I tend to tell people – I tend to tell myself – that I stick (like glue) with And Just Like That… only for the clothes, and it’s true that in the small hours, I do sometimes picture Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) flipping open the wing of her JW Anderson pigeon clutch bag and nonchalantly pulling out a stick of gum. “Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!” I mutter to myself, semi-hysterical at the memory of the tricorn hat she wears one early morning in a Manhattan coffee shop in episode four (how I wish she’d gone the full Long John Silver, and put the pigeon on her shoulder).
But the truth is that while I might well come for the My Little Pony pastels and the Piers Plowman footwear, I stay for the combination of glib identity politics and extreme shopping, which for me signal just as powerfully as any rising temperatures or deathly wildfires that, indubitably, The End Is Nigh.
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