This article is what is known as a “spoiler”.

In other words, if you haven’t yet seen Sex and the City, stop reading as I will be giving away the plot lines and spoiling it for you.

I attended the premiere last week, which was packed with women and a few bewildered men, who seemed to have been cajoled into attending and couldn’t understand what the fuss was all about.

SATC, as it is affectionately known by its fans, is a pop culture phenomenon, and you either ‘get it’ (and love it) or you don’t. The TV series, which lasted six seasons, has been repeated so many times on the Paramount Channel that I know half the dialogue by heart (and yes, if it’s on, I invariably watch the same episodes again which prompts my other half to look baffled: “but haven’t you seen this before?”).

The long-awaited movie brought all the SATC aficionados out in droves, with some women going so far as to dress up like their favourite character. For, of course, the fashion worn by Samantha, Miranda, Charlotte and above all, Carrie, is as much a part of this movie as the plot.

But above all, despite its title, the movie is not about sex, but about relationships. Women’s relationships with men, the way men and women look at relationships differently, and those very crucial relationships which women should never give up – the relationships with their girlfriends.

Afterwards, as I trawled through the reviews of this film (both from critics and the general public), I discovered it has been met with quite a mixed reaction. Admittedly it has its flaws – the pace is sometimes slower than the snappy episodes used to be – but the criticism which struck me the most came from feminists, who sniffed scornfully at what they described as supposedly strong, independent women falling apart when the men in their lives let them down.

There’s Carrie, who has masochistically kept going back to the man who has treated her badly more than once, having to endure perhaps a woman’s worst humiliation at the hands of Mr Big when he leaves her stranded at the altar.

Does any woman out there blame her for furiously attacking him with her bouquet? (A more vicious woman would have probably attacked him with a sharp object).

Miranda has softened her hard-nosed corporate lawyer image and grudgingly settled for life in (oh my God) Brooklyn with her rather wimpy husband, Steve. But juggling motherhood and career has left her worn out and despondent. When she learns that Steve has had a one-night stand because the sex in their marriage has fizzled out, it is the last straw. Deeply hurt by this betrayal, she promptly walks out and refuses to forgive him.

Even Samantha, who once used to brag about how she was the type of woman who “had sex like a man” has, by her own horrified admission, turned into a woman “who waits for a man to come home”. Living in LA with her toy boy who has now become a hot Hollywood star, Samantha’s life revolves around him. With too much time on her hands, she is tempted by the hot guy next door, but resolving not to slip back into her old ways, she turns to food. “I’d rather eat than cheat,” she glumly admits as the others notice her expanding waistline.

The only one who seems to “have it all” is the permanently prim and bouncy Charlotte who finally has the family she has always dreamed of (although it seems that she has sacrificed her career to have it). But even she has her moments of panic as she confesses that, despite her happiness, she lives in a state of near terror that something will go wrong.

So what is it with these women, feminists (and men) are probably muttering? Can’t they just get on with their lives, be grateful for what they have and stop moaning? Ah, but then there wouldn’t be any need for a movie. But also, in truth, SATC has given us a slice of the reality we live in: we are always wanting what we don’t have and when we get it we are not sure why we wanted it in the first place.

The reason I enjoyed this movie is that, once you peel away the outlandish fashion, the glamorous locations of Manhattan, LA and Mexico and Samantha’s perfect body, what you get is four women who could be any of us, really.

Haven’t we all met women who start off wanting a simple wedding but then get carried away by “The Dress” until the wedding spins out of control and it becomes, as Mr Big aptly describes it, a circus? (I’ve always felt that the reason women get so crazy about weddings is because it gives them the chance to wear The Dress. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to live the Cinderella fantasy with everyone’s attention focused on the bride. Take away The Dress, and what you have is just another party).

On the other side of the coin is Miranda, who was reluctantly talked into marriage, and is now bitter about the whole thing. “Marriage ruins everything,” she scathingly tells Mr Big the night before his wedding.

He already has cold feet and that’s all he needs to tip him over the edge.

With two failed marriages already behind him, you don’t really blame Mr Big for worrying that perhaps he is making a “Big” mistake.

Does marriage ruin a relationship? I, for one, have no basis for comparison, never having waltzed down the aisle myself. All I can say is that, vows or no vows, relationships and commitment are always a challenge, and we have the debris of marriages hitting the rocks all around us to prove it – even though both sides would have solemnly promised, “till death do us part”.

The fact is no haute couture dress can cushion you from the reality of the compromises you have to make when you share your life with someone else.

Perhaps if people went into marriage with a little more soul-searching about what they really expect of marriage, and compare notes with their other half, there would be less broken hearts. I think some couples take this major life-changing event too lightly – more thought seems to go into choosing their wedding China than into choosing the man/woman they plan to spend the rest of their lives with.

SATC handles the subject well: so despite its comic moments, there is no attempt to downplay or gloss over the extent of Carrie’s devastation at being jilted. I think every woman in the cinema could relate to that moment when she takes off her sunglasses to reveal a gaunt face and swollen, red-rimmed eyes, the result of endless crying. When she crawls into bed and asks her friends to shut out all the sunlight pouring through the windows, our hearts go out to her. Haven’t we all had moments when we have hit rock bottom, and our only solution is to escape into the nothingness of sleep?

Miranda meanwhile, is struggling with her own conflicting emotions as her wounded pride prevents her from forgiving Steve this one indiscretion. Always the voice of feminism in the TV series, she furiously yells at Steve, “I changed myself for you”. It is this kind of statement which lies at the real heart of the movie: how far do you compromise, how much do you change before you lose yourself in this ‘thing’ called a relationship? How much are you willing to forgive and what is or is not forgivable?

Each character in the movie has to answer these questions for herself, and their heartfelt talks – which is the glue that keeps them together – allow them to explore their feelings as they pour out their woes. It is the kind of endless analysis which gives most men headaches (“why do you have to analyse everything?” I’m often asked by the man in my life).

But it is also the reason why female relationships are unique and cannot easily be understood by the average male. And, frankly, if there is anything which celebrates sisterhood and feminism, it is the special magic of having those lifelong friends.

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