Before Carrie and Aidan’s inevitable implosion, Aidan surprises her with an extended stay because his son Wyatt doesn’t want to live with him anymore. Romantic? Carrie is excited but somewhat inconvenienced because his visit now has to work around her writing sessions with Downstairs Duncan, who is, again, writing a biography about Thatcher. But that isn’t the only way Aidan is disruptive. Carrie is furious that he introduces himself to Duncan and offers to cook him dinner. Convinced his intrusion stems from her past liaison with Big (ding! ding! ding!) Carrie vents to Seema about Aidan’s trust issues. Seema offers the prudent suggestion of bringing it up with Aidan, and because that would make sense, Carrie scrunches her nose in disapproval.
If I were one of Carrie’s friends, I’d be pretty over her not taking an iota of advice over the decades. But Seema has good reason not to really give a damn about Carrie’s poor judgment because she’s still getting her armpit eaten out on the reg by hot gardener Adam. While that isn’t a kink that speaks to me, I am really enjoying the specificity of it. It’s hot. It’s stinky. Adam is really trying to get Seema to wear natural crystal deodorant, and as a woman who dated enough long-haired boys in skinny jeans in Bushwick in her twenties, I feel very seen and very smelled. I’m invested in where this mismatched romance ends up. Crossing my fingers that Seema makes a visit to Adam’s apartment and has a real estate-related nervous breakdown.
Speaking of breakdowns, Charlotte and Harry’s bodies are respectively breaking down and building back up. She’s still in the throes of vertigo, and he’s recovering from his surgery. Despite their ailments, they’re still the most chipper couple on the Upper East Side. Herbet, however, isn’t nearly as chipper and has seemingly been stress-eating his way through his campaign and lashing out at his teenage son by calling him “cheese boy.” Lisa Todd Wexley keeps suggesting he go on Ozempic “like everybody else.”
In the weakest plot line of the episode, Miranda finally tells Joy that she’s an alcoholic, and for a brief moment, I thought Joy was going to break up with her. But she doesn’t and they have a vague discussion about emotional baggage. Writers, take a cue from Adam’s armpit obsession — give me weird details! This relationship, while inarguably lovely and Che-free, is dull. A little less dull, but similarly tedious, is Anthony’s dinner with his mother-in-law, Gia. Over a home-cooked meal, Gia drops the Italian accent and threatens him to “get your old man ass out of my baby’s life.” Unfortunately for Anthony, I sort of agree with her. Not because of the age gap, but because I’ve never bought him and Giuseppe’s relationship.
But back to the primary relationship that needs to (and does!!!) end: Carrie and Aidan. In an attempt to smooth things over, they meet up at a restaurant where Aidan admits he has trouble trusting Carrie. Carrie takes issue with his verb tense of choice: “have” instead of “had.” I take issue with the fact that just a few episodes ago Carrie sort of insinuated that the two of them weren’t monogamous, plus she has been flirting with Duncan, and here she is acting like the most devoted girlfriend in the world. After some sidewalk dramatics, the two declare themselves has-beens, aka their relationship is now in the past tense. Good riddance. Adieu Aidan.
I hope this leads to Carrie going on some more chaotic and fun dates. Finding her own armpit fetishist? Perhaps someone who’s into her shoe collection? Or maybe she’ll strike up something with Duncan. I do think a boyfriend who lives in a separate apartment in her building would actually be her ideal scenario. What it definitely does lead to is a montage of the gals meeting for dinner set to Taylor Swift’s “How Did It End,” and while I’m not even a Swiftie, it is my new favorite song, as I’ll now forever associate it with this glorious episode.
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