We live in a world of constant reruns, access to all programmes at all times, YouTube videos to scratch any minor itch and Instagram fan accounts devoted to the characters, the clothes, the men and all points in between.
Perhaps you do not remember or were simply not a fan of the original series, created by Darren Star and based on Candace Bushnell’s bestselling book of the same name about her and her female friends’ dating lives in New York.
It was this depiction of female closeness as much as anything more overtly eye-catching that made it beloved, and an enduring success.
That is what we want more of, and which the reboot seems to promise.
It has been great to see her make a name for herself with some fine performances since, in British TV drama especially, and you cannot help but feel that the all-round effect has been to allow us all – including Cattrall – to breathe a sigh of relief.
“You can’t bring people on the show and not let the camera be with them! These characters are all gifts to us.” A further prophylactic against talking the talk rather than walking the walk is that half of the writing staff are people of colour, including award-winning writer and comedian Samantha Irby.
It’s hard not to risk that most unfashionable – if not downright terrifying – of all post-2016 actions and start letting our expectations rise.
Berger’s Post-it note! Bloody Aidan! Carrie farting in front of Big! Samantha fishing her friend’s diaphragm out! Trey’s unreliable boners! David Duchovny as the high-school boyfriend in a treatment facility! Mikhail bleedin’ Baryshnikov suddenly turning up and knocking it out of the park as Aleksandr “You are … comic?” Petrovsky.
But it had emotional truth in abundance, and helped a generation of thirtysomethings identify and articulate their experiences in a way few shows had done before or managed since.
The stranglehold youth has had over television age is best summed up by the scene in 30 Rock in which Jenna Maroney is cast as the ailing mother of a Gossip Girl-type character.
But the stranglehold is starting to loosen – if not because of great leaps in progressive thinking then because of the power vacuums left by male titans of the industry who were finally toppled by #MeToo revelations and whose projects were ruined in the falls.
The grand hope for And Just Like That … is surely that the cast and writers can reproduce for another generation – though it remains their generation – everything meaningful that lay beneath the extravagant fashion, glamorous cocktailing and proliferating brunches that made it all such fun to watch.
And if their next round of adventures looped back to tie up a few loose ends, too, let the record show that there is still space in my heart for that.