Sex and the Gilded City: Corsets & Cosmos
The Gilded Age meets Sex and the City: Scandal evolves, girl gangs endure.
Have you ever wondered what would happen if you dropped Carrie Bradshaw and her Manolos smack into a Fifth Avenue ballroom circa 1885? Would she be penning her column by gaslight, scribbling about corset rash and forbidden rendezvous? Watching The Gilded Age and Sex and the City back to back (don’t judge me, these shows are my escape hatch from the drama around us!), I realised they’re basically sisters from different centuries – both obsessed with status, scandal, fashion, romance, and that complicated thing called ‘being a woman in New York.’*
So pour yourself a Cosmopolitan (or a cup of tea if you’re feeling Gilded) and let’s unlace the parallels, with some telling data points, because even gossip should have historical receipts.
What They Wore
The Gilded Age (set in the 1880s) was America’s grand coming-out part, think Vanderbilt mansions, Tiffany diamonds, and enough silk to suffocate an entire borough. Women’s waists were cinched to the brink of fainting. One steel corset could compress your waist by 4-6 inches, according to period fashion historians. I just cannot imagine how uncomfortable that must have been for hours at a time.
Fast forward to Sex and the City, and corsets have morphed into bodycon dresses, stiletto heels, and statement tutus. Carrie’s iconic naked dress (you know the one) as Miranda says "It's tits on toast baby!", a line that perfectly sums up Carrie's confidence. Can you imagine Bertha Russell’s reaction to Carrie’s scandalously sheer slip of a dress, flaunting her curves and defying every Gilded Age rule of modesty?
And yet, the goal remains the same: to be seen, to impress, to win the dance of desire. Even if it means gasping for air in a corset during the Gilded Age or tottering home barefoot because your heels betrayed you in SATC.
Love, Lies & Breakups
Back then, you didn’t just date, you married your social status. Bertha Russell’s entire storyline in The Gilded Age hinges on climbing the social ladder one extravagant ball at a time. Scandals, like love children or secret liaisons, could ruin a family for generations. According to historians, divorce rates were just 0.3% in 1880, compared to around 45% today. Back then, you didn’t ‘uncouple’, you endured. Painfully. In this most recent season, when Aurora Fane's husband tells her that he has fallen in love with someone else and wants a divorce, she refuses to grant him one for fear of losing her reputation and being at the receiving end of gossip and judgement. We will see where that takes her, but my prediction is that she is going to be a potential rebel to watch.
Meanwhile, our SATC girls have options. Plenty of them. Miranda juggles Steve and a career in law. Charlotte divorces Trey and finds real love with Harry. Samantha is the patron saint of unapologetic sexual pleasure with a myriad of sexy men. Scandalous, liberating, entertaining and exhausting! Plus, let’s not forget the openly gay characters and storylines in SATC — like Stanford and Anthony — which would have been unthinkable in Gilded Age society, adding another layer to the gossip and scandal. Gay men in the 1880s had to hide who they were completely, secret relationships (like Oscar van Rhijn's lovers tryst that got him beaten up), coded letters, and private clubs were the only way to avoid ruin or even jail.
Menfolk
In The Gilded Age, men are stoic financiers, railroad tycoons, or husbands guarding family reputation, like George Russell’s ruthless ambition. In SATC, the men are an endless carousel: Big, Aidan, Steve, flawed, charming, disappointing, swoon-worthy, showing how dating evolved from rigid courtship to commitment-phobic brunch dates.
Gilded Age men wore stiff suits and top hats, exuded control and patriarchal power, and treated women like property to be managed. It was all smoking cigars in gentlemen’s clubs and closing deals behind closed doors. In contrast, SATC’s men range from chivalrous to commitment-shy, but they’re not the sole gatekeepers of status anymore. They wear casual suits, leather jackets, and they often get called out for bad behaviour. Yes, the boys’ club still exists, but Carrie’s laptop makes sure we know all about it.
Oh and one last thing I need to add. Remember how Carrie once got dumped by Berger on a Post-it note? Meanwhile, poor Marian Brook in The Gilded Age faced heartbreak with polite letters and public whispers that could ruin her entire standing. Breakups then and now? Equally savage and painful, just different stationery and handwriting.
Whisper Networks
In The Gilded Age, one misstep and you’d be banished from polite society faster than you could say ‘Mrs. Astor’s Four Hundred', a nickname for the exclusive list of 400 people Mrs. Astor deemed acceptable in New York high society. Newspapers, letters, and word of mouth were the TikTok of the time, except you couldn’t block your nosy aunt.
Sex and the City simply updated the medium: Carrie’s clunky laptop and flip phone turned private escapades into public musings, fast-forward to today, when smartphones and social media have made it instant. One lover’s tiff over brunch and your messy love life might end up splashed all over gossip sites and celebrity rags before your Bloody Mary even land. A juicy scandal always finds its audience, the technology just keeps evolving.
Women on the Rise
Here’s the heart of it: both shows are about women finding power in a world that wants to tell them who they should be. In the 1880s, a woman’s worth was her marriageability, her dowry, her manners, her connections. Marian Brook wants to break free, be more independent and get a job, but Aunt Agnes and the rest of society are always lurking, glasses in hand, ready to squash her spirit.
In the late 90s and early 2000s, our SATC ladies gave us a new blueprint. Friendship first, men second (usually). According to a 2023 survey by Bumble, 58% of single women today say they’d rather be single than settle, a figure that would have made Aunt Agnes drop her teacup.
NYC, Always the Main Character
Whether it’s the gilded mansions of Fifth Avenue or the grungy walk-ups of the West Village, New York is always the main character. She’s glamorous, gritty, unforgiving, and always, always evolving. Edith Wharton once wrote that old New York was ‘a hieroglyphic world where the real thing was never said or done or even thought, but only represented by a set of arbitrary signs.’ Carrie Bradshaw just turned those signs into zippy one-liners about sex, shoes, and heartbreak.
“I like my money right where I can see it… hanging in my closet” or
“I couldn’t help but wonder…”.
They’re the soundbites that made us all want to be the heroine of our own city story. And if I am honest, the inspiration for this whole M.A.M Diaries experiment.
In the 1880s, New York was a maze of rigid social rules, horse-drawn carriages, and grand mansions for the elite few; by the 2000s, it’s taxis, skyscrapers, and tiny rent-controlled apartments, but the promise of reinvention, gossip, and ambition stays exactly the same.
What It All Means
History repeats itself, just with different accessories.
We may no longer faint into couches because our corset is too tight (though Spanx after a boozy brunch comes close, I am told). We’re not sneaking telegrams to forbidden lovers, we’re subtweeting & texting them. But the heart wants what it wants, and the gossip rags still want what they’ve always wanted: the scandal that sells.
So here’s to girl gangs through the ages. I’m endlessly grateful for mine, you know exactly who you are, my brilliantly fun Girl Tribes who’ve cheered me through heartbreaks, wins, messy dramas, and all the tears & laughter (sometimes both at the same time) in between. Our regular meet-ups are my sanity-savers and my joy boosters.
And to New York, still the best city to lose your head, your heart, your corset, and probably your wallet if you’re not careful. (I’m not about that corset life, just FYI.) And really, who among us hasn’t wondered how Carrie swung designer everything on a columnist’s pay? Or how the Russells managed an army of help and mountains of satin? But that’s the fun, right? The fantasy sweeps us up — hook, line, and Manolo heel.er.
Final Data Points for the Curious:
Divorce rates: 0.3% in 1880 vs. ~45% today (US Census)
Average modern NYC rent: up 70% since SATC’s premiere in 1998 (StreetEasy) — not even Carrie’s rent-controlled apartment could save her now.
Women make up nearly 50% of the NYC workforce today, compared to 15% in the 1880s (US Dept. of Labor)
The Met Gala, modern society’s answer to the Astor Ball, generates over 1 billion media impressions each year.
And Just Like That (the SATC sequel)… scored just 48% on Rotten Tomatoes, compared to Sex and the City’s original 70%, proving some Manolos are best left in the past. That said, I still indulge and enjoy it. Poor, poor Carrie, still hanging on to Aiden who is dragging her along....Bertha Russell would not stand for it!
If this wasn’t long enough for you, I have commentary on other trash I enjoy watching:
So smart, funny, cheeky. Loved this: "let’s unlace the parallels." Not exactly germane to your piece, but there was a brothel on every block in 80s London. Not that I can testify.
No corsets, no spanx, no Manolo stilettos... and still somehow I found a man. Just to be safe though, I'll make sure we never buy a Peloton.