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!”
I Fell Asleep in the Back Seat of a Taxi on Christmas Eve – When I Woke Up, I Was in the Garage of a Strange House
Christmas Eve always carried a weight I could never shake. As I slid into the back seat of the taxi, the world around me blurred into sleep, and I let it. When I awoke, it wasn’t to the sight of home, but to a cold, abandoned room.
The sterile white lights of the hospital hallway buzzed above me, a constant reminder of my exhaustion from back-to-back night shifts. Christmas Eve in the ER was no different from any other day—chaotic, loud, and unforgiving.
Tired female nurse | Source: Midjourney
But tonight, there was a promise of something waiting at home: Jeremy, my boyfriend of four years, a man who could light up the darkest room with his smile.
“Hey, you done?” He had called just before my shift ended, excitement brimming in his voice. “I got the tree lit, cider on the stove, and even put on that ridiculous sweater you hate. You’re gonna love it.”
I forced a laugh, the kind that came naturally when he talked about Christmas. Jeremy adored the holiday. It was in his DNA, something passed down through generations of festive gatherings with his family.
Family celebrating Christmas | Source: Midjourney
I wanted to love it too. But Christmas to me was an empty chair at a table I never got to sit at. It was just a reminder of the hollow space where my parents should have been. Growing up in an orphanage, I’d learned only bits and pieces about my parents: my mother had died when I was young, and I didn’t know much about my dad.
So for me, Christmas wasn’t a celebration; it was an ache, a reminder of everything I’d lost before I could even understand what it meant.
I shook off the thought and stepped outside, shivering as the winter air hit me. Just then, a yellow cab pulled up to the curb. The driver leaned over, gave a small nod, and smiled as if he knew me. “Megan?”
Nurse standing next to a yellow taxi | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, that’s me.” I opened the back door and slid in, the leather seats cool beneath me. The exhaustion that had settled in my bones for the past 48 hours took over, and before I knew it, I was asleep.
It was the sudden silence that woke me. I blinked, expecting to see the familiar blur of streetlights through rain-slicked windows.
Instead, darkness surrounded me, oppressive and still. My breath quickened, and I realized the driver was gone. The taxi, too, was eerily still, parked in what looked like an abandoned garage.
Worried woman inside a taxi | Source: Midjourney
“Hello?” My voice came out weak, swallowed by the shadows.
I reached for my phone, but my fingers met an empty pocket. Panic shot up my spine as I heard it—a faint creak that cut through the silence. A thin line of light stretched across the floor as the door slowly opened, and in its glow, I saw a silhouette.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I strained to make sense of where I was. The cab, once a safe, familiar space, now felt like a cage.
Worried woman inside a taxi | Source: Midjourney
“Hello?” I called again, louder this time, but the silence pressed back, heavier than before. The beam of light grew, inch by inch until it fell on the face of a stranger.
“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice cracking.
The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, the door creaking wider behind him. As he moved into the dim light, I could see the sharp angles of his face. His coat was thick and dark, the kind worn to keep out a bitter chill.
Man in an abandoned garage | Source: Midjourney
“Megan Price, right?” His voice was low, and practiced, like he knew he needed to keep it steady to control the situation.
“Why do you know my name?” I shifted in the back seat, my fingers brushing the door handle.
He exhaled, almost impatiently, and glanced at the cab, then back at me. “You’re not in any danger. I need you to come with me. There’s something you need to know.”
I laughed sarcastically. “Is that what people say when they’re about to kidnap someone? Because it’s not very reassuring.”
Scared young woman | Source: Midjourney
“To be honest,” he said, voice thick with something that made my chest constrict, “I was against the fact that we scared you so much. Your boyfriend made it all up.” His smile was a shaky mask, an attempt to soften the bombshell he was about to drop.
My mind stumbled over the words, trying to piece together the implications. Jeremy? My confusion surged into anger, hot and immediate. “What do you mean, my boyfriend made it up? Who are you?” My voice cracked as the last word tumbled out, raw and desperate.
Scared young woman talking to a stranger | Source: Midjourney
The man’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he took a step closer. “I know this is… overwhelming,” he said, his voice wavering, “but I had no choice. We had no choice.”
A painful silence hung between us. My breath came in short, every exhale shaking with disbelief. The man’s expression crumbled, and he looked down as if ashamed. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.
Close-up shot of a 50 year old garage | Source: Midjourney
“But I am… your father, daughter.” His eyes met mine, and this time, a tear escaped, tracing a line down the deep creases of his face. He swallowed hard and covered his mouth as if it could stop the wave of emotion threatening to break.
“No,” I breathed, the word almost inaudible. My legs weakened as I tried to piece everything together.
Scared woman talking to a stranger | Source: Midjourney
The man—my father—stood before me, shoulders slumped under the weight of emotion, but I stayed frozen in place. The word father felt sharp and unfamiliar like I’d stumbled across a shard of glass in my path.
For years, I’d pictured my parents in distant, shadowy forms, and now here was a real, flesh-and-blood person claiming he was part of me. My body ached to trust him, to accept this lost piece, but my mind held me back.
Jeremy must’ve sensed my hesitation. He stepped up, holding a crumpled envelope. “Megan, I know it’s hard to believe. But here—this is the proof. It’s a DNA test. I wanted to be sure before… well, before I put you through this.”
Young man smiling holding an envelope | Source: Midjourney
I looked down at the envelope, my heart pounding. “How… how did you even do this? How did you find him?”
Jeremy let out a sigh, glancing at the man and then back to me. “I know you never thought about searching, but… I did. Two years ago, I decided to look into your family, quietly, just in case it would mean something to you one day.”
He pulled me closer, his voice tender but firm. “I knew how much not having your family haunted you, especially at Christmas. So I started hiring people—private detectives, researchers. I went down every lead until we finally found a trail.”
Couple having a deep conversation | Source: Midjourney
The man—my supposed father—shifted his weight, rubbing his eyes as though he couldn’t quite believe it either.
“It wasn’t easy,” Jeremy continued, his voice lowering. “I found out that… well, after your mother got pregnant, she never told him. He had no idea you existed.”
I felt the sting of that, the realization that my mother—a woman I’d only known through childhood fantasies—had chosen to leave me at an orphanage and walk away. She’d vanished into the background of my life without ever telling this man… my father… what she’d done.
Woman in deep thoughts | Source: Midjourney
“She died several years ago,” Jeremy went on gently. “But I tracked down her sister. She lives in Eastern Europe, and after some long talks, she told me there was one person who could be your father. So, I reached out.”
I looked back at the man, a wave of guarded resentment and longing roiling inside me. “And he just… accepted it? Just like that?”
Jeremy nodded slowly, searching my face. “He was shocked, of course. It was only once I told him about you that he agreed to come, but I wanted to be certain. I wanted proof. So, one night I… I took a few strands of hair from your brush.”
Couple having a deep conversation | Source: Midjourney
My stomach twisted at the thought of it, the quiet lengths Jeremy had gone to, the hours, the money, all without me knowing. The man across from me—my father—clenched his jaw, his own hand trembling slightly. His eyes were locked on mine, an expression of cautious hope and deep pain in their depths.
“I did’n’t know about you, Megan,” he said, his voice thick, fighting back tears. “I didn’t know you existed until recently, and I… I didn’t believe it at first. But seeing you…” His voice faltered, and he glanced away, struggling to regain his composure.
Father and daughter talking | Source: Midjourney
The weight of his words settled heavily over me, and I took a shaky breath, my heart both heavy and fractured. “You were never there,” I murmured, a trace of bitterness slipping out. “I grew up without you. Without any of you.”
He took a step closer, then stopped, respecting the distance I maintained between us. “I don’t know if I can ever make up for that, Megan,” he said, voice raw. “I don’t even know if you’ll ever be able to forgive me. But if you let me… I’d like to be here now.”
Father and daughter talking | Source: Midjourney
Silence hung between us, thick with the years lost and the strange, uncertain possibility of the years ahead. The truth, the aching reality of what I’d been told, lay there, its edges sharp and unfamiliar. I didn’t know if I could open myself to him, didn’t know if I even wanted to.
But Jeremy’s hand tightened around mine, grounding me, reminding me that maybe… just maybe… I didn’t have to go through it all alone.
Man talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
Taking a tentative step forward, I met the man’s gaze, that mix of hope and regret in his eyes. My voice shook as I finally spoke, letting my guard down just enough to let him hear a crack in the wall I’d built.
“I don’t know if I can call you Dad yet,” I whispered. “But… I think I’d like to know you.”
His face softened, and for a moment, the years that separated us fell away. A tear slipped down his cheek as he managed a small, hopeful smile.
Father and daughter bonding | Source: Midjourney
“That’s all I could ask for, Megan. Thank you,” he said, his voice trembling with gratitude.
And as the lights from the upstairs Christmas tree spilled down the stairs, I allowed myself to take a step toward something I’d never thought I’d have—a father, and maybe, just maybe, a new family.
Young couple celebrating Christmas | Source: Midjourney
Loved this story? Don’t miss another unforgettable one: On Christmas night, I realized my 9-year-old daughter and my car keys were missing.
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.
Leave a Reply