Carrie Bradshaw once said, “I will literally be the old woman who lived in her shoes.” But Sarah Jessica parker, the woman behind the sassy fashionista in the hit TV show Sex and the City, isn’t Jimmy Choo-obsessed, nor does she have a wardrobe filled with playful tutus and strappy slip dresses.Still, the confident 58-year-old actor is fielding hateful comments from the online population who can’t understand why her real-life persona is contrary to the modish character she plays.
Parker, who’s proudly aging naturally, gracefully and beautifully, answers back saying it’s, “just not a reality,” and “there’s no time to let vanity enter.” Keep reading to learn what the lovely Sarah Jessica Parker has to say about aging!
In her role as the beloved Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City, Sarah Jessica Parker served some iconic, oftentimes controversial, looks.
While her character was considered a trendsetter by women across the globe, Parker in real life, has never been an urban chic fashionista.
“It’s not the way I perceive myself, I’m so low on my priority list,” said Parker, who raised three children while she was at the height of her career. “I love beautiful clothes and am privileged enough to have access to a lot them…but they also are returned the next day. They are not mine.”
Keep reading to learn more…
In real life, the star admits that she prefers a practical style, which isn’t always popular with the demanding public.
Unsexiest woman alive
In fact, in 2008, she was named in a Maxim poll as the “Unsexiest Woman Alive.”
Shortly after she earned the unflattering title, Parker spoke with Grazia (through Daily Mail) and said, “Do I have big fake boobs, Botox and big lips? No. Do I fit some ideals and standards of some men writing in a men’s magazine? Maybe not.” The star of And Just Like That continues, “Am I really the unsexiest woman in the world? Wow! It’s kind of shocking when men…It’s so brutal in a way…”
Years later, the Family Stone star appeared at the Met Gala wearing a golden Dolce & Gabbana gown that she paired with an ornate nativity headpiece.
Though she was serving an incredibly unique and smashing look, the public only commented on her aging.
“Aye real quick, how old is Sarah Jessica Parker because [her] skin look like tree bark and I’m confused,” said one. A second writes, “Is that Sarah Jessica Parker? Oh gosh she looks so old and worn out.”
Then, in 2021, the Hocus Pocus star was lunching with Bravo star Andy Cohen. Parker was makeup free, her silvery hair tied back in a braided ponytail.
It didn’t take long for the online population to start spitting hate over her appearance. But, Cohen, who also has a head of grey hair, defended his friend.
“We were at lunch and there was a paparazzi, and she’s sitting next to me, white hair,” said Cohen, 55, of his own white hair. Speaking on The Drew Barrymore Show, he continued, “All the articles were ‘Sarah Jessica Parker, she’s going gray’ and ‘She looks old,’ and it was insanity.
Here she is sitting next to me, who’s gray, and people just missed the mark totally. It was so misogynistic.”
Following that, Parker spoke with Vogue and had a lot to say about unforgiving people and their unrealistic standards of beauty.
“There’s so much misogynist chatter… I’m sitting with Andy Cohen, and he has a full head of gray hair, and he’s exquisite. Why is it okay for him?” Parker continues, “‘She has too many wrinkles, she doesn’t have enough wrinkles.’ It almost feels as if people don’t want us to be perfectly okay with where we are, as if they almost enjoy us being pained by who we are today, whether we choose to age naturally and not look perfect, or whether you do something if that makes you feel better.
She adds, “I know what I look like. I have no choice. What am I going to do about it? Stop aging? Disappear?”
Influential woman
The title of “unsexist woman alive” was upstaged in 2022 when the Golden Globe winning actor was named by Time as one of its “100 most influential people in the world.”
Though she may not dress the part of Carrie, who’s the star of the TV series, two films and the reboot And Just Like That, Parker does own her own designer brand, SJP, which – not surprisingly – started as shoes.
The star of Honeymoon in Vegas is also a TV producer, the co-founder of the spirit “The Perfect Cosmo by SJP” (Carrie’s favorite drink), is involved with publishing, fragrances and has a wine label – to name a few.
And just like that
Also unlike Carrie and her hapless search for romance, the star of Footloose found love in the early 1990s with Matthew Broderick, the star of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
The adorable couple – who starred on Broadway together – married on May 19, 1997, and have been together ever since.
When Broderick was asked to reveal his secret for a successful marriage, he answered: “I don’t know the secret at all, but I, you know, I’m very grateful and I love her. It’s amazing. I mean, I can’t believe that it’s been that long. It doesn’t feel like it.”
The couple share three kids, son James Wilkie (born 2002), along with twins Tabitha Hodge and Marion Loretta Elwell, who joined the family in 2009, via surrogate.
The woman leads a busy life and should be applauded for her accomplishments, not criticized.
Speaking natural in real life, the actor said, “It’s not how I think of myself, and I think it’s probably the healthier approach.”
She continues, “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.”
My Halloween decorations kept getting stolen and ruined, but my world was turned upside down when I discovered who was behind it
I had just moved to a new town, hoping for a fresh start, but my neighbor Catherine made sure to ruin everything. She complained constantly and even stole my Halloween decorations. Determined to catch her in the act and get revenge, I set up a camera. What I discovered was far more shocking than I ever expected.
I had just finished setting up the Halloween decorations at my new house, feeling a little proud of how it all looked. Orange pumpkins, spider webs, and cute ghosts lined the front yard, ready for the kids who would come trick-or-treating.
It felt good to be settled after moving to this town just a month ago. My job was great, the house was cozy, and the town itself seemed charming—except for one thing: my neighbors.
Since the day I moved in, it felt like they had it out for me. It started with small things—comments about where I parked or how I didn’t trim my bushes the “right way.”
They would glance at me disapprovingly if I said “hi” in a way they didn’t like. It didn’t take long for the hostility to grow. One evening, they even called the police because I had my music on—at 7 p.m.! I couldn’t believe it.
The worst of them all was Catherine, who lived across the street. She was relentless, always coming over to complain about something. Once, she even stole my flowerpots, claiming they “didn’t fit the neighborhood vibe.”
I was beyond frustrated. Still, as I looked at my newly decorated house, I hoped at least this would be left alone. Just one thing that could bring some joy.
I’ve loved Halloween for as long as I can remember. It wasn’t just about the decorations or the candy; it reminded me of simpler times, warm childhood memories.
But this year, it felt different—darker. There was a hole in my heart where my dreams of having children used to be. It hurt to know I’d never create those special memories for my own kids.
Halloween, though, allowed me to heal a little, one bag of candy at a time. I poured it into a pumpkin, setting it out for the kids, and went inside, hoping for the best.
The next morning, my heart sank. All my decorations were gone. The only pumpkin left had been smashed, and the candy stolen. Tears welled up as I covered my mouth, overwhelmed by frustration and sadness. This was too much. I wasn’t going to let it slide. I knew who had done it, and I was determined to make her pay!
I stormed across the street and pounded on Catherine’s door, my anger bubbling over.
“Catherine! Open up! You’re a real witch!” I shouted, not caring who else heard.
After a few moments, the door flew open, and there she was, glaring at me.
“Have you lost your mind?” she yelled, hands on her hips.
“What did you do with my decorations?” I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.
“I didn’t touch your stupid decorations! Though they looked awful, if you ask me!” she shot back. “But I’m not ruining Halloween for the kids.”
“Just like you didn’t steal my flowerpots?” I screamed, stepping closer.
“Maeve, you’re crazy! You have no proof it was me!” she shouted, her face red. Then, with a loud slam, she shut the door in my face.
I stood there, shaking. “Witch!” I yelled at the closed door.
As I stood there, I realized that some of the neighbors had come outside, watching the whole scene. Their curious eyes were fixed on me, and I could already imagine the whispers behind my back.
They probably thought I was the crazy one now. I just wanted to do something nice for Halloween, and it had all been ruined. My throat tightened, and I could feel the tears building up again. Without another word, I turned and walked back home, my chest heavy with sobs.
Inside, I sat down, wiping my eyes. I couldn’t let this go. Halloween meant too much to me. I refused to let Catherine or anyone else destroy it. That evening, I made up my mind.
I went to the store, buying new decorations and candy. When I finished putting everything back up, I carefully placed a small camera among the decorations. This time, if she messed with them, I would have proof.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to a strange noise. My heart raced as I looked out the window. All my decorations were gone. Again. Anger bubbled up inside me as I quickly threw on my slippers and rushed outside.
The cool night air hit my face as I ran to grab the camera I had set up earlier. This time, I was sure I would catch Catherine in the act.
I hurried back inside and turned on the video. My eyes narrowed, ready to see Catherine, but to my shock, it wasn’t her. Instead, it was a boy—no older than 12—taking my decorations and candy. I stared at the screen, confused. I didn’t recognize him from the neighborhood.
Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and followed the direction the boy had gone. I passed house after house, but none of them seemed like his home.
I knew all the local kids, and he wasn’t one of them. Finally, I found myself standing in front of an old, abandoned house. A strange feeling came over me, urging me to go in.
Inside, it was dark and cold, the air damp and heavy. I pulled my cardigan tighter, my steps careful on the creaky wooden floors. Suddenly, I saw a faint light coming from a room. I walked in and froze.
There, huddled together, were two children—the boy from the video and a little girl, barely four years old. They were trembling, surrounded by my Halloween decorations.
“Please, don’t turn us in to the police!” the boy cried, his voice shaking. “My sister loves Halloween, but we don’t have any money. I didn’t want to steal, I swear! You just had the best decorations,” he said, his eyes wide with fear.
I stood there, staring at them. Two small kids in this awful, broken house. They looked so scared, and to be honest, I was scared too. The decorations didn’t matter anymore.
“Why are you here? Where are your parents?” I asked.
“We don’t have any,” the boy replied. “We ran away from our foster parents because they weren’t treating us right.”
I knelt down to their level, trying to understand. “What are your names?”
“I’m David, and this is my sister, Nicole,” he said, putting his arm around the little girl.
“My name is Maeve,” I told them, trying to sound reassuring. “You can’t stay here. It’s too cold. Come with me.”
David looked up at me, fear in his eyes. “Are you going to call the police?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m going to take you home,” I said, reaching out my hands to them both.
David and Nicole had been staying with me for several days now, and during that time, I had learned more about them through social services. It broke my heart to hear that their foster parents hadn’t even reported them missing.
How could anyone just forget about two children? I knew right then that there was no way they could go back. So, I filed the paperwork for temporary custody.
It was a bit of a process, but the social worker said the kids could stay with me even while we waited for everything to go through. That was a relief—I wasn’t ready to let them go.
The kids were amazing. At first, Nicole was so quiet, barely saying a word. She would just sit by herself, hugging her little stuffed bunny. But as the days went by, I saw her slowly start to relax.
She began to smile, laugh, and even talk a little. David, too, seemed happier. He helped me around the house, always asking if there was anything he could do.
Having them there made the house feel different—warmer, more alive. I hadn’t realized how empty it had felt before. It was as if David and Nicole had always been a part of my life.
In the evenings, I would read them bedtime stories. Every time, I felt tears welling up. I never thought my dream of having children would come true in such an unexpected way. But here we were, and it felt right.
On Halloween night, there was a knock at the door. Expecting trick-or-treaters, I smiled as I opened it, but instead of kids in costumes, I saw two police officers standing there.
“Can I help you, officers?” I asked, feeling my stomach drop a little.
“Your neighbor reported some strange screaming coming from your house,” one of the officers said. I followed his gaze across the street, where Catherine stood, arms crossed and a smug grin on her face. Of course, it was her.
Just then, a loud shout echoed from inside my house. I smiled sheepishly. “Oh, that. I’m showing the kids a scary movie for Halloween. You know, something fun for the night,” I explained, stepping aside. “Would you like to come in and check?”
The officers nodded and followed me inside. As we walked into the living room, one of them asked, “Are these your children?”
“Yes,” I said, the word slipping out naturally. “These are my children.”
It was the first time I had said it, but I realized it was true. In such a short time, they had become my family. I couldn’t imagine my life without them now.
The officers glanced at David and Nicole, who were sitting on the couch, eyes wide as they watched the scary movie. Every so often, they would pull the blanket over their heads, then peek out again.
The officers smiled, clearly seeing there was nothing wrong. “Have a good evening, ma’am,” they said, heading out the door.
As they walked out, I stepped onto the porch and waved at Catherine, who was still watching from across the street.
She looked furious, her face red with frustration. With a loud huff, she stomped her foot and marched back inside. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.
The next morning, I did what I had been thinking about for days—I applied to adopt David and Nicole. From that point on, I never spent another holiday alone. Every day was filled with laughter, love, and the warmth of family. I finally had what I had always dreamed of: I could call myself “Mom.”
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