On October 6, 2008 Candace Bushnell, author of Sex and the City, social anthropologist, regularly compared to the morally contemplative Edith Wharton, and of course, a lover of great shoes, entertained the fancy-footed, fashion fanatics at the Margaret Mitchell House in midtown Atlanta.
The MC, Mara Davis (an Atlantan favorite on the airwaves), exclaimed, “Who came here tonight hoping that Candace Bushnell would notice your great shoes?” An accumulative smile spread across the audience’s face.
As Candace chicly made her way across the stage, she smiled to the audience, “Yes. I’ve seen some great shoes tonight.”
She discussed her new novel, One Fifth Avenue, described her fabulous characters, and then opened the floor for a flood of fem-driven questions.
“See, you had to have been in New York in the 1980s. The fem movement of the ’70s had caused a great influx of women in the workforce; women’s salaries were exceeding males’ upwards to 15 percent; and we swore that studies showed there was a great deficit of great men in the city.”
Carrie Bradshaw, Victory Ford, and countless other lovable characters of Candace Bushnell have provided ample social anthropological evidence that the career twenty-somethings, thirty-somethings, and even forty-somethings have remained unmarried, not because they are bad women or unmarriageable, but because of their success.
“You had to have your girlfriends,” Candace insisted. “Especially in a time when women felt so isolated by their careers.”
“What advice do you have for young writers?” a small but powerful voice came from the stiletto-heeled woman in the back.
Candace thought a moment. “There is no secret. Everyone knows that. Every writer has their own voice, and that must be fostered.” She paused as if to move on but then concluded, “You just have to do you.”
As I drove home that night, the Candace in my mind gently encouraged, “You have to do the career. You have to dream. But most of all you have to do you.”
