Nearly three decades after the debut of 'Sex and the City,' the author reflects on the enduring search for authentic female representation in media. While iconic characters like Carrie Bradshaw defined an era, many women, including the author, struggled to fully identify with their seemingly flawless portrayals. This essay posits that true insight into the complexities and self-doubt of modern womanhood can be found not in these aspirational figures, but in the less glamorous, yet remarkably honest, world of Cathy Guisewite's comic strip, 'Cathy.' First appearing in 1976, 'Cathy' offered a raw and often humorous look at a single woman navigating the pressures of diet culture, familial relationships, career challenges, and the elusive quest for romantic connection. Despite facing criticism for its perceived sadness and specificity, the comic's themes, particularly Cathy's struggles with body image and her candid expression of vulnerability, continue to resonate deeply in contemporary society, challenging the often-superficial narratives of self-love and empowerment.
The cultural phenomenon of 'Sex and the City,' which premiered on HBO, established four distinct female archetypes—Carrie, Miranda, Samantha, and Charlotte—that became a staple in discussions about women and relationships. However, the author confesses to never fully aligning with any of them. Even Miranda, often seen as the more grounded and career-focused character, appeared too self-assured and conventionally attractive to truly embody the intricate self-doubts and uncertainties that many women experience. This sentiment highlights a broader desire for more nuanced and relatable female characters in popular culture, a gap that later shows like 'Fleabag' and 'Too Much' began to fill with their 'messier' protagonists.
To truly grasp the roots of this more candid portrayal of female experiences, the article suggests looking back to 1976. That year, amidst America's bicentennial celebrations and the founding of Apple Computer, Cathy Guisewite introduced her groundbreaking comic series, 'Cathy.' This comic strip, recently celebrated in a 50th-anniversary collection, presented a single woman consumed by dieting, maternal arguments, workplace frustrations, and a long-standing, often frustrating, romantic entanglement. While some critics deemed Cathy's world too melancholic and specific, the author argues that in today's context of prevalent diet fads, increasing family estrangement, and ambiguous romantic 'breadcrumbing,' Cathy's struggles offer a surprisingly relevant and insightful commentary on the female condition.
Guisewite herself explains that 'Cathy' served as a personal outlet to process the profound societal shifts women of her generation were undergoing. She felt caught between traditional expectations and emerging new roles, a confusion that became the genesis of her strip. As she heard from countless women, she realized this internal conflict was a shared experience, voiced either openly or in secret. This shared vulnerability is what allowed 'Cathy' to strike such a chord with its audience.
Naturally, some aspects of 'Cathy' haven't aged well, particularly the numerous jokes centered around the perceived horrors of water retention, reflecting outdated societal pressures on women. Yet, from the perspective of someone who once obsessively tracked calories and researched diets, the author finds herself perplexed by the modern insistence on 'loving yourself!!!' when it coexists with a pervasive cultural glorification of thinness. Cathy's relentless focus on her weight, while not explicitly feminist, rings with an undeniable truth about the internal battles many women face.
Guisewite poignantly observes that the modern emphasis on body positivity can, ironically, make people feel worse about themselves, making it harder to express genuine vulnerability. She argues that society now discourages acknowledging one's insecurities. Cathy, in contrast, was always refreshingly honest about her anxieties, articulating them rather than hiding behind a facade of confidence or performative declarations of self-acceptance. A 1978 strip perfectly encapsulates this, where Cathy's mother, friend, and date all tell her she's 'beautiful in your own special way,' to which she heartbreakingly retorts, 'I want to be beautiful in everyone else's way!'
Beyond the body image narratives, reviewing the 'Cathy' collection also reveals moments of tender familial affection. When Cathy isn't consumed by self-pity, she's navigating the complexities of feminist ideals from a daughter's viewpoint or finding solace at her mother's kitchen table, reverting to a childlike state. While it's easy to reduce Cathy to her desperate pursuit of male attention, an alternative interpretation suggests that the true emotional core of the comic lay in the profound bond between Cathy and her mother.
While one might wish Cathy had achieved more conventional successes throughout her 34-year run, it's worth remembering that her journey wasn't static. She eventually married Irving in 2005, and in Guisewite's final strip in 2010, Cathy was revealed to be pregnant with a daughter. Guisewite, now 75, humorously dismisses the idea of resurrecting Cathy for a daily comic, citing the demands of a daily deadline. However, she hints at the possibility of future writing that explores her current life stage, suggesting that Cathy's spirit of honest reflection may continue in new forms.