What starts off as a promising Sex And The City-alike, showing black American women as more than the usual big momma/curvy fox characters, soon descends into racism in Prada.
When a successful lawyer falls in love with a man who isn’t her type (he’s white) she soon finds one who is (he’s black), and finds that she has a tough choice to make. “You don’t get how hard it is for me being black,” she moans to her henpecked (and suspiciously quiet) lover, and indeed we don’t. Nothing in this woman’s comfortable life shows problems arising from race except those which come from herself, her family and friends. If this is supposed to be a twist on US racial struggles, it fails woefully.