My daughters are now twenty something women with whom I carry on analytical conversations about all sorts of things, including relationships, which is what they are naturally focused on given their age (one might argue that I should be focusing them on their career, but that's quite another matter, and besides, I sense that their father is playing that role).
When my children were very young I remember watching "Absolutely Fabulous" as a form of comic relief from all the seriousness of parenting. If one didn't take parenting seriously, well, there had to be something seriously wrong with you.
Complaining about how tough it was to be both a parent and a member of the labor force was not something we did back in the 1990s. We were going to do it all, and women like Jane Pauley ("The Today Show") with her twins and her cartoonist husband were role models (continuing the list, another woman who comes to mind is Tina Brown of "Vanity Fair"). If there was a nanny, nobody mentioned her. Those of us without a nanny toughed it out, sleep deprived, shlepping our children to their after-school activities, making our schedules work.
Now there are shows with mothers pushing strollers into cafes, and leaving their babies at home with dad while they go out with their birth class friends and drink themselves into a tizzy. There is also "Fleabag" which features two young women who do not have biological children, and that's fine. This world is not an easy one to bring children into.
Olivia Colman, fabulous by the way, plays the stepmom, another timeless character who hasn't gone out of style either.
In the midst of all these women I wonder how my daughters navigate through all these pop cultural role models. One phase of life at a time.
What phase of life am I in and why am focusing my attention on young women, with or without children? I sense that part of the reason is one mentioned earlier, namely that in the 90s, when I was struggling with the job and the children, I was definitely not wheeling my little ones into cafes, or leaving them at home with dad while I cavorted with my mates. Dad was gone a lot for work, and I was tired.
Catharsis is a big part of the joy and the attraction to these series. I also get a kick out of watching Canadian, British and Australian women and some men be culturally specific, while I sit in my American home. I'm not able to watch American series, mainly because all the actresses have the same pin and tuck on their faces, and they live in way too posh homes. I am not interested in their problems, sorry.
I am armchair (bed is more like it, I am actually writing this post from the comfort of my bed) drinking, coffee, wine, whatever, and enjoying these shows. I thank Patsy and Edina for setting us on the course of a little self-indulgence, because, quite frankly, thirty years later, we are still complaining mainly because we still have a lot to complain about. I don't need to explain why.
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