Sarah Jessica Parker forced to defend herself, public attacks naturally aging beauty and casual style

Carrie Bradshaw once said, “I will literally be the old woman who lived in her shoes.” But Sarah Jessica parker, the woman behind the sassy fashionista in the hit TV show Sex and the City, isn’t Jimmy Choo-obsessed, nor does she have a wardrobe filled with playful tutus and strappy slip dresses.Still, the confident 58-year-old actor is fielding hateful comments from the online population who can’t understand why her real-life persona is contrary to the modish character she plays.

Parker, who’s proudly aging naturally, gracefully and beautifully, answers back saying it’s, “just not a reality,” and “there’s no time to let vanity enter.” Keep reading to learn what the lovely Sarah Jessica Parker has to say about aging!
In her role as the beloved Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City, Sarah Jessica Parker served some iconic, oftentimes controversial, looks.

While her character was considered a trendsetter by women across the globe, Parker in real life, has never been an urban chic fashionista.
“It’s not the way I perceive myself, I’m so low on my priority list,” said Parker, who raised three children while she was at the height of her career. “I love beautiful clothes and am privileged enough to have access to a lot them…but they also are returned the next day. They are not mine.”

Keep reading to learn more…


In real life, the star admits that she prefers a practical style, which isn’t always popular with the demanding public.
Unsexiest woman alive
In fact, in 2008, she was named in a Maxim poll as the “Unsexiest Woman Alive.”
Shortly after she earned the unflattering title, Parker spoke with Grazia (through Daily Mail) and said, “Do I have big fake boobs, Botox and big lips? No. Do I fit some ideals and standards of some men writing in a men’s magazine? Maybe not.” The star of And Just Like That continues, “Am I really the unsexiest woman in the world? Wow! It’s kind of shocking when men…It’s so brutal in a way…”
Years later, the Family Stone star appeared at the Met Gala wearing a golden Dolce & Gabbana gown that she paired with an ornate nativity headpiece.


Though she was serving an incredibly unique and smashing look, the public only commented on her aging.
“Aye real quick, how old is Sarah Jessica Parker because [her] skin look like tree bark and I’m confused,” said one. A second writes, “Is that Sarah Jessica Parker? Oh gosh she looks so old and worn out.”
Then, in 2021, the Hocus Pocus star was lunching with Bravo star Andy Cohen. Parker was makeup free, her silvery hair tied back in a braided ponytail.
It didn’t take long for the online population to start spitting hate over her appearance. But, Cohen, who also has a head of grey hair, defended his friend.
“We were at lunch and there was a paparazzi, and she’s sitting next to me, white hair,” said Cohen, 55, of his own white hair. Speaking on The Drew Barrymore Show, he continued, “All the articles were ‘Sarah Jessica Parker, she’s going gray’ and ‘She looks old,’ and it was insanity.
Here she is sitting next to me, who’s gray, and people just missed the mark totally. It was so misogynistic.”
Following that, Parker spoke with Vogue and had a lot to say about unforgiving people and their unrealistic standards of beauty.
“There’s so much misogynist chatter… I’m sitting with Andy Cohen, and he has a full head of gray hair, and he’s exquisite. Why is it okay for him?” Parker continues, “‘She has too many wrinkles, she doesn’t have enough wrinkles.’ It almost feels as if people don’t want us to be perfectly okay with where we are, as if they almost enjoy us being pained by who we are today, whether we choose to age naturally and not look perfect, or whether you do something if that makes you feel better.


She adds, “I know what I look like. I have no choice. What am I going to do about it? Stop aging? Disappear?”
Influential woman
The title of “unsexist woman alive” was upstaged in 2022 when the Golden Globe winning actor was named by Time as one of its “100 most influential people in the world.”
Though she may not dress the part of Carrie, who’s the star of the TV series, two films and the reboot And Just Like That, Parker does own her own designer brand, SJP, which – not surprisingly – started as shoes.
The star of Honeymoon in Vegas is also a TV producer, the co-founder of the spirit “The Perfect Cosmo by SJP” (Carrie’s favorite drink), is involved with publishing, fragrances and has a wine label – to name a few.


And just like that
Also unlike Carrie and her hapless search for romance, the star of Footloose found love in the early 1990s with Matthew Broderick, the star of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
The adorable couple – who starred on Broadway together – married on May 19, 1997, and have been together ever since.
When Broderick was asked to reveal his secret for a successful marriage, he answered: “I don’t know the secret at all, but I, you know, I’m very grateful and I love her. It’s amazing. I mean, I can’t believe that it’s been that long. It doesn’t feel like it.”
The couple share three kids, son James Wilkie (born 2002), along with twins Tabitha Hodge and Marion Loretta Elwell, who joined the family in 2009, via surrogate.
The woman leads a busy life and should be applauded for her accomplishments, not criticized.


Speaking natural in real life, the actor said, “It’s not how I think of myself, and I think it’s probably the healthier approach.”
She continues, “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.”

My MIL Gave Away My Late Mom’s Heirloom to Her Friends — I Immediately Made Sure She’d Regret It

When I spotted a stranger wearing my late mom’s cherished necklace at a café, my world flipped. My meddling MIL had stolen it, along with other heirlooms, and lent them to her friends. Furious and betrayed, I reclaimed what was mine and plotted a lesson she’d never forget.

I’ve always prided myself on the kind of person people can count on. My husband, Michael, likes to say that my heart is my strongest muscle. It’s sweet. Corny, but sweet.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Together, we’ve built something beautiful: a relationship rooted in respect, understanding, and love.

So when his mom, Lucille, needed a place to stay, I didn’t hesitate. She’d lost her apartment, and while she wasn’t exactly easy to live with, I couldn’t say no. Family is family, right?

“You’re sure?” Michael asked, hesitation flickering across his face. “She can be… a lot.”

A doubtful man | Source: Midjourney

A doubtful man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sure,” I replied. “But she has to agree to be respectful, okay? Living with us doesn’t mean she gets to do whatever she wants in our house, or with our stuff.”

My husband nodded. “I agree. I’ll speak to her and make sure she understands that.”

At first, it was fine. She could be intrusive, sure, but mostly she was just there, taking up space like an overly perfumed shadow. I chalked up her quirks to the adjustment period.

Until the necklace incident.

A woman standing with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

My best friend Tara and I had planned a brunch date at the café on Maple, a little spot with sticky tabletops and the best lattes in town. We’d just settled in when I noticed a group of middle-aged women laughing at a nearby table.

One of them was wearing my mother’s necklace.

My stomach dropped. There was no mistaking the familiar glint of gold, or the intricate filigree on the pendant that had been in my family for generations.

A necklace on a woman's neck | Source: Midjourney

A necklace on a woman’s neck | Source: Midjourney

That necklace wasn’t just a valuable piece of jewelry either, it was her… my mom. The piece she’d worn to weddings and graduations and everyday errands. The one she’d entrusted to me before cancer took her away.

“What’s wrong?” Tara asked, following my gaze.

“That woman’s wearing Mom’s necklace! How… I’ll be right back,” I said, rising on shaky legs.

I approached the woman, my heart hammering.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“Excuse me?” My voice cracked as I approached her table.

She looked up, startled but polite. “Yes?”

“Your necklace,” I said, pointing with a shaky finger. “Where did you get it?”

“Oh, this?” She touched the pendant, her brow furrowing. “My friend Lucille lent it to me. Said it was just some old junk from her daughter-in-law’s late mother. She insisted I take it.”

A woman touching a necklace she's wearing | Source: Midjourney

A woman touching a necklace she’s wearing | Source: Midjourney

Lucille!

My ears rang. “Really? Because Lucille is my mother-in-law, and that’s my necklace. It’s one of my most treasured possessions, too, not a piece of junk, and I never said she could lend it out to anyone.”

The woman’s face crumpled as she reached for the clasp. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. She made it sound like… oh God. I’ll give it back.”

“And the rest of it,” I added, sweeping my gaze across the table like a prosecutor delivering a final blow. The air around me seemed to thicken as I recognized each piece, a fresh wave of anger rising with every discovery.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

The women exchanged uneasy glances. One by one, they began fumbling with their jewelry. Karen, a woman wearing one of Mom’s brooches, looked at me with wide, guilt-ridden eyes.

“We truly didn’t know,” she stammered, her fingers trembling as she unclasped it. “Lucille made it seem like it was no big deal.”

“She lied,” I replied flatly, extending my hand. “Please, just give them back.”

There were murmurs of embarrassment and whispered apologies as the others followed Karen’s lead.

Women in a coffeeshop | Source: Midjourney

Women in a coffeeshop | Source: Midjourney

Rings slipped off fingers, bracelets were pulled from wrists, and necklaces were unfastened with hurried movements. By the time the last piece was handed over, my pockets bulged with stolen memories. Yet instead of relief, I felt only a simmering fury.

“She said they were just sitting around,” another woman said hesitantly, her voice low. “We had no idea.”

I nodded stiffly, though my heart ached. These weren’t just objects. They were fragments of my mom’s life that I thought I’d kept safe.

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

“I know you didn’t,” I said quietly. “It’s not your fault.”

As I turned to leave, I forced myself to walk calmly, though every step felt like an effort not to burst into tears or scream into the open air. Outside, Tara was waiting by the car, her face tense with concern.

“Did you get it all back?” she asked as I slid into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah. But this isn’t over.”

A woman driving a car | Source: Pexels

A woman driving a car | Source: Pexels

The faint jingle of the heirlooms in my pocket was the only sound as I gripped the steering wheel tightly and stared ahead, swallowing my emotions.

At home, the scent of cheap lavender slapped me in the face the moment I entered Lucille’s room. Her presence lingered, as suffocating as her perfume. It clung to everything: the curtains, the bedding, and even the damn air.

Her jewelry box sat open on the dresser, its contents shimmering like a taunt.

A jewelry box | Source: Midjourney

A jewelry box | Source: Midjourney

I stepped closer, the floor creaking underfoot. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, my expression hard and unyielding. This wasn’t me; this simmering ball of anger and betrayal. But Lucille had pushed me too far.

Then the idea struck.

If Lucille wanted to play lending library, fine. But she wasn’t going to use my family’s legacy.

A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney

A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney

I gathered every piece of her jewelry I could find — necklaces, bracelets, the works — and reached out to her friends.

Karen, the ringleader of the brunch group, was the first to respond.

“Think you and the others would mind helping me teach her a lesson?” I asked.

Karen, bless her, laughed. “Oh honey, we’re in.”

A few days later, Lucille invited her friends over for tea and I set my plan in motion.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

I watched from the shadows of the hallway as her friends arrived, each one adorned in her jewelry. Karen’s coat bore Lucille’s infamous rhinestone brooch, catching the light every time she moved.

Another woman wore the chunky gold necklace Lucille always bragged about at family dinners, while someone else twirled her fingers, stacked with Lucille’s signature cocktail rings.

Lucille, oblivious at first, poured tea and chattered about nothing, her voice loud and grating as usual. Then she froze.

A woman gasping | Source: Midjourney

A woman gasping | Source: Midjourney

Her gaze landed on Karen’s brooch, and her smile faltered. Her eyes darted from one woman to the next, and with each new piece of jewelry she recognized, her face turned a deeper shade of red.

“What-what’s going on?” she stammered, her tone sharp with suspicion.

Karen, bless her, played it cool. “What’s wrong, Lucille? You’re happy to let us borrow these, aren’t you?”

Lucille’s teacup rattled as she set it down, her hand trembling.

A tea cup | Source: Midjourney

A tea cup | Source: Midjourney

“That’s my jewelry! What are you all doing wearing it?”

The group fell silent, shifting uncomfortably. Karen tilted her head, feigning confusion. “Wait a minute,” she said slowly. “You were fine giving away your daughter-in-law’s heirlooms. Isn’t this fair as well?”

Lucille’s eyes widened, her chest heaving with outrage. “That’s completely different! These pieces are mine!” Her voice cracked, the shrill edge betraying her panic.

That was my cue.

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

I stepped into the room, the weight of my presence halting her tirade mid-sentence.

“Oh, calm down, Lucille,” I said, my tone even but laced with ice. “I thought it was only fair to return the favor. You know, since you decided my late mother’s heirlooms were yours to lend out.”

Her head snapped toward me, her face pale and panicked. “I didn’t…”

“Don’t even try,” I interrupted.

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

“You knew exactly what you were doing. You stole from me. You lied to your friends. And you insulted my mother’s memory by calling her legacy ‘old junk.’”Her face paled, the bravado draining away. “I-I didn’t mean…”

“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” I said sharply. “You crossed a line. A massive one. And I’m done letting you disrespect me.”

Lucille’s voice dropped to a whimper. “Please don’t call the police.”

A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney

A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney

“I should,” I said. “You don’t just get to steal and lie without consequences.”

That night, Lucille packed her things and left. Michael helped her carry her suitcases to the car, his silence saying everything. It didn’t erase the betrayal, but it helped.

Lucille’s friends, furious at being lied to, cut ties with her until she apologized to me as well as them. Even then, I made it clear: she was never to be left alone in my home again.

A victorious woman | Source: Midjourney

A victorious woman | Source: Midjourney

I locked my mother’s jewelry in a safe that same night. When I looked at the necklace, now safely back where it belonged, I felt a bittersweet relief. It reminded me of Mom’s love, of her strength. And of my own.

Because in the end, Lucille may have tried to take a piece of my mother’s legacy, but she couldn’t take the lesson I learned: sometimes, being a good person means standing up for yourself.

Here’s another story: When I arrived at the hospital to bring home my wife and newborn twins, I was met with heartbreak: Suzie was gone, leaving only a cryptic note. As I juggled caring for the babies and unraveling the truth, I discovered the dark secrets that tore my family apart.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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