As a journalism student who once imagined myself sipping overpriced lattes in my New York apartment after landing exclusive scoops — thanks to watching too many 2000s rom-coms featuring female journalists — I’ve come to realize that Hollywood’s portrayal of journalism is about as realistic as a Hallmark movie.
It all started with journalist icon Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and The City, who heavily inspired my path into J-school. Her fantastical life as a columnist in New York City convinced me it was entirely possible to afford designer clothes and a Manhattan apartment on a writer’s salary. Walking the city streets in Manolo Blahnik heels, penning her musings on love and life at her window sill, as if that were the defining principle of “true journalism” — I hate to admit it, but I fell for it.
Bradshaw is just one of many fictional journalists that I grew to admire. Films are filled with portrayals of glamorous female journalists living fast-paced, exciting lives, full of adorable meet-cutes and last-minute free flights all over the world.
These movies are a love letter to the fantasy of journalism — where you’re always on the cusp of whirlwind romances and somehow make a living by writing one column a week with full creative freedom.
Spoiler alert: real journalism has been way less glamorous and involves a lot more coffee.
But, despite the completely unrealistic portrayals, here are three fictional characters who inspired me to become a journalist.
Carrie Bradshaw: ‘Sex and the City’
It would be impossible — and frankly, a disservice — not to mention Bradshaw’s character from Sex and The City when talking about the characters that inspired me to pursue journalism. She was the ultimate embodiment of why I thought a career in journalism was my perfect match. Watching Carrie navigate New York City while penning weekly columns on love, life, and relationships made me think, “This is it, this is the life I want.”
The idea of crafting my own musings and diary-like entries all over New York seemed like a dream. I can’t recall a single moment where Bradshaw stressed over deadlines. Instead, she seemed more focused on writing her next witty, introspective piece whenever inspiration struck.
Sure, her love life was a hot mess at times (the break-up sticky note being one of many instances). But it still gave us some of her most iconic moments — gazing at the New York skyline, soft jazz playing in the background as she delivered the most dramatic monologues. She clocked in only to gaze out her window longingly, never once worrying about an editor harassing her about story deadlines.
Bradshaw had it all. No matter how “broke” she claimed to be, she always wore the most extravagant outfits, often mixing high fashion with quirky vintage finds. And it wasn’t just her wardrobe that was enviable — every art gallery opening, exclusive party, and secret soirée in New York seemed to be at her fingertips.
Bradshaw’s journalism wasn’t exactly hard-hitting news or long-form investigative pieces but rather late-night ruminations and iconic one-liners all across New York. She convinced me that journalism would be like running a little blog while dramatically channelling my inner heartbreak — with a cocktail always in reach.
Jenna Rink: ’13 Going on 30′
If Bradshaw was my inspiration for becoming a columnist, Jenna Rink was the blueprint for fashion magazine journalism.
13 Going on 30 is one of my all-time favourite romantic comedies, and I often refer to it as the Godfather of the rom-com genre.
13-year-old Rink wakes up in her 30-year-old body, working a job at the magazine Poise — Chaos, comedy, and cluelessness all seem to work together as she navigates the world of high fashion. Mix that in with vibrant colourful 2000s outfits, young Mark Ruffalo as a romantic lead, and a nostalgic soundtrack — it’s no wonder I fell in love with the film’s portrayal of “being a journalist.”
I always thought journalism (or at least working for a magazine) meant you got to spend your time attending fabulous launch parties and creating the most creative and glittery magazine spreads all over New York. But real journalism often involves fact-checking, endless emails, and gruelling hours of editing content that never seems to properly save — nothing like the glittery rom-com montage I once imagined my life to be.
And to my disappointment, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” has yet to play at any of the magazine events I’ve attended — and no one has ever broken out into even a slight dance either.
Rink spends most of the film gallivanting across New York with her best friend Matt, searching for magazine inspiration, which seemed like the dream job for the younger me — as an avid enthusiast of all things New York and Mark Ruffalo.
Little did I know that real editors spend most of their time confined to windowless offices arguing over page layouts, fonts, and headlines super late into the night. But if someone with the mentality of a 13-year-old can land a job at an editorial magazine, surely I can, too, right?
Andie Anderson: ‘How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days’
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days had me convinced I would be assigned wild story assignments all in the name of “journalism.”
Despite my many semesters in J-school, I’ve yet to receive an assignment involving fake-dating Matthew McConaughey or any sort of dramatic romantic escapades for a grade.
Andie Anderson tests out relationship strategies in the hopes of driving a guy away within 10 days for journalistic “research.” We watch her act intentionally clingy — buying potential pictures of their future children, initiating a relationship with his mother, re-decorating his entire apartment, sneaking into the guys’ poker night, and essentially acting like a complete maniac, all in the name of journalism, of course!
Most of the journalism assignments I’ve received are much less thrilling — writing hard news articles, interviewing highly reluctant streeters, or chasing down sources. Add in the constant deadlines every week with loads of caffeine fueling my weekly all-nighters, and it’s not all that glamorous. I’ve spent more time slumped over my computer on Premiere Pro than undercover dating or singing a duet of “You’re So Vain” with McConaughey.
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days might make journalism look like a dream job with its wildly unethical journalism assignments and stream of glamorous outfits, but its entire premise is far-fetched from the reality of journalism. Yet I’m still holding out hope that one day J-school will send me on my own adventure — fingers crossed.
While the fantasy may be just that — fantasy — it hasn’t stopped me from falling even more in love with real journalism. There’s a rewarding feeling that comes with giving people a voice and shining a light on stories that deserve to be told — even if it’s not as glamorous as the life of Bradshaw, Rink, or fake-dating McConaughey.
The work we do as journalists can be just as fulfilling and rewarding as our favourite journalists in 2000s rom-coms–as long as we account for the heavy caffeine consumption and lingering deadlines as part of that fantasy.