Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha strut onto big screens this Friday not just in New York City but in metropoli all over the country. All of you Sex and the City fans know that the fifth character in the HBO series was not Aidan or Stanford or Steve or even Mr. Big- no, that most important player was the Big Apple itself. There is no sex without The City.

Or is there? What if you took away the character of Manhattan and replaced it with, say, Seattle? Would the show have been so different? Pour yourself a cosmopolitan (or better yet, have your man-toy do it) and relax into the world of Sex and the City: Seattle Style:

  • Miranda is a lawyer for Boeing who lives in Belltown and regularly bitches to the city about the crackheads and prostitutes on her street. Luckily for Miss Smarty-Pants there are plenty of well-read men with frayed library cards in this town to keep up with her in conversation- though no one on earth can match her knifelike wit, propelled by the fine forces of cynicism and sarcasm. Miranda’s favorite club? The see-and-be-seen venue of conspicuous consumption Club Venom, of course.
  • Charlotte arranges exhibits at the Seattle Art Museum and does charity work for singles’ group Space City Mixer, a group who she considers in need of charity indeed. This unapologetic yuppie lives on uppity Mercer Island and spends her evenings online ordering designer clothes and hanging out with metrosexuals at The Last Supper Club in Pioneer Square.
  • Samantha handles PR for Microsoft, giving her plenty of opportunities to play with rich men. Though she works in Redmond, she would never live in a place as sterile and un-hip as the Eastside and instead has purchased a new and fancy condo in the grittiest, most interesting neighborhood in Seattle: Capitol Hill. Samantha fits in well with the flavor and color of the quarter and gives as good as she gets with the street kids, buskers, and bums. She relaxes with her favorite bunch of people at The Cuff Complex.
  • Carrie writes a sex column for the Seattle Weekly which is giving Savage Love a run for its money for the naughtiest, dirtiest, and best love and sex column in the country; ‘Date Girl” now writes for a more appropriate publication, Teen Magazine. Carrie lives in Fremont and shops at all the annoying chi-chi boutiques, somehow buying $200 teeshirts and $500 purses on a writer’s salary. She hangs out where all the hot guys in Fremont are: the Nectar Lounge, of course.

The four women meet for Sunday brunch at Julia’s in Wallingford, wearing not Manolo Blahniks but Tevas with rolled-up jeans (acceptable fashion in the rainy city- admit it, you’ve done it); drinking double espressos and diving into plates of Eggs Benedict (they don’t have to starve themselves quite so much outside of NYC).

For a long weekend the girls vacation not in the Hamptons but in Hawaii, which is the closest and most accessible beach to Seattle (and by most accessible I mean you can actually swim in the water, not that our four heroines would dream of doing so). There is no strolling with beaus in Central Park for Carrie, only walking around Green Lake- and she’d better walk, not meander, or the rollerbladers/runners/multi-tasking women jogging with a double stroller and two large dogs while talking on the phone will run her ass over.

So who do these alpha-women date? It’s a little harder in the Emerald City where most men hale from the Land of Passive-Aggressiva; there are no eager stockbrokers here, no modelizers, no models, and no tycoons of any sort, save the software brains and Boeing boys. Our girls are left with:

  • Mr. Bike-to-Work Guy: With skin-tight duds and shaved legs, he often gets asked the question, “Do you really need an all-spandex outfit to ride from Wallingford to Queen Anne?” The answer is always NO, people, and Miranda lets him know it, before rolling her eyes and moving on.
  • The Outdoorsman: Bad news for Carrie and her hatred of squirrels which are “just rats in cuter outfits,” because all over Seattle you find this R.E.I. gear-wearing, head-to-Tiger-Mountain-after-work, long weekend on the Peninsula, boat-loving guy who rarely brushes his hair, and despite herself, Carrie can’t get enough. Hope she has waterproof gear for the spring nights spent in the Cascades.
  • The Rocker: Found all over the streets of Seattle, the musician is passionate, a little dirty, preoccupied with his band but prone to grand romantic gestures. Charlotte is a goner for this type, until she realizes he has gestured romantically for half the females in the city.
  • Mr. No-Balls: He epitomizes the saying, “He’s just not that into you,” because he’s just not into anything- living is a bit risky, after all. He is eaten alive by Samantha before he opens his mouth. One lost, 200,000 to go. Good thing she is hungry.
  • The DJ: A species almost as numerous as The Rocker in Seattle, the spin-master lives the conundrum which Carrie must use all of her journalistic training and wicked flirting skills to figure out: all the DJs are man-whores, yet all the DJs have girlfriends. Carrie susses the mystery out, and the answer is not pretty.
  • The Hipster: Recognizable by his tight black jeans, chunky silver jewelry, perfectly beaten-up skate shoes and hair mussed just so over the right eye, the hipster is too cool to care about anything really, except himself. Is it possible that the hipster is just an emo who is too old to be an emo anymore? Discuss amongst yourselves, at brunch.

So there you have it; Sex in the City Seattle Style is a little bit the same, and a whole lot different. To really understand the women we must walk a block in their Choos; don’t miss the movie Sex and the City, opening all over the area on Friday, and on Thursday at midnight at select venues like the Regal Meridian 16 in downtown Seattle, Lincoln Square Cinema in Bellevue, and AMC Loews Alderwood Mall 16 up north.

Will the movie be any good? Abso-F*cking-Lutely.

Read my review of Sex and the City the Movie here.

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