Sex and the City 2: The Verdict

Don't get me wrong. I love Sex and the City as much as anyone. I've longed for Manolos and bad men with the best of them, fetishised NYC and a gay BFF. I've even cut my hair Carrie style.

Which is why I so nervously anticipated the release of SATC 2, the second in a franchise that's become a distributor's wet dream. Unfortunately, just as Carrie tells Big they need to rediscover their 'sparkle' in the first half of the film, I found myself wanting a little... more.

Sure, the fashion and friendships there, but the quips are laboured and the great feminist dream that the girls used to embody seems to have become at best a hollow caricature. I am Woman sung at karaoke? Miranda making her life mission one of Spanx? Really?

The best thing about SATC, the series, was the substance that came with the style. Now, we have plenty of style (cue ballgowns in souks and vintage Valentino worn to bake cupcakes) but now it just seems, well, silly. While the rest of us dealt with a recession, the girls have retreated further into the land of aspiration. Does it render our ladies irrelevant?

Maybe it's time for them to hang up their heels. We need a new fearsome foursome to fill their Louboutins, but for now, I'm happy watching re-runs.

Who do you think will fill Sex and the City's shoes?