There is a mystery animating the core of classic-era Sex and the City, a mystery as important as those that lie at the cores of Lost or Westworld: How the hell are these women best friends? I mean, sure, we have the fact-based explanation, courtesy of Sex and the City 2 — Carrie met Charlotte when they were both flashed by a stranger on subway; Samantha was working as a bartender and waited on Carrie; Carrie met Miranda while the latter was crying in a dressing room at Bloomingdale’s (as one does).

And then, they all decided to hang out exclusively with each other for the next 20 years because…they’re the only four people who live in the desolate, post-apocalyptic wasteland of Manhattan? All of their other friends had plans for the next 7286 Saturday nights? An evil fairy, enraged that she was not invited to Princess Aurora’s christening, cursed them all to only hang out with each other until the end of time? They all make about as much sense as the option the show asks us to believe, which is that these women enjoy each other’s company more than they do anyone else in all of New York City.

The friends from, say, Friends, you understand what they have in common: they’re all absolutely absurd, immature doofuses who show up to their jobs maybe twice a year. That’s called a shared interest, and it’s how people create a bond that lasts a lifetime. But the friendships of SATC lack any similar shared interest. The characters’ sharply diverging characters and outlooks were fun to watch in action and an excellent source of narrative friction, but they didn’t make too much sense as a coherent social circle. They always felt a little bit more like those internet videos about a turkey and a Golden Retriever who are best friends. You watch and wonder: What do they talk about? What are they each getting out of this relationship? I have no idea, but it seems to be working for them!!