When I started watching the first season of “Sex and the City” last fall, I was in it for the attire and the memes.
The internet agreed that SATC was the ultimate fall TV show, which meant striking outfits on leafy New York City streets, a mythical man with no first name and the wandering thoughts of a sex columnist were suddenly haunting my social media FYP, beckoning to me.
So I answered the call. After wading through brutal early season Raptors losses, I crossed the Rubicon into ’90s Manhattan with my vintage Yankees windbreaker in tow. I knew I had to do it quickly with season 3 of the sequel series “And Just Like That…” around the corner; the new season starts May 29.
I was hooked from the very first restaurant table scene, and fell headlong into the show’s weakness for cosmopolitans, reverence for Manolo Blahnik and parade of failed relationships.
As a Black, Zillennial guy from Toronto, I may not seem like the original show’s target audience. But while SATC is set in the ’90s among 30-something women, I found it tackled relationship issues we’ve been facing for time immemorial. Back then, the term f—-boy didn’t exist yet but Mr. Big was the epitome of one. He only called when Carrie was at her most vulnerable, they only hung out at night and never with her friends. Today we’d call that a situationship at best.
It was like watching an emotionally unavailable time traveller run amok, 30 years before society identified him. Beneath the Giorgio Armani suits was surely a tattoo sleeve, skinny jeans, Yeezy slides and an unhealthy admiration for Drake — and only I could tell.
It’s clear that in the world of “Sex and the City,” Carrie is the fashionista, with her $40,000 shoe collection and one-of-a-kind dresses. In one scene, she was wearing a tube top and maxi skirt when she stopped to help her elderly neighbour, Mrs. Cohen, down the steps of their apartment building — only for the senior to call her outfit “crazy.” It was meant to signal the old lady’s lack of taste, but in 2025, Mrs. Cohen’s own rainbow stone necklace and what could be mistaken for a Takashi Murakami Louis Vuitton bucket hat was drip while Carrie was merely on trend.
Samantha’s cutting humour had me rolling every episode. She “dated like a man,” had “sex like a man” and was proud of it. Race, age, gender or religion didn’t matter; if you could match her wit, you were in. She was described as a fabulous dresser by the other characters but her style left me unmoved. Her fur coats and vibrant colours were eye-grabbing but never memorable.
I thought I loved Charlotte, for the first two seasons. She was a hopeless romantic but slowly her rigidity broke me. I couldn’t stand watching as she fumbled Trey (twice) and nearly Harry too, when they failed to meet her idyllic standards. Her prim skirts and preppy sweater vests were sharp but a flimsy facade masking how she had failed to live up to her own WASP-y fantasy.
And then there was Miranda.
Unlike Big, Miranda was a modern archetype roiling, not revelling, in the past. She was Ivy League educated, a partner at her law firm and making enough money to buy her own place. Today, her independence and success would be commonplace but in the show she’s alien, and her cynicism about it is so pervasive it cost her relationships before they even began. I was rooting for her when she met Steve, Robert and then Steve again.
Clad in suits and sneakers, Miranda is the masc. to offset the group’s femme. In every scene, her outfits, costumed by the New York City fashion legend Patricia Field, simply served. She was walking on a different plane than everyone else and was barely understood, let alone appreciated for it.
Today, though, androgyny is a major theme in fashion. Influencer Wisdom Kaye regularly wears heels, WNBA star Paige Bueckers wears a tan suit in a GQ photo shoot, and people of all genders drool over both. Miranda was tapping into that non-binary energy 30 years ago. I couldn’t help but wonder: Would Miranda’s outfits make sense on a man today? I decided to try it out.
Outfit 1: Blue blazer and shirt, no tie
The best outfits accentuate features you already have, and I kept noticing Miranda’s neck. A giraffe on two legs, Miranda spent a plethora of episodes jutting out of turtlenecks. In season 2, episode 6, she went more formal in a navy suit, sprouting out of a baby-blue dress shirt collar, with an air tie.
A suit only requires a tie because of tradition, but Miranda already steps outside those bounds by wearing menswear. That’s her fashion hallmark: classic with an air of defiance. As a lawyer, formal attire is expected of her, but without the tie, the suit nears playfulness.
Wearing this look feels freeing, cheeky, almost like making fun of how formal it is to wear a suit. I’ve never had to wear a suit to work as a journalist, so I appreciate the freedom around the neck. And the vibrant shades of blue suggest an openness and vulnerability that a traditional business suit doesn’t afford.
Outfit 2: Slim black suit and skinny tie
While Miranda’s corporate focus often comes across as stern, this black suit and skinny tie reveals her as stylish. Gathering the elements of this outfit was easy: Black suit, white shirt, black tie, black belt. But when I put it on, it felt like funeral attire. Then I studied the screen again, and realized the details of the look are what makes it.
The tie is actually a green so dark it’s nearly black. The belt buckle is grey. That is what separates Miranda from Agent Smith. When she’s standing next to Carrie, it’s also the clearest contrast of her masc. to the show’s effervescent femme standard. Instead of a cinched waist, Miranda sports broad shoulders and slouches to mask her height.
When I wore the full look, I felt I was en route to an 8 a.m. flight or power breakfast meeting, not a funeral procession. The thinness of the tie implies movement, and its subtle colour winks to a liveliness beneath the business.
Outfit 3: Denim overalls
Even at their lowest, you’d never catch Charlotte, Samantha or Carrie in overalls. But in a very contemporary way, Miranda opts for function over fashion. When not at the office, she was an early workwear and streetwear adopter. She wore denim overalls twice in season one and once in season two, breaking out a puffer and ball cap combo with Adidas Superstars.
As someone who has lived through the dark days of skinny jeans and nestled nicely into today’s baggy streetwear, this seemed like the easiest outfit of Miranda’s to replicate. I’d just grab some overalls, add a tank, sneakers and a gold chain for some panache and shoot.
Although swimming in oversized overalls is what Miranda did and is trendy today, I couldn’t help but want to fill them out, just a little. Without her puffer, I felt bare. The simplicity spoke to me but the gym crept into my mind. Somehow, a rail-thin woman in overalls inspired me to do bicep curls to match her aura in the same outfit. Miranda’s masc. energy was dripping off the screen, undeniable.
