All’s Fair Understands Something Sex And The City Never Did

There is a quiet moment that opens one of the early episodes of All’s Fair. A woman stands at her bathroom counter, unhurried, moving through her nighttime skincare routine with the calm confidence of someone who knows exactly who she is. No joke undercuts the scene. No irony rushes it along. It simply exists. That choice, small as it seems, is why All’s Fair feels like the show Sex and the City never quite grew into.

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For years, SATC taught us that female power came wrapped in motion. Heels clicking down pavements. Cocktails ordered mid-sentence. Sex, work, friendship, all moving at the same relentless pace. Beauty was present, but often as shorthand or panic. Skincare meant fear. Ageing was a threat. Femininity had to keep up.

All’s Fair slows everything down and in doing so, makes femininity feel more powerful than it ever did on television before.

A Show That Treats Feminine Rituals as Structure, Not Set Dressing

Set inside an all-female divorce law firm in Los Angeles, All’s Fair follows women who hold institutional power. They negotiate reputations, dismantle marriages, and argue high-stakes cases for a living. But what makes the show culturally interesting isn’t the courtroom drama. It’s the way it opens its episodes.

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Lunch conversations drift into dermat treatments without apology. Lipstick is applied before negotiations, not after. Skincare routines are shown not as vanity, but as decompression. These moments aren’t there to soften the women. They’re there to stabilise them. That distinction matters.

For decades, feminine habits were framed as distractions from authority. To care about your appearance was to risk being taken less seriously. Professional women were taught to neutralise themselves. Power required restraint. Beauty was something to hide, compress, or justify. All’s Fair refuses that logic.

Why This Feels Like the Evolution SATC Never Got To Have

Sex and the City was revolutionary because it centred women’s desire unapologetically. But it existed in a cultural moment that still demanded proof. Proof of freedom. Proof of ambition. Proof that wanting more didn’t make you frivolous.

That urgency shaped everything. Clothes were statements. Sex was currency. Beauty was performance. The world All’s Fair inhabits feels post-performance.

These women are not trying to convince anyone that they belong. They already do. And when you no longer need to announce your power, you are free to tend to yourself. You can take your time. You can discuss injectables at lunch without irony. You can care for your skin without it becoming a punchline.

This is not regression. It’s confidence.

The Radical Idea: Femininity as Preparation

One of the quiet achievements of All’s Fair is how it reframes feminine rituals as preparation rather than indulgence. The skincare routine at night isn’t about looking good. It’s about regulating after a long day of emotional labour. The beauty talk isn’t trivial. It’s bonding. Information exchange. Control over one’s body in professions built on exposure and negotiation.

In a world that still asks women to be endlessly resilient, these rituals act as anchors. They allow softness without fragility. Care without compromise. This feels deeply aligned with how many women live now, especially in their thirties and forties. Beauty isn’t about chasing youth or trends. It’s about maintenance. Energy management. Sustainability. Knowing what helps you show up better tomorrow.

Why Critics Missing the Point Doesn’t Really Matter

Yes, All’s Fair has been criticised. Some of it is fair. The writing can be blunt. The performances are uneven. The glamour is occasionally excessive. But cultural relevance doesn’t always arrive fully formed. What matters is that the show has struck a nerve.

Audiences have embraced it because it articulates something we haven’t seen clearly on screen before: a version of female power that doesn’t require hardness. A world where competence and care coexist. Where glamour doesn’t cancel intelligence. Where femininity isn’t a liability.

What All’s Fair Gets Right About Power Today

If Sex and the City taught us how to want, All’s Fair suggests something more useful: how to sustain. It shows us women who don’t perform empowerment, but inhabit it. Who understand that control doesn’t always look aggressive. Sometimes it looks like choosing the right serum and going to bed. Sometimes it looks like tending to yourself so you can fight better tomorrow.

That’s not a step backwards. It’s an evolution. And maybe that’s why, imperfect as it is, All’s Fair feels like the feminine power fantasy many of us have been waiting for.

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