Day 20: The Man vs. the Myth

I'm calling this one, "Street Cat,” because it radiates chicness. I love white jeans. Ironically, I don’t actually own a pair. I own white capris from a zillion years ago, but I reserve them for beach vacations, which I don’t often take. I have never quite worked up the courage to spend the money on a nice-fitting pair of white jeans for fear of them getting ruined quickly. It is some law of nature that the moment you invest in an expensive piece of anything, you better guard it with your life. If you don’t, it will no doubt end up with a tear, stain, frayed from the dog chewing it, or will suddenly disappear within three months. Guaranteed. I am convinced that the only reason my Louis Vuitton clutch has lasted six years of everyday use is that for the first four of those, I had no idea how valuable it was. Otherwise, I’m sure I would have dropped it down a storm drain. This year, I am resolved to buying white jeans. I will wear them all year round, paying no heed to the “no white after Labor Day” rule. I will spend ten minutes each laundry day making sure all the stains are addressed, but it will be worth it. Why? Cause they’re cool.

This is one of my favorite ensembles so far. As I was choosing it, the leather coat seemed an obvious partner to the tank and jeans. But then I had an “Aha!” moment. What if I stuck something else under the jacket to give it a little pizzazz? I love the result and wish I could lift the pictures from the page and put the clothes into my wardrobe for tomorrow. I'd wear the coat and button-up open, in order to show off the necklace. If it gets too warm, ditch the coat and roll up the sleeve of the shirt. Voila! Instant style with attitude. And of course, here is my $1,800 LV dream bag in another ensemble…Love that Louis.

So, today’s episode also happens to be one of my favorites. It strikes a personal chord. It's the first time Miranda meets Steve, and it reminds me of when I met Hank. It's also the first time we see Miranda respond emotionally to a man. Steve somehow breaks through all her barriers, convincing her that he’s not like other guys, and the result is a beautiful, tear-filled kiss in the rain and a promise to move forward together. (Sigh....)

This episode also happens to be one of Hank’s favorites for similar reasons. He loves Steve, and he says Miranda reminds him of how I was before we met—jaded, defensive, scared to believe in the great man who was suddenly in my life. Like Steve, Hank had to do a lot of convincing. When we talked about the episode last night, Hank asked what I was going to write about. He suggested talking about how awful my relationships were before him, and how everything was perfect once he came along. I reminded him that that wouldn’t be interesting for anyone to read but us. Instead, I’m going to write about “urban relationship myths,” a term Miranda coins before Steve comes into the picture.

First, a synopsis: Carrie and Big are peachy. He’s making all the romantic gestures of a man in love, proudly calling her his girlfriend and singing to her in a restaurant (fully sober and in front of about 50 people). Gotta love a man who sings. Carrie decides to “test” him (of course she does) by inviting him to dinner with the gang. He agrees, but backs out at the last minute, leaving her to meet her friends alone. Just when she’s about to tell her posse that Big isn't coming and that he's just the same old commitment phobe he's always been, he shows up. All good feelings and faiths are restored. Samantha, after meeting a charming old—very old, like 72 old—millionaire, tries the gold-digger approach to dating. After receiving loads of diamond jewelry and getting awfully close to doing the deed, she gets a peek at his sagging ass and bolts—keeping the jewelry of course. And Charlotte, who I think it’s now safe to say has the worst dating luck of the four, actually doesn’t date anyone this episode.

So, dating myths. The girls have a great time discussing what later became the topic of an entire movie called He's Just Not That Into You. For those of you who haven't seen it (I'm sure most of you have), the premise is that women create myths about romantic situations that give them false hope when faced with the real dating world. According to this theory, Disney movies about princes rescuing young ladies when all the world leaves them to die; the tale of the lonely woman who finally meets her dream man on a blind date; and finally, the story of the married man who leaves his wife for his mistress and lives happily after all belong to the "urban relationship myth" category.

While I think that there's something to this theory (Let's face it, most married men don't leave their wives for their mistresses, nor should they really), I also think there's a good case for romantic stories being true. I mean, every relationship has a romantic beginning, right? We all have to meet our partner somehow, and how can that story not be the stuff of romantic "myths"?

Take the show. Carrie meets Big through a series of chance encounters. First, she drops her purse, and he helps her pick up the contents. Then, they see each other at a party, then an art show, then a cafe and so on. Eventually they figure out that they're supposed to talk, then supposed to date, then maybe supposed to fall in love. Take it from me, if you accidentally run into anyone more than three times in NYC, it's practically meant to be. So that give credence to two"myths"--first, that you can meet your soulmate by chance, and second, that friendship can turn into love.

Then there's Miranda. What's more romantic than this: a cynical, career woman arrives at a pub for a dinner date with her friend, but the friend never shows up. The barman sees that she could use a mood booster, so he buys her a drink and begs her to stay and talk a bit. They hit it off. Later, they go home together, and she learns that not only is he amazing in bed, but he's also sensitive and caring and really, truly likes her to boot. A relationship is formed, and another urban myth is verified--the one that says a one night stand can turn into love.

Now, take real life. One of my former employers makes wedding cakes for a living. After over ten years in the business, this independent, sharp, thirty-year-old had seen her fair share of bad matches and crazy brides and had decided that all that lovey-dovey stuff was probably a bunch of crap. For over a year, I listened to her flaunt an I'm-way-above-falling-in-love attitude regarding men and romance. Maybe you can see where this is going. One day at work, she said she was going on a blind date that evening, arranged by her friends. It was probably going to be silly, and she had little hope. However, at least it would be interesting. She had never been set up before. The next day, she was glowing. It had gone really well; she liked him. Two months later, she had dropped ten pounds and said she was in love. Six months later, the woman who swore she would never have a wedding announced she was getting married. She was making her own cake. I kid you not.

Another friend, Jill, met her husband, Ron, on a summer fire-fighting crew. He was seeing someone else at the time but became so interested in Jill, that he immediately dropped his girlfriend. Since they lived in different states, Ron and Jill started a long-distance relationship. After two years, he secretly flew to the town where she went to school and proposed to her in the middle of one of her nursing classes (we're talking hundreds of people here, folks). I made their cake.

And then there's Hank and I. Like Miranda and Steve, we met in a bar and didn't know that what we had would turn into a relationship. Unlike them, we didn't meet by chance. We were set up. However, since we lived in different cities, the coincidence of us being at the same place on the only night we would have been able to meet was pretty weird. I, the fire-cracker who always said she would never date a younger man, fell for a guy three years younger than me. Hank, the science guy, who had accepted the fact that he would never find a woman he could talk to and was prepared to leave for med school completely alone, found the girl of his dreams and took her with him when he left. It happens, people.

So, are there really myths? Or is a myth a romantic story that just hasn't happened to you yet? That's for each person to decide. But even if you don't believe in tales of lovers meeting and connecting despite all worldly forces, it doesn't matter. That's the great thing about romantic stories: you don't have to believe in them for them to come true.

I hope you'll be back. I will.