For some, it’s been four lonely years without the girls from Sex and the City. There have been numerous wannabes – Desperate Housewives, Cashmere Mafia, Lipstick Jungle, Gossip Girl – but none of them have managed to capture the same magic that is SATC.

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m a fan, so if you’re looking for a critical review of the movie, you’ll probably – spoiler alert! – dry-humping the wrong pillow.

My first brush with the series was in 1998 when I was still an undergraduate. Back then, Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte – with their tumultuous love lives, chic outfits (barring the innerwear-as-outerwear trend), sassy chatter and Cosmopolitan-sipping ways – represented everything a modern woman stood for. A decade later, I haven’t drastically altered my view.

Luckily, little has changed since the series left off four years ago. Carrie still lusts after shoes the same way she gushes over Big (sorry Aidan, you didn’t stand a chance), except these days the seesaw that is their relationship is starting to even out a little. Miranda still puts up with Magda’s nagging, except it now takes place in Brooklyn. Charlotte continues to be Little Miss Perfect (if you can discount one very embarrassing mishap while holidaying in Mexico) living a fairytale life with Harry and their adopted daughter Lily. Meanwhile, good old Samantha hasn’t stopped – buzzword alert – ‘colouring’ with boytoy Smith Jerrod, nor has she stopped lusting after the young ones.

It all sounds terribly familiar, and it is – but instead of 45 minutes, you have two hours and 20 minutes of unadulterated entertainment all wrapped up in fabulous designer clothes and to-die-for shoes. The extras include a full-on Vogue photo shoot complete with cameos by André Leon Talley and Plum Sykes, and of course, a handful of hot sex scenes, surprisingly not (directly) involving Ms Jones.

While you can criticise the film for sticking to formulae, there is a saying: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. And leaving it unfixed is exactly what the writers have done, using razor-sharp dialogue (one of the series’ best elements) to prop up a script that contains very few mouth-gaping plot twists, a more realistic (read: less sexy) take on life – after all, the girls aren’t dating anymore – and very minor character development. The getups certainly help to keep the entertainment level high. Predictably, there is some fabulous shoe candy courtesy of the usual suspects: Choo, Blahnik, Giuseppe and Louboutin; a prolonged love-fest to an over-the-top – quote alert! – ‘ring with diamonds, not a diamond ring!’; a parade of wedding gowns that would make even the most hardened bride-hater weep, and bridesmaid dresses that aren’t frumpy but downright flattering.

If, like me, you feel a certain emotional bond with any of the four, there will be a few unforgettable scenes that will have you reeling from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other. You’ll laugh hysterically at Charlotte’s accidental poop; feel all choked up when Carrie criss-crosses town by subway to spend New Year’s Eve with Miranda; emerge victorious (pump-your-fist-in-the-air style) when Carrie finally unleashes a decade of angst, disappointment and wounded pride on Big.

In the end, the film is a keeper because it does what it has always done well: capture the close bonds of female kinship and reiterate the responsibilities that come with being a true friend to someone else. With friends like Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha, a girl could want for nothing else...Okay, I lie, maybe just that pair of peacock-blue Blahniks.

Charlene Fang

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Ever wonder what the four lovely ladies of Sex and the City have to say about their long-awaited film? So did we. Let the role-playing begin…

Carrie Bradshaw, writer, NYC
Overall, fabulous – the shoes, the clothes, my closet! I couldn’t be happier with how it turned out. I also couldn’t have done it without my girls…well, except for Miranda. I may have told her the wedding débâcle wasn’t her fault, but honestly, it was. Though I’m keeping my mouth shut for the sake of the group; I also don’t want her son Brady to think Mommy’s a b*tch. Maybe I’ll write about it in my fifth book: Love, Marriage and Viagra – Your 50s and Beyond.

Time to throw on my pearls and get to bed – looking forward to a new day with my favourite lady: Manhattan.

Samantha Jones, publicist, LA
I can’t believe I broke up with Smith. Even though I look smokin’ hot for 5-0, in retrospect I think he might have been a keeper. Maybe he would’ve even agreed to a ménage à trois with the neighbour, Dante Diggler. Oh well, time heals all wounds – time, booze and a coterie of new man toys. Who am I kidding? ‘I love myself, I think I’m grand, and when I sleep, I hold my hand.’ As the only swinging single left among the four of us, it is on my shoulders to keep the spirit of free love alive, and of course by love I mean lovin’. Well, I’ve got people to do and lots to see – ciao darlings.

Miranda Hobbes, lawyer, Brooklyn
The only reason why I’m writing this is just so the girls won’t accuse me of being a bushy-Amazonian, career-minded b*tch. Sometimes I wonder whether they know just how busy I am; I don’t even have time to have sex with my husband. (Then he goes and cheats on me, while all I’m trying to do is make a living and raise a child and deal with Magda and… Ahhh!) And that whole fiasco with Carrie and Big, yes, I admit, what I said was stupid. But honestly, must they always be soooo dramatic? I was in a bad mood! It happens! Get over it!

Enough of my whining, I’ve got to… Brady! Put that down, how many times do I have to tell you... Steve, don’t just stand there, do something!

Charlotte York-Goldenblatt, home-maker, NYC
It seems I’m the luckiest of us all. I mean, as I said, I’m happy pretty much every day, so it was just awful seeing Carrie and Miranda go through their ordeals. I’m hoping my unfortunate ‘incident’ in Mexico might have been my fair share of bad luck for the year (plus I had to throw out my favourite running pants). Still, it’s not as bad as Carrie’s wedding day, of course – what Big did to her broke my heart. He also broke my water too, let’s not forget! So Harry and I are now the proud parents of two – if only I could get Samantha to tone down the language in front of my gorgeous girls…

Laura Dannen, Sabrina Lee, Alexis Ong and Georgia Reeve