The Envy of (Most) All.
We watch The New Girl with indescribable envy, wondering if the same perfectly chopped bangs, cute polka-dotted aprons, and bright red lipstick would attract roommates as ironically appealing as the scruffy bartender guy. (This author writes:) The Manic Pixie Dream Girl is now an indie-film cliché, more a collection of quirks than a person, who exists to be the perfect love interest for the male protagonist. So we try it out - the colorfully-rimmed spectacles and bright tights - seeking the "shy, sad, creative boys and [to] teach them to enjoy life again though ... love and various activities done in the rain" only to find, time and time again, that the Zooey's and the (Garden State's) Natalie's are, in fact, unrealistic replicas of Anthropologie ads crossed with Fictional-Brooklyn-As-Depicted-On-TV, where local dives (like Washington Commons) are named dropped in inaccurate neighborhoods (I'm talking to you, Girls), and real life is a lot less colorful. Enjoy!
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