Yes, I'm a cliche. I love Sex and the City. I quote the series liberally, watch certain episodes repeatedly, and crash through various fashion disasters loosely based on Carrie et al (exposed bra straps, faux flowers, randomly tied scarves). It's really irritating, I'm sure. Whatever. I'm not going to apologize for certain loves — like the delicious raw quail eggs on top of my tobiko (not a weird euphemism) or SATC. Moving on. Why on earth did the movie — the preview to which I've watched so many times, so closely, I'm surprised I haven't had a &^%$ fashion seizure — premiere in London!? The fifth gal in that series is NYC (speaking of cliches — sue me), and though I've got nothing against London or Brits en masse, it seems a betrayal that the world premiere would happen in the shadow of Big Ben, and not the Chrysler building. It's like we caught the girls drinking Pimms instead of cosmos. Sigh. Back to trying to figure out the entire plot from this one little preview.