What happens when you place an advert saying absolutely any old Josephine Bloggs on the street can turn up to audition for a place on Sex And The City the sequel? A line of competitively glamorous girls, of course. There was the Charlotte type, clutching a Chanel and Louis Vuitton bag (because one's not enough when you're playing the part of was Park Avenue Princess, is it?). The dressed-down and don't-give-a-damn Miranda pretender, who nonchalantly passed her time in the queue reading a book. The Samantha wannabe in gold lamé American Apparel – natch. But where were our beloved fashion innovator Carrie Bradshaw types? We knew we should have pinned on our giant corsages and got that tutu ballet leotard out of storage and made a trip across the Atlantic. We'll have to console ourselves by looking at the wannabe line-up of Manolos, Louboutins and high-street heels – and thank our lucky stars we didn't suffer hours of stiletto burn just to get our moment on stage to say ‘I couldn't help but wonder...'