I’ve figured out why we can’t stop watching the cringe fest that is And Just Like That

I'm not binge watching, I'm healing my inner twentysomething

It was season 2, episode 2 when I realised how much I hated And Just Like That.

There wasn’t one stand out scene, rather a combination. Starting with an unhinged Charlotte refusing to buy her daughter an electric keyboard which she wanted to further her musical talents.

For most parents this is an understandable conversation, but not for Charlotte who is so out of touch with the real world she could do with touching earth, let alone grass.

So rather than buying her 16-year-old daughter a £120 Casio, Charlotte goes into only what can be described as a psychosis after discovering Lily sold her old designer dresses to get her hands on said keyboard. Even selling one piece from Lagerfeld’s last Chanel collection *gasp*.

Then there was Miranda’s beach clean where she lost her phone, causing her to have to interact with a group of ‘stoner surfers’ who appeared to have been written by someone who most likely has a printed-out Minion meme displayed in their desk cubicle.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a £120 Casio from Argos, but it’s certainly less than a vintage Chanel dress

Finally, Carrie’s refusal to read an advert on vaginas for her podcast, despite creating an entire career talking about sex, was the last straw for me.

I can’t deny it. The show is terrible. The plot lines are dire, and the once beloved nuanced characters now have less depth than Peppa Pig and her family.

So why can’t I stop watching?

I have a whole list of TV shows I’ve started and never finished despite Netflix constantly trying to tempt me back with their “continue watching list”, but somehow, despite my frustration, I’ve not missed a single AJLT episode.

And it’s not just watching the show. I’m hooked on searching for bonus content on TikTok. Rewatching scenes that made me internally rage and seeking online commentary I can engage with.

After another morning procrastinating and typing ‘Steve and Miranda’ into my phone keyboard, I knew enough was enough and some internal reflection was very much needed.

I was a teenager when I started watching Sex & The City. I can vividly remember going to Worcester town centre to buy the pink and black cardboard box set with my Christmas money whilst staying with my Nanny and Grandad.

As a young woman who had to shop in Etam instead of Tammy, romantic attention was something that didn’t happen to me. Despite having not so much as a heavy petting session with a boy, I lapped up Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte’s escapades.

They told me my adulthood would be full of meet cutes, dinner dates and love interest after love interest. So of course, when I finally entered my twenties and the meet cutes never happened and the marriage proposals never came, I felt cheated.

Even when I escaped my insurance job and started my dream career at Cosmopolitan magazine, my life couldn’t have been further away from Carrie’s. Along with the prospect of owning my own apartment on a writer’s salary.

Not what my twenties looked like

Could it be that my fascination with AJLT is the same as our collective curiosity with our former school mates. The popular girls who got to live their best life are now flailing. They’ve lost their pretty privilege along with their husbands, careers and identity.

Call it internalised misogyny, but there’s something satisfying about watching Carrie and co flounder, when I’m finally (don’t push me too hard) finding my feet at 36.

Not to mention that the show is so ridiculous it’s a welcome break from the heavy, cinematic TV series we’ve all binge watched the past few years.

Watching the first episode of The Last Of Us I realised I wasn’t quite ready for a fictional pandemic, post living through a real life one and The Handmaids Tale has become the new Simpsons seemingly predicting our own dystopian futures.

And Just Like That on the other hand is pure senseless escapism, which allows me/us to fantasise about that ex from 15 years ago.

It may have been the snake oil of my twenties, but AJLT is the tonic for the lies of youth we were sold.

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