It finally happened. The moment that has been buzzed about all season: Patricia Field’s return to the Sex and the City franchise. Oh, and of course, our favorite and the most iconic character Samantha Jones’s brief but monumental cameo. The scene was all but 74 seconds (yes, we counted), but, honey, did it nourish us. Not only did we get a final good-bye from both Samantha and Kim Cattrall (I love that she thanked the apartment and not the girls, considering her well-known feud with the rest of the cast) but we were treated to Field’s impeccable taste and vision.
“I wanted to bring back Samantha Jones. I didn’t veer off and make some other image,” Field said in a recent interview with Elle. “I thought she looked good. That’s my job.” And, while she certainly doesn’t need my approval, the famed stylist did her job. Field dressed Cattrall in a metallic trench coat draped over a red dress (classic Sam Jones), paired with bold, chunky silver jewelry and a Fendi First green leather clutch. All these years later, Samantha exuded the exact same energy she always had, communicating all the nuances of her personality simply in the way she dresses — professional, ambitious, underscored with an air of “do not fuck with me” and serious sex appeal. It was one of the few moments a character in And Just Like That … looked just as they should — which is to say, just as we remember them.
I would be remiss, though, to not mention how Samantha’s frenemies have seriously stepped up to the sartorial plate these last few episodes. Across the board, the ensemble’s Last Supper looks finally scratched that aesthetic itch I’ve had all season. Metallics galore, accessories abound, and sleeves puffed to the gods! We had one standout, in the form of our gracious host, Ms. Caroline Marie Bradshaw, but we’ll get to her later. Her guests understood the memo: Seema’s silver Givenchy dress was chic and sultry; Anthony’s golden rose boutonniere was romantic (very fitting considering his closet makeout sesh and subsequent concession to onscreen bottoming); and Miranda’s caped, fitted red dress was the perfect revenge-but-not-revenge dress to take her power back from Che in the very same spot where she once got finger-banged by them so hard she orgasm-screamed loud enough to wake a pain-pill–filled Carrie in the next room over. Ah, that’s amore.
As for all of us, the loyal viewers who tuned in every week to hate-watch (or love-watch, on occasion) this inimitable series, we made it. We have completed the marathon that was And Just Like That … season two. Thank you all for being with me on this mismatched, ostentatious, chaotic, sometimes-good-but-definitely-unmissable journey. I’ve hated loving every minute of it. I’ll see you all, for better or worse, for season three.
I Couldn’t Help But Stare …
I would like to personally thank the costume department for feeding us at Carrie’s final dinner. While we couldn’t join them in dining on the finest food a Michelin chef can provide in-house, we at least were given a feast for the eyes by way of Carrie’s party frock. For her final bow, our Upper East Side expat wore a silver-and-black-checkered Oscar de la Renta tea-length gown — maybe she took inspiration from the only other person to ever host a true Last Supper, Jesus, by wearing a just-below-the-knee-length garment? — paired with vintage sheer, beaded Oscar de la Renta sleeves, leggings, and Rene Caovilla sequined shoes. It was a true Carrie Bradshaw outfit and a showstopper at that. What a proper send-off.
Honorable Mentions
Shoe, the cat. She’s technically naked, sure, but she gets points for being named after a fashion accessory and for being the cutest, never-aging kitten the franchise has ever seen.
I mean, come on.
Lisette’s puffed shoulders and frilly sleeves. The look says, “I’m an old soul, I promise!”
Anthony’s golden rose.
Miranda’s caped gown was very BBC-interview appropriate. (We would also like to acknowledge her silvery metallic—again!—trench coat. Hope she didn’t leave it behind when she was hailing her “Museum of Sex” ad–pilled cab!)
Seema’s sultry Givenchy number. And Ravi’s ascot: We get it, you’re in the movie business!
Professor Wallace’s look at least turned the head of Mr. Michelin Chef.
Aidan! In a nice, normal, guy-who-lives-in-Virginia-but-did-a-stint-in-New York sweater. It’s a garment that says, “Hey, I’m kind of dumping you. Wanna wait five years for me?”
The Samantha Jones moment we were all waiting for.
Shoe, the cat. She’s technically naked, sure, but she gets points for being named after a fashion accessory and for being the cutest, never-aging kitten the franchise has ever seen.
I mean, come on.
Lisette’s puffed shoulders and frilly sleeves. The look says, “I’m an old soul, I promise!”
Anthony’s golden rose.
Miranda’s caped gown was very BBC-interview appropriate. (We would also like to acknowledge her silvery metallic—again!—trench coat. Hope she didn’t leave it behind when she was hailing her “Museum of Sex” ad–pilled cab!)
Seema’s sultry Givenchy number. And Ravi’s ascot: We get it, you’re in the movie business!
Professor Wallace’s look at least turned the head of Mr. Michelin Chef.
Aidan! In a nice, normal, guy-who-lives-in-Virginia-but-did-a-stint-in-New York sweater. It’s a garment that says, “Hey, I’m kind of dumping you. Wanna wait five years for me?”
The Samantha Jones moment we were all waiting for.
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