bag, and 4) most importantly people have been so nice I wanted to say thank you! You are making this little queen smile huge ❤CD❤ In New York, if you want to know how the other half lives, you head to the Plaza—the hotel where Chanel got tea, Gatsby got mad, Sinatra got applause…and Big got away. As he drove off with his perfectly simple fiancé, I started thinking about My Other Half. What happens to the girls who never find theirs? Was my heart a half-empty hotel, with a “Big Vacancy” sign on the revolving door? I couldn’t help but wonder: Did some women need to tone down to settle down? Change their shape to find a match, change their soul to find a mate? Or could it be that life isn’t about searching for someone who makes you complete—it’s about realizing you already are. And maybe, just maybe, we’re born with the love we’re meant to find. And if the world says tone it down—turn it up. Because your true other half knows you’re already whole. #CarrieDragshaw
It can be hard out there for a single girl, but there are a few words that provide instant comfort: “Vogue September Issue,” “2-for-1 Cosmopolitans,” “Manolo Blahnik Sample Sale,” and “Perfect First Date Follow-Up.” PFDFU. It's flirty and funny. Easy, breezy, and cool. He's clearly into it and you're like a pair of purple control top pantyhose: fun and holding it all together. It takes you right back to that perfect first date, when the conversation flowed effortlessly, the spark lit instantly, and the first kiss felt like fate. As you flirt on the phone, you float on a cloud that seems to sparkle from the inside, and for a moment you forget your baggage, you forget your past, you forget how many times you’ve felt this feeling before but it failed to last...and you smile. I couldn't help but wonder: Maybe love is like a mobile phone. When you have a good connection, you’ve just got to keep talking and hope for the best. #CarrieDragshaw
After heading West for a week of work, I was home. To quote another blonde wanderer, L.A. is too hot—too sunny, too sandy, too supermodelly. San Francisco is too cold—all tech, no talk. And I don’t trust a city where you can’t tell the difference between a billionaire, hipster, or homeless person. All hoodie, no Fendi. All flannel, no Chanel. For this Goldilocks, New York is just right. I couldn’t help but wonder: If my roots are so far away, why do I blossom in New York? I guess not all flowers grow in the sun. Some need the shade of skyscrapers, the ballet of crowded sidewalks, dollar slices in Dior, bodega cats and Birkin bags, MoMA with Monet, sunsets with Lady Liberty, the pleasure of 5th Avenue and the pain of Penn Station and most of all: the people-watching—because we might not have much nature, but we’re overflowing with life. So L.A. can keep its sun and San Francisco can have its screens, because I need magic, and I only bloom in New York. #CarrieDragshaw
As I lifted up Le Big Mac, I couldn’t help but wonder: In an era of fast food, cell phones, and speed dates, does romance stand a chance? When the morning story is yesterday’s news by the afternoon, can we really expect love to last? Maybe modern relationships were destined to be like a fast food burger: easy and unhealthy. Love in the Time of Domino’s: Quick, convenient, and leaves you feeling cheap. But I still held out hope that, even in a fast food nation, we could be a fancy French restaurant. In a world of Whoppers, he could be my filet. And maybe, just maybe, in an era of urgent e-mails, we could be a long love letter—best read with a side of fries. #CarrieDragshaw
In old westerns, the cowboy always saves the damsel in distress. But what if the cowboy is the reason she’s distressed in the first place? Who will save the damsel when her hero is her downfall? As I was face-to-face with yet another failure on the wild frontier of love, I couldn’t help but wonder: Maybe this was the story of the damsel who learned to save herself. After all, this is not the Old West—this is New York. And there’s plenty of giddy up left in my honky tonk. Maybe some girls aren’t meant to ride into the sunset. Maybe they're meant to grab their other damsels and dance under the moonlight. #CarrieDragshaw
In a city as big as New York, we have more than one of everything. Two baseball teams. Two ballet companies. And three newspapers--each with different readers. Journal readers go to conferences, Times readers go to benefits, and Post readers go to bed with you. And they all wanted to go to Augustine. At the corner of "See" and "Be Seen," Augustine was the Manhattan restaurant of the moment, and since Samantha was running PR for their soft opening we had a hard-to-get table for four. And we had something to celebrate: that magical moment in girl friends' lives when you're all single at the same time. But as I made my way to our overdressed and undersexed table, I couldn't help but wonder: were we like that hot reservation that everyone wanted but no one could get? Or were we that old has-been restaurant that everyone forgot? Extra! Extra! Four single women! Were we hot off the presses or yesterday's news? Whatever we were, we'd be it together. #carriedragshaw
They say home is where the heart is. But what if your heart is broken? Maybe home is where you find the people who will put it back together. Because if you live somewhere long enough, every corner is a reminder of a date, a kiss, a heartache. Every sidewalk hides a land mine of What Ifs, Mistakes and Maybes--Memories of giving your heart to men who didn't deserve it and getting love you didn't know what to do with. As I looked up at my apartment, my little rent-controlled tree house in the concrete jungle, I couldn't help but wonder: Maybe mistakes are what make a house a home. Maybe the secret to a happy, perfectly imperfect life is simply this: As you're giving your heart away, don't forget to keep a little for yourself. It's home. And as another lost girl once said, There's no place like it. #CarrieDragshaw #whatoutfitshouldbenext?
Meanwhile across town, Miranda and I were proving once again that nothing beats the breakup blues like a pink cupcake from Magnolia. As I bit in I couldn't help but wonder: Is love nothing more than a sugar rush? Does it always start out sweet and decadent and then just leave you with a stomach ache? There's a reason they call it Devil's Food. And even if you are lucky enough to trade your cupcake for a wedding cake, are you still destined for a sugar crash? But as I sat there next to Miranda, comfortable in our high-glycemic silence, I had a sweet epiphany: Maybe friends are what really matter, and men are just the icing on the cake. #carriedragshaw
Can you ever really move on from an ex? That night, as I took off my soaking wet $400 shoes, I couldn't stop thinking about the stains and damage of our failed love lives. I wondered, Were ex-boyfriends like the puddles of bad break-ups? Just when you think the storm is over, they splash on your new Manolos? After another messy night with Big, maybe I had to do a better job of keeping myself dry. After all, only children jump in puddles. Adults buy umbrellas. And maybe, just maybe, if you skip around enough puddles, there's a great big rainbow waiting on the other side. #CarrieDragshaw
As I thought back on another night at the Standard, I couldn't help but wonder: is Halloween really any different than a night out in New York? Before we leave the house, we all put on our masks--some to make us look prettier, or stronger, or sexier, or even scarier, harder to reach. But are these masks really disguises--or dreams? And how far are we willing to go to prevent people from seeing who we really are? #CarrieDragshaw