This And Just Like That recap contains mild spoilers for season two, episode one, “Met Cute.” 

The weirdest thing that happened to me, between seasons of And Just Like That, is that I found myself getting into a not insignificant number of arguments defending Che Diaz. Not just because Che Diaz has Sara Ramirez’s face (though that doesn’t hurt), and not just because nonbinary butch representation is a more essential than ever, but also because, in my memory, it honestly wasn’t that bad? Sure, Che fingered Miranda in Carrie’s kitchen while Carrie peed into a Snapple bottle two feet away because Miranda was meant to be taking care of her, post-surgery. That was bad. And Che Diaz did have that WOKE MOMENT button on their podcast, which was, I admit, a kind of inanimate distillation of Che’s entire personality. Also bad. And I have blocked out all the stand-up, but that’s because I block out all stand-up, fictional and otherwise. There were a lot of good things about Che too, though, right? They woke up Miranda’s entire sexuality! They’re the only one who brought a handkerchief to Big’s funeral! Their suits! The main problem with Che, I kept saying, is that they were trying to have real conversations about hard things inside the elaborately outrageous world of Sex and the City — of course they don’t fit in!

Well, And Just Like That season two has arrived, and Che Diaz is with Miranda in Los Angeles, filming their new show. It’s about Che’s life as a nonbinary Mexican-Irish comedian, and it’s called ¿CHE PASA? — so I don’t know, man.

¿Che pasa?

😍

What I do know is that straight people were constantly complaining that there wasn’t enough sex or fashion last year, so AJLT kicks off its sophomore twirl around the sun with a lot of banging and also a trip to the Met Gala, which everyone keeps calling the “Met Ball,” like when commercials say “the Big Game” because they don’t have the rights to use the words “Super Bowl.” But let’s start with the sex!

Miranda and Che are borkin’ in the hot tub and feelin’ just fine! So fine, in fact, that Miranda decides she’s gonna strap it on for Che Diaz, so she goes to the sex toy story and buys, like, one of every dildo and an elaborate harness and various other accoutrements. While she and Che talk to Carrie on speakerphone about her dating life — she’s sleeping with Franklin from the podcast, on Thursdays — Miranda wriggles into the harness and samples a variety of dicks. She says the whole contraption reminds her of a cat toy, thereby proving that she’s never interacted with a cat or a toy. She doesn’t know, honestly, if she’s into the strap-on, physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc. But Che’s got a bit of a “hup to!” attitude about the whole thing, like she’s commanding a marching band or a pony. Miranda ultimately decides she’d rather just go to dinner than try to figure out the dicks. She’s already nearly drowned inside a sensory deprivation chamber; that’s enough new stuff for one day.

I got tickets to the Sparks game, I’m making her gayer every day!

Miranda’s worried that Che’s just with her for the sex, especially because Che’s being weird about Miranda hugging them at their comedy show, or trying to nuzzle them while they memorize their lines for ¿CHE PASA? in bed. But the truth is that Che’s being weird because they’re feeling weird, about their body, because Hollywood is brutal and every costume fitting is a referendum about how they shouldn’t wear jeans and they need a jacket over their t-shirts and whatever other fatphobia. The show’s got Che on a diet when they’re not forcing them into a sparkly blue clown town blazer, and it’s making them not want to be touched. Miranda might not know about straps, but she does know about misogynistic bullshit, so she consensually spoons Che and says they’re a beautiful person and that they should get a pizza about it. Hugs and pizza as trauma solving? Now that’s longterm queer relationship rep!

Carrie need to be her own Windkeeper! I’ve lost my boner.

When Charlotte accidentally discovers that Carrie’s hooking up with Franklin, she agrees to not be Charlotte about the whole thing. She aims for Samantha: “How big’s his dick?” which doesn’t feel right, so she swerves and tries on Miranda: “If you sleep with your co-workers, you give away your power!” It’s so spot-on that it’s literally what Miranda shouts when she finds out. But Carrie’s not interested in all that. She’s just looking for a casually sexy off-ramp from her grief, and maybe one new life skill, such as poaching an egg. Unfortunately, Franklin wants to add an occasional Tuesday into the mix, so Carrie has to figure out how to let him down gently and keep her boundaries firmly around Thursdays. Franklin understands; he’s just a placeholder until Aidan Shaw can arrive later this season, being the absolute worst as he always has been and will be.

Lisa Todd Wexley is still married to George Washington from Hamilton, and they’re still sexy as heck, but she is not here for him throwing around his big checkbook energy to solve her work problems. Dr. Nya and Andre Rashad are on a break, while he tours around doing music stuff and they try to figure out if there’s a future for them without kids. Seema’s dating that jackass club owner, Zed, who smokes cigarettes inside and still lives with his ex-wife. When Seema finds out about that last thing, she walks right out of lunch with his son to reclaim her spot as Carrie’s plus-one to the Met Ball.

Breathe in the pain, breathe out the fashion. Breathe in the pain, breathe out the fashion.

My god cis people are insane.

And, of course, Charlotte and Harry are still perfect for each other. He wants to go with her to the Met Ball because he thinks he’ll get to walk the red carpet with the stars and impress his co-workers with a selfie beside Rhianna. When Charlotte explains they’re only rich, not famous, so they have to go in the back door, he decides to stay home and watch the Yankees on TV. The kids sympathize with Charlotte; they’re the ones who had to break the news that Harry thought he was going as her date in the first place. She’d planned on taking Anthony. They even help her get ready. Lily’s not strong enough to lace Charlotte into her dress, so Charlotte has to beg Rock. They say they won’t be party to upholding the patriarchy and its heteronormative standards of beauty and Charlotte is like, “Honey, I understand, but right now Mommy needs your strong trans muscles to support your sister’s cis noodle arms to get this corset tight enough for my dress to zip.” Rock gives in because they do love their mom a whole lot.

Iconic.

There’s an absolutely classic Sex and the City shot of LTW crossing the street, stopping traffic, in her red dress with the giant veil and sweeping train. (“It’s not crazy. It’s Valentino.”) Seema heads out with her whole glam squad trailing behind her, all gold getting into a gold Benz. And Carrie, ultimately, decides to wear her wedding dress to the Met Gala. She says she’s repurposing her grief. It’s pretty perfect.

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