Sarah Jessica Parker is known for playing the fashionable character Carrie Bradshaw in the HBO show “Sex and the City.” However, the “Footloose” star often faces criticism for her real-life fashion choices.
Sarah Jessica Parker is famous for playing the stylish Carrie Bradshaw on the HBO show “Sex and the City.” During her time on the show, she became a fashion icon, inspiring women all over the world with her glamorous looks.
Many women looked up to her as a trendsetter, using fashion to express themselves and their feelings. However, in real life, Parker has never been as passionate about fashion. In a 2012 interview with People, she said that she doesn’t relate to her character’s fashion sense. She explained:
“It’s not how I think of myself, and I think it’s probably the healthier approach.”
Parker likes nice clothes and beautiful things, but you won’t catch her in a tutu at the grocery store. She believes that fashion takes a backseat to life, especially since she has three kids. She stated:
“It’s just not a reality — not when you have three kids, and you go to the market, and there are hungry people at home. You have a limited time to do it. There’s just no time to let vanity enter into that.”
People have often noticed her style choices. In an interview with Vogue, she mentioned that she finds it funny when people criticize her looks.
Over the years, she has faced backlash for her fashion choices, including a much-discussed outfit at the Met Gala. Parker said that people borrow styles that resonate with them at different times, but some will always dislike them. She doesn’t understand why people criticize her choices. “So, what’s the point of the criticism?” she asked.
Parker has learned to ignore her critics. For her everyday outfits, she chooses what she likes without worrying too much about whether it matches.
“Unsexiest Woman Alive”
Parker also faced tough times when Maxim magazine named her “Unsexiest Woman Alive” because she doesn’t fit certain beauty standards, like getting Botox or having fuller lips. She felt that this title was harsh and hurtful, affecting her and her husband, actor Matthew Broderick.
Things got worse when paparazzi took unflattering pictures of Parker having lunch with TV host Andy Cohen. She was makeup-free with her gray hair showing, leading to negative comments about her age. Cohen defended her, pointing out that he has gray hair too and called the comments “misogynistic.”
Parker did not stay quiet about the criticism. During an interview with Vogue, she spoke about how people seem to enjoy seeing others struggle with aging. She said:
“It almost feels as if people don’t want us to be perfectly OK with where we are, as if they almost enjoy us being pained by who we are today.”
She added, “I know what I look like. I have no choice. What am I going to do about it? Stop aging? Disappear?”
However, this was not the last of the harsh comments. In 2018, she faced ridicule again after wearing an ornate headpiece to the Met Gala. People mocked her looks online, calling her a senior citizen.
In June 2023, during a chat with Howard Stern, she discussed Hollywood’s obsession with cosmetic surgery and aging. When asked how she views herself, she said, “I’m presentable,” but added that she doesn’t enjoy looking in the mirror. She acknowledged that she thinks about cosmetic procedures but has never had plastic surgery, although she has tried skin treatments like peels.
Parker reflected on potentially getting a facelift at 44 but was uncertain about it. Stern expressed relief that she hadn’t gone through with it. She understands why some people choose procedures but knows that there is societal pressure about aging. She recalled the viral photo with Cohen, where people criticized her but ignored his gray hair.
Now in her late 50s, Parker remains unbothered by her critics and has clear thoughts on aging. She said in an August 2023 interview:
“I just don’t spend that much time [thinking about appearance]. It’s not that I don’t have an ego, that I don’t have a decent, healthy amount of vanity, but I just don’t want to spend that much time really deconstructing it all.”
Choosing Family over Fashion
Despite facing criticism over her fashion choices, Parker prioritizes her family. During New York Fashion Week in 2006, while others rushed to find the perfect outfits, she chose to stay home with her family. Her son James had just started school, and she wanted to be there for him.
Now, attending events is challenging since she has three kids. She and Broderick welcomed their first child, James Wilkie, on October 28, 2002, and he is now a student at Brown University. Their twins, Tabitha and Marion, were born on June 23, 2009, through a surrogate.
Though some fans criticize her, Broderick remains supportive. He often praises Parker’s beauty and feels lucky to be with her.
They married in a surprise ceremony on May 19, 1997, and have been happy ever since. Parker mentioned that their relationship thrives because they spend time apart and then come back together. She said on a podcast:
“I know this sounds nuts, but we have lives that allow us to be away and come back together.”
Broderick often shares how much he admires Parker, recalling their first date and how he remembers her clearly walking toward him.
Despite the negative comments and criticism, Parker feels secure in her relationship, partly due to Broderick’s constant support. He calls her “just a great, beautiful, hilarious person!”
A Family Forgot Their Wealthy Grandpa at a Gas Station on His Birthday — The Next Day, His Lawyer Called Them
On his 73rd birthday, Lennox treated his family to a lavish beach trip, only to be ignored, dismissed, and forgotten — literally! They left him at a gas station on the drive home. But the family learned the cost of their callous behavior when Lennox’s lawyer called them the next day.
I turned 73 last Tuesday. Most men my age would be proud. I’d transformed my grandfather’s humble construction company into a sprawling empire that stretched across three states.
A man seated alone at a dining table | Source: Midjourney
But what good was any of it when I sat alone at my mahogany dining table, staring at a cake with no one to share it?
I had called my son Gregory, my daughter Caroline, their spouses, and all five of my grandchildren to invite them to celebrate my birthday.
All of them had answered with excuses; they were too busy to spend one evening with me.
A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
I sat in my study later that night, nursing a glass of scotch, when an idea struck me.
Money. It had always been the one thing that got their attention. The one thing that made their schedules “magically open up,” as my late wife Helen used to say.
So I rented the most luxurious tour bus available and planned a weeklong trip to the coast. All expenses paid.
Seating inside a luxury tour bus | Source: Pexels
Then I sent out new invites to my family, asking them to join me for the “real birthday celebration.”
The responses were predictably enthusiastic, now that they were getting more than a slice of cake and a few hours with an old man out of it.
When the day arrived, all 15 of them showed up with piles of luggage and wide smiles.
People carrying bags | Source: Pexels
My great-granddaughter Zoe squealed when she saw the tour bus and instantly started taking selfies in front of it.
I watched them board, chattering and laughing. My family… my legacy. I smiled to myself as I climbed aboard last. Maybe this was how we’d finally connect.
The countryside rolled by in waves of gold and green while I sat in the back, watching them all.
A road cutting through the country | Source: Pexels
Gregory played cards with his boys. Caroline sipped wine with her daughter-in-law. The youngest kids bounced between seats, high on sugar and excitement.
No one sat with me. Not at any point during the many hours it took to reach our destination.
The coast was beautiful, I’ll give it that. Blue waves crashing against rocky shores, and seagulls wheeling overhead.
A road on the coast | Source: Pexels
I paid for a boat tour on our first day, but when I joined my family in the hotel lobby, Gregory frowned at me.
“Don’t you think you’re a little old to be going on a boat trip, Dad? Think about your health. What if you had another heart attack?”
“I—”
“Greg’s right, Dad.” Caroline cut me off. “It’s best if you stay here.”
A woman smiling at someone | Source: Pexels
And that was the pattern for the entire week.
I’d organized spa treatments, fishing excursions, surfing lessons, you name it. But I didn’t get to enjoy any of it. Or spend any time with my family.
Oh, they were careful to wrap their excuses in concern for my health, but Zoe’s obsession with social media betrayed them all.
A young teen girl staring at her cell phone | Source: Pexels
I was on my way to the beach (by myself) when I spotted Zoe in the garden just outside the hotel entrance, phone held out in front of her.
I started walking toward her but froze when I got close enough to overhear what she was saying.
“… enjoying the beach with my fam! We were even kind enough to bring my great-grandpa along, although my mom and grandma say he can’t do much because of his health issues. At least he can chill by the pool!”
A young teen girl using her cell phone | Source: Pexels
Zoe is only 12 and might be excused for spouting nonsense, but it was the narrative beneath her words that broke me; the things her mother and Caroline had told her.
I saw the truth now. I’d thought I was investing in a chance to bring my family together when I paid for this trip, but they just saw me as useless baggage they were forced to drag along.
I went down to the beach and stayed there, watching the families who actually cared about each other building sandcastles and laughing together until the stars came out.
Starry sky over a beach | Source: Pexels
The week passed quickly.
Too quickly for them, apparently. The complaints started before we even loaded the bus for the return trip.
“God, this drive is going to be brutal,” Caroline muttered, sunglasses perched on her head.
A woman staring at something | Source: Pexels
“I don’t know why Grandpa didn’t just rent a private jet,” her eldest son said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Loud enough for me to hear.
Two hours into the journey home, I felt a tightness in my chest.
A distressed man | Source: Midjourney
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.
It wasn’t a heart attack — I’d had one of those before and knew the difference. This was just age and stress and heartache making themselves known.
“Can we pull over?” I asked, my voice weaker than I intended. “I need a minute.”
A man with his hands pressed together | Source: Pexels
Gregory looked up from his laptop, irritated. “We just stopped an hour ago.”
“You can’t wait 30 more minutes?” Caroline snapped. “There’s a rest area up ahead.”
I pressed a hand to my stomach. “I just need a moment to breathe.”
Close up of a man’s face | Source: Pexels
My son-in-law, James, sighed dramatically and signaled the driver.
The bus pulled into a grimy gas station, all buzzing florescent lights and faded advertisements.
“Make it quick, Dad,” Gregory said, not looking up from his screen.
A man typing on a laptop | Source: Pexels
Gone was the concern for my health that they’d pulled out like red cards at a soccer match every time I tried to join in on the holiday excursions.
I shuffled inside the gas station restroom and splashed water on my face. The man who looked back at me in the mirror seemed suddenly smaller than I remembered.
When I walked back outside, blinking in the harsh sunlight, the parking lot was empty. The bus was gone.
A gas station | Source: Pexels
I stood there, my blazer suddenly insufficient against the wind that picked up. No phone. No wallet. Nothing but the clothes on my back and the watch on my wrist.
“You okay, sir?” A young voice broke through my shock.
A girl stood in the gas station doorway, maybe 19, her name tag reading “Marlee.”
“I think I’ve been… forgotten,” I said.
A startled-looking man | Source: Midjourney
She frowned, looking around the empty lot. “Someone just left you here?”
“My family,” I said, and the words felt like glass in my throat.
“That’s messed up,” she said simply. Then she disappeared inside, returning moments later with a foil-wrapped package. “Microwave burrito. It’s not much, but you look like you could use something.”
A burrito | Source: Pexels
I took it, surprised by the kindness of the gesture. “Thank you.”
Marlee’s shift ended two hours later. During that time, no one called, and no one came back for me.
“Look, I can’t just leave you here,” she said. “My apartment’s not far…”
So, I went home with Marlee to an apartment smaller than my bedroom.
An apartment building | Source: Pexels
She made soup from a can and loaned me thick wool socks when she noticed me rubbing my feet.
“My brother’s room is yours tonight,” she said, showing me to a small bedroom with posters of bands I didn’t recognize. “We’ll figure this out in the morning.”
I lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling.
A man lying in a bed | Source: Pexels
Not once had Marlee asked who I was beyond my name. Not once had she questioned whether helping me would benefit her in any way.
She saw an old man in need and extended her hand. Simple as that.
When morning came, I borrowed Marlee’s cellphone and made one call — to my lawyer. It was time to teach my family a lesson.
A man making a phone call | Source: Pexels
I was home by mid-morning, and my family started arriving by noon, their faces twisted with panic and indignation.
“Dad, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding,” Gregory started, standing in my foyer like he owned the place.
“We went back for you!” Caroline insisted, though we both knew it was a lie.
A woman speaking to someone | Source: Pexels
I let them talk themselves out. Let them rage and plead and make promises we all knew they wouldn’t keep.
When they finally fell silent, I opened the front door.
Marlee stood on the porch, a plate of homemade cookies in her hands. I placed a gentle hand on Marlee’s shoulder as she entered, confusion evident on her face as she took in the scene.
A confused woman | Source: Pexels
“This,” I said, calm as still water, “is Marlee. She didn’t know who I was. She didn’t know what I had. But she saved me, took care of me, and reminded me what it means to be seen.”
My family stared, uncomprehending.
“I’m taking back all the businesses, cars, houses, and every other gift I’ve ever given you all,” I continued, watching the realization dawn on their faces. “Everything you thought was yours will now belong to her.”
A man pointing his finger | Source: Pexels
“You can’t be serious,” Caroline whispered, her perfectly manicured hand pressed to her throat.
“You left me at a gas station without a backward glance. And I finally saw you all clearly.”
Marlee looked between us all, stunned. “Lennox, I don’t understand—”
“You will,” I said gently. “But unlike them, you never have to worry about what it means to be family. You already know.”
An emotional man | Source: Pexels
They left in a storm of threats and tears. But I felt lighter than I had in decades. Marlee stayed, confused but kind as ever.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I told her as we sat in my study later. “The money and properties are yours, regardless. But I hope you’ll let an old man show you the ropes.”
She smiled then, and it reminded me so much of Helen that my heart squeezed in my chest.
A smiling woman | Source: Pexels
“I think,” she said carefully, “that we could both use a friend.”
And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I didn’t feel forgotten at all.
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