The Carrie Bradshaw Myth

Carrie Bradshaw (hallowed be thy name) has a lot to answer for.

The image of her sitting in front of her Apple Mac in a characteristically fabulous ensemble, puffing on a cigarette as she types a few words and then pauses for a sip of her Cosmo or a dab of lip-gloss, is printed indelibly on my brain.

It is my belief that Sex & the City has perpetuated a seductive and, sadly, wholly unobtainable myth about journalism.

Carrie is allegedly a columnist for the New York Star, a weekly tabloid paper. I say allegedly, because we never really see her doing any journalistic work. Instead she swans around New York in her designer garms in a flurry of bars, clubs, restaurants, cafes, shops and sequins. I haven't even factored in the time she spends between the sheets!

Yes, there are occasional, token shots of her tapping away at the keyboard but judging by these, and taking into account the sheer amount of time she spends discussing penises (both literal and metaphorical) with her gaggle of gals, Carrie’s work productivity rate must average at about fifteen sentences a month. And that’s when Big is out of town.

Now, according to one guide to journalism rates of pay, produced by the NUJ, http://www.londonfreelance.org/rates/w1000new.html, a writer in Carrie's position could earn around £500-£600 per feature - but that's based on 1000 words and I'm guessing Carrie doesn't get that many words in her little tabloid column. So that means earnings of less than £500 per week.

Yet Carrie can somehow afford to pay for her Manhattan apartment, eat (and drink) out all the time and feed her Manolo Blahnik addiction, shoes which, according to my research, can cost anything from $555 to $14,000 (£374 - a whopping £9438.00) PER PAIR! My maths has always been a little dodgy but it's clear even to me that these figures just don’t add up.

And the worst thing is that the industry itself perpetuates this myth. Whenever I get all Carrie Bradshaw-esque (and I have seen and heard others doing the same thing, citing her as an inspiration for entering journalism) I take a swift reality check.

But look at this advertisement for a job application I saw recently:

Do you see yourself as the next Carrie Bradshaw with a career in journalism? Is fashion your passion and going out something you love to discuss? Let us help you take that first step up the ladder.

Sadly, despite my efforts at becoming the next Carrie, the ladder's first step proved highly elusive (I am suppressing the obvious and bad Manolo joke that comes to mind here).

So, potential employers, stop lying to us - you can't turn us into Carrie or give us her fabulous life. And fellow journalists, stop lying to yourselves too! Journalism is hard graft, often monotonous and highly unlikely to lead to a Manhattan apartment or a wardrobe full of designer garms.

But, every now and then, you may get to use and abuse your press credentials to worm your way into swanky press events (particularly if X-Box are hosting the event), you will meet a bevvy of interesting characters (maybe even some good-looking eligibles) and you will have a lot of fun along the way. I'll raise a Cosmo to that, Big or no Big.