Lisa Mayoh: Sadly for Carrie tragics, And Just Like That ... has become an overly PC snoozefest

I enthusiastically signed up a new streamer to see what my old Sex And The City friends were up to — but I shouldn’t have wasted my time, writes Lisa Mayoh.

And just like that … my love of Sex and The City has run its course. As a 96-episode, two-movie SATC tragic, I signed up to new streamer Max to see what all my old friends have been up to. Turns out, I shouldn’t have wasted my time.

It KILLS me to say it but, hey, it’s not like Sarah Jessica Parker watches, so why should I? (True story. Weird, but true).

The fact is, new season Carrie Bradshaw is boring. Miranda is weird. Charlotte is … just too Charlotte. The new Lisa is great – but she’s no Samantha. Big is gone. Aidan is cringey, and the whole thing is quite depressing, disguised in a high fashion bow tied just so … tricking us into feeling fulfilled.

But I’m not. Are you? They may have aged (some more gracefully than others), but the ladies aren’t as wise as I want them to be at this point in their lives.

Carrie is still asking her friends to go on work trips with her, only to ditch them for the men in her life (men who, decades later, still aren’t putting her first).

Carrie may have aged but she and her sisters aren’t as wise as I want them to be at this point in their lives. Picture: Binge/HBO Max

She’s still drafting texts and deleting them, unsure of her voice – or not brave enough to use it. Our 15-year-olds have more guts than that these days.

Our new lesbian Miranda is trying it on with whoever comes into camera shot and Charlotte realises that working hard and being a parent is … wait for it … hard.

Kristin Davis, Sarah Jessica Parker and Cynthia Nixon on the set of And Just Like That ... Despite life-altering divorces and deaths, and being estranged from a best friend you once called a sister, there’s just no depth. Picture: James Devaney/GC Images

Nothing has evolved, despite life-altering divorces and deaths, and being estranged from a best friend you once called a sister. Despite it all, there’s just no depth. No soul.

It’s like having dinner with girlfriends. There’s nothing worse than getting just the highlight reel – I could have scrolled through Insta if I wanted that. Give me the good bits. The hard bits. The ‘my-husband-is-annoying-and-my-teenager-hates-my-guts-and-what-am-I-doing-with-my-life’ moments in time we all go through.

As Teresa Palmer told me recently, when it comes to friendship, she goes deep – and she goes deep fast. Let’s heal that childhood trauma and fix that problem that’s bigger in your head than it should be because you haven’t spoken to anyone about it. Yet.

Carrie’s got trauma. She’s a widow whose boyfriend lives in another state and calling the shots – and instead of writing about real life like she always has, she’s struck inspiration from the olden days, when women suffered through generations dominated by men. Yawn.

We want more. I wanted every episode to make me feel like I’d just had one of those midweek girl dinners we were all too tired for – but that changed our week, month, lives. Uplifted us, bonded us. Helped us feel like we’re not the only ones drowning in kids and footy boots and the ever elusive run-free navy tights that always seem to be missing when a late child needs them the most.

It was never ‘just’ Sex and The City for us Carrie tragics. It was community. A sisterhood. It brought us together. And just like that … I feel sad that it’s an overly PC snoozefest. So Max, you’ve won the first month subscription war (ads and all – why are we seeing ads?!) – but the honeymoon’s over. Well, as soon as we finish the Last of Us – I know I’m late to the zombie end-of-the-world party but I’m hooked.

I couldn’t help but wonder … maybe SATC needs to be shelved, like Carrie’s last season Louboutins?