We Need to Talk About Miranda
This article contains mild spoilers through the final episode of And Just Like That.
With the debut season of , we really did have it all, at least if you understand “all” to be public vomiting, kitchen fingerbangs, podcasts with “woke moment” buttons, flash periods, and a sherbet-colored couture Valentino gown that made me think of Princess Diana’s wedding dress covered in Tropicana. The show was strange, for sure. There were highs (Seema, the glamour-puss real-estate agent; Charlotte dealing with her ) and lows (Carrie’s vexed boss, Che; the episode-long subplot about an apartment beep). I watched it every week, which is more than I can say for lots of other television series. But I still haven’t quite processed what the show
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