year after year, twenty-something women come to new york city in search of the two "l's": labels and love.
twenty years ago.  i was one of them.
having gotten the knack for labels early.  i concentrated on my search for love.
turns out, a "knock-off" is not as easy to spot when comes to love.
until it is.
that is why you need help to spot them.
 lots of help.
year after year, my single girlfriends were my salvation. and, as it turns out.
 my meal ticket.
we still are those four single girls.
even though, technically.  we're not.
one of us is married.
one of us.  married, divorced and re-married.
one of us.  relocated.
and.  one of us stayed exactly where she was.
in love.
i've always loved this block.
finding the perfect apartment in new york city is like finding the perfect partner. it can take years.
this is thirty-three.
thirty-four. lucky thirty-four?
if anything else opens up let us know. we're very interested in this building.
oh my god. i've died and gone to real estate heaven. look at this place.
hellooo, i live here.
what -- nirvana?
no, he's my boyfriend.
point taken. from now on.  you'll be my man friend.
well, if the shoe fits.
hideous. hate it. hurts my eyes.
how is this place even available?
if you live here what is there to fight about?
this is the master closet? no.
hmmm. hmmm. now, i understand the divorce.
can we afford this?
"i got it." just like that. "i got it" -- like he was picking up the check for coffee or something.
except for the closet which big says he can redo -- also he says the kitchen needs work but i don't know about that `cause i keep sweaters in my stove.
yes, together. that's right.
oh, miranda, please, i haven't figured out all the details yet, but i'm a smart girl and i'm sure i'll figure out something i'm comfortable with.
and i love you for it -- but for now can't you stop worrying for me and just go ahead and feel what i want you to feel. jealous.
jealous of me living in this gorgeous penthouse in manhattan.
there she is. hey hollywood!
how was your flight?
it was a rare occasion that brought all types of women together. the socialites, the trendies the yuppies, the yentas.
blair elkenn was a waitress turned model turned actress turned billionaire's girlfriend who came home one night to find herself unceremoniously turned out on the street.
and now she was getting the ultimate break-up revenge. an embarrassing and very public auction of all the jewelry he had given her when they were happy.
and a little too much.
and people say the golden age of television is over.
if schadenfreude is the word for feeling pleasure at someone else misfortune -- this was "jewelryfreude."
and the gloves are off.
i'm not sitting, i'm thinking.
i'm thinking i'm going to sell my apartment and put the money towards heaven on fifth.
i know but --
we're together ever night -- so i'm basically paying a mortgage on a glorified closet.
there's plenty of room at the new place and -- besides.  i want to make us -- a life there. i want it to be ours.
and that's so amazing --but you bought it, so it's really your place. and -- if anything were to happen.
i have to be smart here. i mean, we're not married and i'd have no legal rights to.  this home that i built.  with you.
i didn't think it was an option.
well, people are always assuming we are.
you and me.
why -- do you want to get married?
no, if that's what you want. is that what you want?
okay. really? we're getting married.
no, please, don't get me a diamond. get me a really big closet.
so, the other night, big and i were talking about, you know, moving in together and our future.
 and about what makes sense as we move forward. and, well.  we decided to get married.
everyone's looking
i am mortified.
well.  i made a little decision that i hope you'll be happy about.
no. i did not get botox
i did not call to talk about botox.
so.  last week, after the auction, i started thinking about my options.
right, and.  well, big and i decided to get married.
yes.
you sounded more excited about the botox.
hello?
i hear ya.
i know.
sorry about the extra paper work.
samantha, it feels so different this time. no clich romantic kneeling down on one knee. just you know, two grown-ups -- making a decision about spending their lives together.
and one more thing.  i want you to be maid of honor. how do you feel about that?
as a wedding gift, charlotte had given me anthony marantino -- friend and wedding planner.
what? she was borderline anyway.
oh. i found the dress.
the other day. i have it here.
here it is.
well.  that was the exact reaction i was aiming for.
simple and classic. when i saw it i just thought: that is what i should marry big in.
no one. i found it in a vintage shop.
don't worry, i'll style it up with shoes.
i heard that.
and from anthony marantino to spaghetti marinara.
it's okay, i know all about sex.
 "color"?
we get it. you love to color. why are you asking?
so.  sleep is the new sex?
-- i meant coloring.
oh my.
never. but, i will tell you this. when big colors -- he rarely stays inside the lines.
one glass of merlot and two orgasms later.
and that is how samantha learned she had a new neighbor.
john?
lean?
i love the smell.
"the love letters of great men." volume one.
no, but some of your classmates are. voltaire, napoleon.
no, i don't -- you have them. here's napoleon.  "my dearest josephine, i wake consumed with thoughts of you --"
research for my new book.
love. i use to write about finding love-- now i want to write about what happens after you've found it.
stay tuned.
listen.  here's beethoven.
"my thoughts go out to you today my immortal beloved. i can live only wholly with you or not at all."
"be calm my life, my all. only by calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together. oh continue to love me, never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved. ever thine -- ever mine -- ever ours.
have you ever written me a love letter?
when have i ever gotten a love fax?
yeah, yeah.  put it in writing.
i've been thinking.
how about we get married at the new york public library? think how perfect. you and i and our love story surrounded by all the other lesser love stories.
it's not that big a deal. it's seventy-five people in a room that's partitioned in half.
well, what did you have in mind?
interesting.
elaine, hi. do you know john?
elaine writes a single gal column for the new york post.
well. we're getting married.
our wedding's on page six.
oh, i know who.
later that day, i met my friend stanford for our weekly quick lunch and gossip session.  also known as "dish then dash."
rumor has it.
where are we eating?
it seemed everywhere i went.  people i knew were excited and available to come to the wedding.
the shocking thing was not the plethora of empty autumn social calenders but knowledge that everyone does indeed read page six.
even people you didn't expect, like my vogue editor, enid.
great. who am i interviewing?
wait -- i would be in the magazine?
enid -- i'm so very flattered but--
well, i'm hardly the last single girl.
i thought the issue was "great style at every age."
enid -- i have no idea -- were you ever married?
why didn't the marriage work out?
none at all.
just your typical wednesday. breakfast with.  vera wang.
mid-morning coffee with.  carolina herrera.
appetizers with oscar de la renta.
lunch with lanvin.
 and lacroix.
 and dior.
and for dessert -- vivienne westwood.
a confection so special.
 it could wring a wedding tear from even the most unbelieving of women.
and then the impossible happened.
and just like that, vivienne westwood kicked my sweet little suit's ass.
double door. so far so good.
well. you did me proud, mister.
like it? it's love at first sight.
now, i believe this is all really happening.
yeah, a sign i priced it too low.
that's the food -- money on the table. i'll get started in the closet.  i should be done in seventeen years.
you're good friends.
what are you doing here?!
it took four friends, three days to put twenty years into twenty-eight boxes.
hi.
well, i'm so excited you are here for a sleepover.
brady, do you want to go have some peanut butter?
steve. i can't believe it. steve.
the next night, for the sake of brady, miranda went against her instincts and went home.
so miranda left brooklyn and came home.  to manhattan.
i don't know if this question is allowed -- but how is steve handling this?
that's what i said.
charlotte made love to harry five times that week.
miranda was starting to see the upside of alzheimer's.
wedding crunch time. we need to really get serious here.
nope. wedding before contractor. unless you're planning to invite him -- which would make the guest list two hundred and one.
blame the new york post and vogue. two publications that have never before been uttered in the same sentence.
it's the dress. how can i explain this? it's like poker -- the dress upped the ante.
no, no, no -- you haven't seen this dress. this dress may be the whole reason to get married. well, you and the dress.
how are you coming with your vows? just a reminder -- you are going to be saying these in front of a lot of people, so the pressure is on.
hey.
this is our wedding and you're not taking it seriously.
i didn't know that was even an issue. why didn't you say anything sooner?
but -- don't you want --
i think it's too late for city hall now.
you're a great man friend.
who is that again?
karl's kind of a jerk.
whooo!
jackass.
there you are. i thought you skipped out on me.
well, the all-gal sleepover is about to commence. you gonna miss me?
oh.  one night won't kill you. and tomorrow you get to have me for the rest of your life.
is everything okay?
go home and sleep. now, give me a kiss good night. make it good -- it's the last single girl kiss.
there we sat.  like a scene out of louisa may alcott's: "not-so little women."
ha ha -- hilarious -- we broke up a lot.
you want to answer? go ahead, sweetie.  open it up.
say something.
sweetie, that was your first bootie call.
hello?
oh my god -- did you just hear lily?
it's big. i'm gonna take it in the--
what's the matter?
you won't.
here's the thing. this is me that you're marrying tomorrow. me. nobody else.
and i'm marrying you. it's me and you. and you want to know the good news there?
we've already both done everything we can to screw it up.
is that a smile i'm hearing?
now, it sounds to me like you've got a bit of writer's block on the vow front.
and i find - you know - as a professional writer- it's best to just, you know, stop thinking about it so much -- and go to bed. and in the morning.
exactly. and if not -- just write this: "i will love you." simple and to-the-point. and i swear i won't even try to take credit for it.
you're going to bed now, right?
i'll see you tomorrow. hey. me and you.
there you are! almost lost you under all that. got your purse?
whose got a mirror?
stanford, you're on my dress.
it's carrie.  leave me a message.
this is carrie, leave a message.
what's happening?
did anyone call him? give me a phone. someone give me a phone.
i don't know how to work this.
are you okay?
i don't know where my phone is! what is going on? where are you?
oh my god --
he's not coming. oh my god.
get me out of here. -- get me out of here!
i knew you would do this -- i knew it!
you left! i am humiliated!
i thought i would still be in extreme pain but i'm feeling nothing.
i'd like a little more nothing.
i had gone from little women to little drunk women.
yes, i'm still jilted.
i knew it when he called last night. i could tell.
didn't want to believe it. didn't even want to say it out loud. and now i have nowhere to love -- i meant live. i have nowhere to live.
forever.
well, if you change your minds, i know where we can get one hundred beef, seventy-five fish and twenty- five vegetarian meals.
and my clothes. all my clothes. i can never go over there again. how am i going to get my clothes?
a hit man? i have nothing to wear but a wedding gown.
there's the silver lining. a honeymoon to a romantic mexican resort that's pre-paid on my credit card because i wanted to surprise the man who jilted me.
wasn't there?
close the shutters.
all of them.
did i dream it?
so?
i'm tired.
is there coffee?
let's go down to the hotel for dinner on the beach tonight.
yeah. i've got to do something to pull me out of my mexicoma.
too late.
i'll drink hers.
we're staying in one of the private houses. number three.
that was like taking a bullet.
will i ever laugh again? i'm serious.
when?
thank god for that mariachi band or i'd be able to hear my own thoughts.
after everything i know.  after twenty years of everything we've learned -- i threw it all away for the thrill of putting his name on the honeymoon suite. if i met me now -- i wouldn't know me.
so, you're saying marriage is a bad thing? good to know right about now.
technically -- we're on my honeymoon.
he couldn't get out of the car. after everything he'd already put me through -- he couldn't make the effort and get out of the car? i made the effort -- i put a bird on my head.
yes.
no. it was a bird.
he's a bad guy. always was. bad guys do bad things.
that's nice. kinda balances off the one ball.
mrs. preston will take the check.
"mail box full."
not ready to face it all yet.
well, apparently you can go home again -- but it'll cost you.
you two could rule the world.
after her workout charlotte couldn't help but think about how truly blessed she was. this week had made her feel more grateful than ever for her happy marriage.
and while picturing her loved ones at home in new york, she forgot where she was.
and opened her mouth.
sweetie -- what's --
and just like that, charlotte pookeepsed in her pants.
miranda was right -- when something was really, really funny -- i laughed.
there was no better time i could think of to hire and assistant.
um, cathy.  you seem drunk.
and why do you think you're right for this job?
so, you're from st. louis?
have you ever been a personal assistant?
six kids? what was that like?
aside from the space issue.  why'd you move to new york?
no, it's just -- so -- honest. i don't think i've ever heard anyone say that in a long time.
well.  louise from st. louis.  i have just one more question. how does an unemployed girl with three roommates afford the patchwork denim bowley louis vuitton bag?
no! how can i not know about this?
and she did hook me up.
after only three days -- i began to think of her as saint louise from st. louis.
as much as miranda wanted to pat herself on the back for finding her new apartment in just one afternoon.  in the end, she knew --
it was a lovro connection.
yeah, hi, can you put on samantha?
you people and your relationships.
at the bottom of the ocean in mexico.
no, not yet. no phone -- no calls, no calls-- no questions, no questions-- no explaining no wedding.
plus, it's an excuse to break out the gloves.
when samantha jones decides to do something.
 she does it all the way.
she and smith did all the upscale l.a. couple things. sushi.
 spray tanning.
 and saving somalia.  samantha- style.
-- interesting -- so is carrie bradshaw.
come on -- when are we going to get to the really important things like unpacking my closet?
yes.
now?
so right.
delete.
and -- isn't there some cyberspace place that you can send those so that i never have to see an email from him ever again? do that please.
"and cinderella and prince charming lived happily ever after." this is a fairy tall sweetheart. things don't always happen like this in real life -- you should know that now.
and another one bites the dust.
sure. everything okay?
how?
sweetie.
i guess, in certain houses, fairy tales do come true.
i can't believe you're even dressing up.
you said a mouthful there, sister.
speaking of monsters -- i got an email from big.
"i don't know what to say." ah.  then don't send an email.
gonna take a little more than that to scare me after what i have been through.
and in the subject box: two words: i'm sorry.
maybe he's sorry.
point taken. i still can't believe this happened to me. i know it happened, but i can't believe it happened. i lay awake at night going over every detail of the last week in my head.
and then i saw it. the only thing scary enough to scare me after the experience i'd been through.
wait -- what's that say? in the box at the end?
is what?
"carrie bradshaw is still single and living in manhattan."
i didn't want to buy it - but i figured it was one less vogue in new york.
yes -- i'm a beautiful bride. come in.
hi, honey.
for me?
and what are you going to be for halloween?
yea!
look closer. i'm the scariest thing in new york. jilted at forty-one. boo.
you know you have to give me some of your loot, right?
louise!
that's the point. my head is the witness protection program.
and i am feeling that balenciaga on you.
already?
hold, hold, hold. 347? no, no. i'm a 917 gal. always have been.
great. now even i don't recognize me.
carrie bradshaw --
-- or i used to be.
i'm a 347 area code. how tacky is that?
i want the old new york with the old 917 and my old will to live.
looking?
yes. when i was a 212.
and in an effort to stay out of her house and out of trouble -- samantha went shopping.
it certainly wasn't the cutest dog in the pen - but their was something about it --
and just as samantha convinced herself that the dog wasn't for her.
no, it's too beautiful. i'll just bury it deep in the back -- like i did my feelings.
every day. you know, it's weird -- i haven't cried very much at all. maybe you're only allotted a certain amount of tears per man -- and i used mine up.
suddenly, it dawned on me -- there were two broken hearts in my-walk in.
louise -- we need a cocktail. grab your rental.
what happened?
good.
oh, i remember that smile. who's the guy?
at 11:30? that's a bootie call.
louise, i may not get texts and i may not send texts -- but trust me: the sub-text of that text: bootie.
all right, then. you kids enjoy. that's what your twenties are for. your thirties are to learn the lessons.
and your forties are to pay for drinks.
it's all about the desk. if i find the desk, the writing will come. and it better `cause i'm using my new book advance to pay the fancy decorator.
out with the old -- -- in with the overpriced.
hey, harry called me and mentioned you're not running.
`cause he loves you.  and he's concerned.
did the doctor say it wasn't safe or something?
so, why are you not --
but if the doctor said --
okay.
sweetie, you shit your pants this year. maybe you're done.
you run every day -- that's what you do. you can't stop being who you are -- just because you're afraid. right?
now let's get down to business. i've got to have my apartment done in time for that baby shower.
and as the last of the autumn leaves fell away -- so did charlotte's fear.
yep. i'm perfectly happy spending time home alone. and speaking of home -- you're going to miss your plane.
oh.  louise from st. louis.
now, i feel bad. if i had known we were going to exchange gifts --
i would have bought you one two weeks ago and hidden it in here.
open it.
no more rent girl for you.
it was the best money i'd ever spent.
new year's eve.  and a cup o'soup.
hello?
that's sweet but i can't, i'm writing.
no. you're not really having a fabulous time are you?
oh yes, that's just what every new year's eve party needs: a visit from the lost bronte sister.
thanks but -- by ten pm i'll be in bed asleep and blissfully unaware of how fabulous this night is supposed to be.
hello.
i was sleeping.
that's okay. where's brady?
right.
it's okay. are you alright?
want me to come over?
i can grab a cab --
you're not alone.
easy girl.
every year the women of new york leave the past behind and look forward to the future.  this is known as fashion week.
this way. i hear the couture calling my name.
very nice.
well.  not every saturday.
ah.  yes.
impressive. better work up a hand gesture to go with it.
well, i'll do my best. we'll talk after?
i've gotta go.
this was a mistake -- it's too soon -- i'm not ready. i'll go get a coffee and you guys call me after -- and i'll meet you for lunch.
yeah, i really was.  until i became the poster child for wounded women everywhere.
is this thing going to effect everything i do for the rest of my life?
where everyone can see me.
i didn't know if it was the fashion or the fact that the four of us were together again -- but for the first time in a long time -- i felt like myself.
and a couple of weeks later -- i met st. louise's st. louis boyfriend, will.
over christmas they realized how much they loved each other. just in time for valentine's day.
hello?
you called an hour too early.
miranda and i are going to dinner and then a really violent slasher movie.
and you?
wow. do you make sushi?
boy, you do have time on your hands.
i think it was like this last year but we played for the other team.
`cause -- i'm an emotional cutter. i deserve what i got. running all over new york believing that i'm finally getting my happy ending. "see everyone, love does conquer all. look at me in my one of a kind wedding gown marrying the love of my life."
and miranda.  in that article -- i did not say "we" once. it was all: "i" want and "i" think.
my point of view.  exactly. the whole wedding was my point of view. i let the wedding get bigger than big. i am the reason he didn't get out of that car.
what do you mean?
i have been going over this and over this in my mind for five months -- and -- for five months you kept a secret like that?
once? you tried to tell me once? you should have tried to tell me every single day!
there is no right time to tell me you ruined my marriage!
and i think what hurts the most is that you kept a secret from me. i have never ever kept a secret from you. ever!
no, i'm lying. for the last five months i've been thinking that it's a huge mistake that you left steve. there. how does it feel?
excuse me!
it was the same valentine night samantha had planned -- minus the sushi.
three days of "i'm sorry" calls and e-mails and flowers -- and i still wasn't ready. it was the longest we'd even gone without speaking.
how long have you been waiting here?
i'm upset.
you know --
no.
you badger me to forgive you in three days -- and you won't even consider forgiving steve for something he did six months ago.
it's forgiveness.
and -- i know you're not the reason my marriage fell apart. i was just - desperate to have someone else to blame.
can you do that?
thinking -- or feeling?
miranda -- you're a lawyer. you can argue both sides of any case -- but, why we feel what we feel -- isn't logical. it's emotional. sorry, harvard -- i'm afraid you're going to have to make this decision based on your emotions.
you will. there will come a moment when you'll know. and if it's: yes - - all that brilliant logic will go out the window.  with the past.
where is it?
very logical. and yet poetic.
and i have two coffees.
what's the other news?
oh my god --
meanwhile, back in lost angeles.
 samantha had money, a career and a man who loved her.  still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing from her life.
with her two weeks just about up, miranda's list of pros and cons were equal.
it suddenly dawned on miranda that steve's list might have had more cons then pros.
and miranda never looked back.
well, almost never.
and at home -- everything felt and looked different -- and yet still very much me.
sorry. this is a very exclusive party.
thanks.
you know her, probably ran to the hotel gym for a quick work-out.
sweetie!
and that rat better be house trained.
no, a belly on anyone else is a "so what?" a belly on samantha is a: "so what the hell is going on?"
never. and when has she ever not talked about every detail regarding her body?
language, please -- this is a grown- up apartment now.
how -- and i say this with love -- how could you not realize it?
why didn't you say something?
now, listen -- this isn't about the weight. you'd be gorgeous at any size. but are you happy?
i'm pretty sure that's to you.
what does your gut tell you?
sweetie.  you just compared your relationship to chemo.
there we were. the three mirrors samantha couldn't avoid.
and samantha?
that pillow cost three hundred dollars.
as someone returned to my life.
 someone left.
what am i gonna do without you?
st. louise, you brought me back to life.
wait -- don't forget your "love."
i'll meet you in st. louis.
now, there were no more distractions. and as i moved on.
 samantha moved in.
hi. congratulations.  a girl!
oh my god. she's gorgeous.
what a beautiful name.
well, i have to say you two are very cool customers -- just making the "baby's here" call without all the "i'm in labor" drama.
very dramatic.
what?
well -- today is not about him. it's about beautiful baby rose. so -- we know she has charlotte's hair -- what else do we know?
she's a doll. mazel tov!
harry -- it's so much more complicated than you can imagine.
he's never written me.
no. he's never written me. ever.
two hours, two manila envelopes and countless emails later, i was just about to give up on the big riddle when --
i had told louise to put big in a place where i would never have to hear from him again.
hey, louise -- it's me. what's the password to get into your assistant file? call me.
shit.
oh my god.
as soon as i typed in "love" -- there he was.
and because big still didn't have the words.  he retyped a love letter from beethoven.
and lord byron.
and james joyce.
and voltaire.
there they were. "the love letters of great men - volume one." plus one more.  written by john james preston.
i wanted to call him - but our love.  carrie and big: volumes one, two, and three.  stopped me.
hello.
no, it's okay i figured it out.
i don't need to go over there.
oh -- i completely forgot about --
it's already five o'clock.
five twenty-five. bye.
taxi!
the light in our pre-war apartment looked completely different post- war.
it wasn't logic -- it was love.
why did we ever decide to get married?
i'm sorry to have done that to you.  and you know the funny part?
we were perfectly happy before we decided to live happily ever after.
good closet.
comfortable. is this what you had in mind when you installed the carpet?
we better get up before the new owner bust in on us.
and in the end.  carrie bradshaw married john james preston in a label-less dress.
perfect. you and me -- like i said.
it wasn't a fancy designer reception either. just food and friends.
maybe some labels are best left in the closet.
 maybe when we put a label on people.  bride, groom, husband, wife, fat, thin, married, single.  we forget to look past the label and see the person.
because everyone else started.
and speaking of an oldie but goodie.
wait -- wait -- a toast.
to samantha.  fifty and fabulous!
to us.  and the next fifty!
and there, in the same city where they met as girls, four new york women entered the next phase of their lives.  dressed head to toe in love.
And that's the one label -- that never goes out of style.