As in ‘‘Sex and the City,’’ this series features Carrie’s arch, epigrammatic narration. She describes the scene at school with ‘‘everyone passing around news of the day like mono after a homecoming dance,’’ then adds, ‘‘I realized that I was the virus no one wanted to get near: the freak who had lost her mom.’’
In this bygone era, a sparkling design sense prevails. The soundtrack throbs with period tunes ("Material World,’’ ‘'Burning Down the House,’’ ‘'Bette Davis Eyes").
Carrie meets a new student (Austin Butler), whom she fancies. But an even bigger crush is Manhattan, where she lands an internship and meets an exciting mentor: the way-cool style editor at Interview magazine (Freema Agyeman). Carrie declares that the ‘‘man’’ she'll be losing her virginity to is Manhattan.
That’s three decades ago.
Fifteen years ago in a SoHo restaurant five minutes away, Sarah Jessica Parker was having lunch with this same reporter as she worried how viewers would receive ‘‘Sex and the City,’’ her new show.
‘‘We want the audience to see this as provocative and sophisticated, not gratuitous and vulgar,’’ she said.
Mission accomplished. Now ‘‘The Carrie Diaries’’ arrives as a prelude, with sweetness and a sense of wonder radiated by its luminous young star.
‘‘I felt like this was a character that I would be able to play for a long time,’’ says Robb, the new Carrie Bradshaw. ‘‘I will be able to grow with her.’’
EDITOR'S NOTE — Frazier Moore is a national television columnist for The Associated Press. He can be reached at fmoore(at)ap.org and at http://www.twitter.com/tvfrazier