Sarah Jessica Parker Claps Back at Haters Criticizing Her Gorgeous Gray Hair

Sarah Jessica Parker is known for playing the fashionable character Carrie Bradshaw in the HBO show “Sex and the City.” However, the “Footloose” star often faces criticism for her real-life fashion choices.

Sarah Jessica Parker is famous for playing the stylish Carrie Bradshaw on the HBO show “Sex and the City.” During her time on the show, she became a fashion icon, inspiring women all over the world with her glamorous looks.

Many women looked up to her as a trendsetter, using fashion to express themselves and their feelings. However, in real life, Parker has never been as passionate about fashion. In a 2012 interview with People, she said that she doesn’t relate to her character’s fashion sense. She explained:

Source: Getty Images

“It’s not how I think of myself, and I think it’s probably the healthier approach.”

Parker likes nice clothes and beautiful things, but you won’t catch her in a tutu at the grocery store. She believes that fashion takes a backseat to life, especially since she has three kids. She stated:

Source: Getty Images

“It’s just not a reality — not when you have three kids, and you go to the market, and there are hungry people at home. You have a limited time to do it. There’s just no time to let vanity enter into that.”

People have often noticed her style choices. In an interview with Vogue, she mentioned that she finds it funny when people criticize her looks.

Source: Getty Images

Over the years, she has faced backlash for her fashion choices, including a much-discussed outfit at the Met Gala. Parker said that people borrow styles that resonate with them at different times, but some will always dislike them. She doesn’t understand why people criticize her choices. “So, what’s the point of the criticism?” she asked.

Parker has learned to ignore her critics. For her everyday outfits, she chooses what she likes without worrying too much about whether it matches.

“Unsexiest Woman Alive”

Parker also faced tough times when Maxim magazine named her “Unsexiest Woman Alive” because she doesn’t fit certain beauty standards, like getting Botox or having fuller lips. She felt that this title was harsh and hurtful, affecting her and her husband, actor Matthew Broderick.

Things got worse when paparazzi took unflattering pictures of Parker having lunch with TV host Andy Cohen. She was makeup-free with her gray hair showing, leading to negative comments about her age. Cohen defended her, pointing out that he has gray hair too and called the comments “misogynistic.”

Parker did not stay quiet about the criticism. During an interview with Vogue, she spoke about how people seem to enjoy seeing others struggle with aging. She said:

“It almost feels as if people don’t want us to be perfectly OK with where we are, as if they almost enjoy us being pained by who we are today.”

She added, “I know what I look like. I have no choice. What am I going to do about it? Stop aging? Disappear?”

However, this was not the last of the harsh comments. In 2018, she faced ridicule again after wearing an ornate headpiece to the Met Gala. People mocked her looks online, calling her a senior citizen.

Source: Getty Images

In June 2023, during a chat with Howard Stern, she discussed Hollywood’s obsession with cosmetic surgery and aging. When asked how she views herself, she said, “I’m presentable,” but added that she doesn’t enjoy looking in the mirror. She acknowledged that she thinks about cosmetic procedures but has never had plastic surgery, although she has tried skin treatments like peels.

Parker reflected on potentially getting a facelift at 44 but was uncertain about it. Stern expressed relief that she hadn’t gone through with it. She understands why some people choose procedures but knows that there is societal pressure about aging. She recalled the viral photo with Cohen, where people criticized her but ignored his gray hair.

Now in her late 50s, Parker remains unbothered by her critics and has clear thoughts on aging. She said in an August 2023 interview:

“I just don’t spend that much time [thinking about appearance]. It’s not that I don’t have an ego, that I don’t have a decent, healthy amount of vanity, but I just don’t want to spend that much time really deconstructing it all.”

Choosing Family over Fashion

Despite facing criticism over her fashion choices, Parker prioritizes her family. During New York Fashion Week in 2006, while others rushed to find the perfect outfits, she chose to stay home with her family. Her son James had just started school, and she wanted to be there for him.

Now, attending events is challenging since she has three kids. She and Broderick welcomed their first child, James Wilkie, on October 28, 2002, and he is now a student at Brown University. Their twins, Tabitha and Marion, were born on June 23, 2009, through a surrogate.

Though some fans criticize her, Broderick remains supportive. He often praises Parker’s beauty and feels lucky to be with her.

They married in a surprise ceremony on May 19, 1997, and have been happy ever since. Parker mentioned that their relationship thrives because they spend time apart and then come back together. She said on a podcast:

Source: Getty Images

“I know this sounds nuts, but we have lives that allow us to be away and come back together.”

Broderick often shares how much he admires Parker, recalling their first date and how he remembers her clearly walking toward him.

Despite the negative comments and criticism, Parker feels secure in her relationship, partly due to Broderick’s constant support. He calls her “just a great, beautiful, hilarious person!”

A 6-Year-Old Boy in a Shelter Noticed a Poor Teenage Girl Watching Him Through the Fence Every Day

Every day at the shelter, six-year-old Mike, who didn’t know his parents had died, waited for them to come back. One day, he noticed a poor teenage girl standing outside the fence, silently watching him. He didn’t know it yet, but she wasn’t just watching him — she was WAITING for him.

Mike was only four when his life had shattered in ways no child should ever experience. He had spent that day at the neighbor’s house, playing with blocks and eating peanut butter sandwiches, completely unaware that it would be the last normal day of his life.

When the crash happened, he wasn’t there to hear the screech of tires or the crumpling of metal. He didn’t see the flashing red and blue lights that lit up the dark street. He didn’t feel the weight of the world shifting beneath him when his parents were declared dead.

A sad little boy holding an elephant plushie | Source: Midjourney

A sad little boy holding an elephant plushie | Source: Midjourney

All he knew was that later that night, the neighbor — a kind but visibly shaken woman — took his small hand and said, “You’ll be staying with me tonight, okay, sweetheart?”

He’d nodded, clutching his stuffed elephant, Jumbo. “Where are Mommy and Daddy?”

“They’ll be back soon,” she’d whispered, her voice trembling as she offered a silent apology he’d never hear.

“But I want them now,” Mike’s lower lip quivered. “They always tuck me in. Daddy does the funny voices for my bedtime story.”

The neighbor pulled him close, her tears threatening to fall. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

A woman embracing a heartbroken little boy | Source: Unsplash

A woman embracing a heartbroken little boy | Source: Unsplash

“Can you call them?” Mike asked, his small fingers gripping his elephant tighter.

The neighbor’s breath caught in her throat. “Not tonight, honey. How about I read you a story instead?”

“No. I want Mommy and Daddy to come back for me,” Mike sobbed, his eager eyes glued to the front gate, as if willing them to appear.

But they didn’t come back. Not that night, not the next day… not ever.

Mike didn’t remember much from the days that followed, except that the neighbor’s house felt cold and strange. People he didn’t know came and went, speaking in hushed tones and avoiding his wide, questioning eyes. And then, one day, a lady with soft brown curls and a kind smile arrived. Her name was Brenda, and she was the one who took him to the shelter.

A little boy standing outside a shelter | Source: Midjourney

A little boy standing outside a shelter | Source: Midjourney

Time fluttered by like leaves on the breeze, but Mike’s hope of seeing his parents again never dwindled.

“Will my Mommy and Daddy really come for me?” he asked again, the same question he’d been asking Brenda every day for the past two years.

Mike’s big blue eyes stared up at her with so much hope that it made her chest tighten. She knelt down to meet his gaze, smoothing back a lock of his golden brown hair.

“I really believe they will,” she said softly, even though the truth clawed at the back of her throat.

Mike’s face lit up with a grin. “I believe it too!” he chirped, then bolted across the yard to join the other kids playing ball.

“Wait!” he suddenly stopped and ran back to her. “What if they come while I’m playing? What if they can’t find me?”

A desperate little boy looking up at someone | Source: Midjourney

A desperate little boy looking up at someone | Source: Midjourney

Brenda’s heart shattered. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll make sure they find you.”

“Promise?” His small hand reached for hers.

“I promise,” she whispered, squeezing his hand gently. “Now go play.”

Brenda stood there for a moment, swallowing hard. She hated this part of her job. Watching these kids cling to hope that would never be fulfilled — it broke her in ways she couldn’t even explain. But what else could she do? Tell him the truth that his parents would never come? No. He was too young.

A sad woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

Mike adjusted quickly to life at the shelter. He laughed, played, and made friends easily. But at night, when the other kids fell asleep, he’d sit by the window clutching his stuffed elephant, his small face pressed against the glass.

“Mommy, Daddy,” he’d whisper, as if they could somehow hear him. “When are you coming to take me home? I miss you.”

One particularly difficult night, his whispers turned to quiet sobs. “I’ll be really good, I promise. I won’t ask for any toys or candy. Please come back.”

Brenda tucked him back into bed, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She sat beside him, stroking his hair until he drifted off, all the while wishing she could give him the comfort he so desperately needed.

A distressed little boy lying in bed with his plushie | Source: Midjourney

A distressed little boy lying in bed with his plushie | Source: Midjourney

“Miss Brenda?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Do you think they forgot about me?”

Her hand froze mid-stroke. “Oh, Mike… No one could ever forget you.”

“Then why haven’t they come?” His voice was so small and broken.

Brenda gathered him in her arms, rocking him gently. “Sometimes, everything happens for a reason we can’t understand. But that doesn’t mean you’re not loved.”

Close-up shot of a woman holding a little boy's hand | Source: Pixabay

Close-up shot of a woman holding a little boy’s hand | Source: Pixabay

By the time Mike turned six, he had become a bit of a bright spot at the shelter. He had a way of lifting everyone’s spirits, from the kids to the staff. But no one missed the way his smile faltered when the older kids were picked up by foster families or adopted.

“Do you think my parents will come today?” he’d ask Brenda, his voice full of the same innocent hope. And she’d answer the same way every time: “I really believe they will.”

Days passed. One warm spring afternoon, Mike noticed her for the first time. He was in the middle of kicking a ball around with a group of kids when something made him look toward the fence. There she was — a teenage girl, around 16, standing just outside the chain-link barrier.

A teenage girl standing near a fence | Source: Midjourney

A teenage girl standing near a fence | Source: Midjourney

She wasn’t like the other adults who sometimes stopped to watch. She didn’t have that pitying look people got when they saw the kids in the yard. She just… stared at Mike. Quiet. Focused.

Her clothes were old and tattered, her hair messy and unkempt. But her eyes — they were dark and intense, locked on Mike like she knew him. He stopped kicking the ball. For a moment, the world around him seemed to fade as he stared back at her.

“Mike!” one of the kids yelled, breaking his focus. “Come on, we’re losing!”

“Who is she?” Mike whispered to himself, unable to look away.

He shook his head, snapped out of the moment, and went back to playing. But when he glanced back at the fence, she was still there.

A curious boy staring at someone | Source: Midjourney

A curious boy staring at someone | Source: Midjourney

The girl became a constant visitor. Every afternoon, like clockwork, she’d show up at the same spot outside the fence, watching Mike as he played. She never said a word, never tried to approach him. She just stood there.

One day, another child noticed her too. “Mike, that girl keeps looking at you. Do you know her?”

The question hit him like a punch to the gut. “No,” he said, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

Mike never told anyone about her. A part of him was curious, but another part was scared to find out who she was and why she was there.

Eventually, Mike was placed with the Smiths. They were a kind middle-aged couple who didn’t have kids of their own. They did their best to make him feel at home, decorating his new room with posters of superheroes and giving him a soccer ball to play with in the backyard.

A kind couple hugging a little boy | Source: Pexels

A kind couple hugging a little boy | Source: Pexels

“Do you like your room, Mike?” Mrs. Smith asked nervously on his first night.

He nodded, clutching his stuffed elephant. “It’s nice. Thank you.”

“We can change anything you don’t like,” Mr. Smith added quickly. “We want you to feel at home here.”

Mike’s eyes welled up unexpectedly. “Can I… can I keep my elephant?”

Mrs. Smith rushed to his side. “Oh, sweetheart, of course you can! This is your home now, and everything in it is yours.”

At first, Mike was shy around them, but over time, he opened up. He started calling them “Mom” and “Dad,” though a part of him still clung to the memories of his real parents.

A heartbroken boy looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

A heartbroken boy looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

One day, during a quiet moment with Mrs. Smith, Mike (now 8 years old), asked the question he had avoided for years.

“Did my parents really die?”

Her face softened as she pulled him into her lap. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

“I kept waiting,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Every single day at the shelter, I waited. I overheard you talking to Dad… about the car crash. Why didn’t anyone tell me the truth?”

“Oh, Mike…” Mrs. Smith held him tighter.

Mike buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing quietly. It was the first time he truly understood what had happened, and the weight of it crushed him.

A boy crying | Source: Pexels

A boy crying | Source: Pexels

For the next two years, Mike found stability with the Smiths. But no matter how good they were to him, there was always a part of him that felt incomplete.

Mike was ten when he returned to the shelter for the first time since leaving. The Smiths had told him they wanted to donate some of his old clothes and toys, and he’d insisted on coming along.

Walking through the front doors brought back a flood of memories. The smell of the place, the sound of kids laughing in the yard — it was all so familiar.

“Mike?” a familiar voice called out. “Is that really you?”

Miss Brenda greeted him with a warm smile, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’ve grown so much, young man!” she said, brushing a tear from her cheek.

A boy in the corridor | Source: Midjourney

A boy in the corridor | Source: Midjourney

“Miss Brenda!” Mike hugged her back fiercely. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart. Are you happy? The Smiths are treating you well?”

Mike nodded enthusiastically. “They’re really nice. But…” he hesitated. “I still think about before. About my parents.”

Brenda’s eyes softened with understanding. “That’s okay, Mike. That’s perfectly normal.”

As they caught up, one of the staff members poked her head into the room. “Brenda, can you come here for a second?”

Brenda glanced at Mike. “Wait here, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

A woman looking at someone and smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at someone and smiling | Source: Midjourney

Mike wandered the room, looking at the photos on the walls. Then, the door opened, and Brenda stepped back in.

“Mike, there’s someone here to see you,” she said gently.

He frowned. “Who?”

When the door opened wider, his heart stopped.

There she was. The same girl from the fence.

She looked different now — older, taller, and more vibrant. Her hair was clean, her clothes neat and well-fitted. But her eyes were the same, dark and intense, locked on him like they had been all those years ago.

A young woman smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney

A young woman smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney

“Who are you?” Mike asked.

The girl stepped forward, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. “My name is Angela,” she said softly. “I… I’m your sister.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “What?” He stumbled backward slightly. “No, that’s… that’s not possible.”

Angela took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Your father… he was my father too. From his first marriage.”

“Stop,” Mike whispered, shaking his head. “You’re lying. Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying, Mike,” Angela’s voice cracked. “I’ve been watching over you for years. You were always playing with that stuffed elephant. You used to wear a blue t-shirt almost every day. You taught the younger kids how to play soccer.”

Mike’s heart raced as he tried to make sense of her words. “But… I never knew I had a sister.”

A shocked boy | Source: Midjourney

A shocked boy | Source: Midjourney

“You didn’t,” Angela said, her voice breaking. “Your father left me and my mom when I was ten. He never told you about us. We had nothing after he left… no money, no home. My mom died a few years ago. And after that, I was on my own.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “One day, I saw Dad with you and your mom. I followed you, and that’s how I found out you were my little brother. After the accident… after they died, I found out you were here. I watched you every day, Mike. I wanted to come for you, but I had nothing to give you. I wasn’t ready.”

“All those days at the fence…” Mike’s voice trembled. “That was you?”

Angela nodded, wiping away tears. “I couldn’t leave you alone. I couldn’t.”

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

Mike’s chest felt tight as he listened, his hands clenching at his sides. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared,” Angela admitted. “But I made a promise to myself that I’d work hard, get a job, and save enough to take care of you. I’ve been working as a waitress, saving every penny I could. And now… I’m here to take you home.”

Mike stared at her, his emotions swirling. “I thought I was alone. When I found out my parents were gone, I thought I didn’t have anyone.”

“You were never alone,” Angela choked out. “Every day, every single day, I was there. Watching. Waiting. Hoping I could be good enough for you.”

Mike took a step forward, then another. “You… you really want me?”

“More than anything in the world,” Angela sobbed. “You’re my little brother, Mike. You’re my family.”

A boy overwhelmed with emotions | Source: Midjourney

A boy overwhelmed with emotions | Source: Midjourney

Mike burst into tears and ran into her arms. Angela pulled him into a hug, both of them crying as years of grief and loneliness poured out of them.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his hair. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

“You’re here now,” Mike mumbled against her shoulder. “You’re here now.”

Angela got custody of Mike a few months later. The process wasn’t easy, but she somehow convinced the Smiths and fought for Mike’s custody with everything she had.

Grayscale shot of a woman walking with a boy on a rainy day | Source: Pexels

Grayscale shot of a woman walking with a boy on a rainy day | Source: Pexels

The first night in their small and cozy apartment, Mike looked around at the modest space adorned with a worn couch, a small kitchen, and a secondhand bed. He smiled.

“It’s perfect,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Angela asked nervously. “It’s not much. Nothing like what the Smiths could give you…”

Mike turned to her, his eyes serious. “But it’s ours, right?”

“Yes,” Angela’s voice cracked. “It’s ours.”

She sat beside him, brushing his hair back. “We don’t have much, but we have each other. That’s enough, right?”

Mike nodded, clutching his stuffed elephant — the last reminder of his old life. “It’s more than enough.”

A boy clutching an elephant plushie | Source: Midjourney

A boy clutching an elephant plushie | Source: Midjourney

“I promise you, Mike,” Angela whispered, pulling him close. “From now on, you’ll never have to wonder if someone’s coming back for you. I’m here. And I’m staying. Always.”

Mike snuggled into her side, finally feeling complete. “I know,” he said softly. “I can feel it.”

That night, for the first time in years, Mike didn’t sit by the window waiting for someone to come. He didn’t need to anymore. His family was already there. Beside him.

Night view of a cottage window from a breathtaking garden | Source: Midjourney

Night view of a cottage window from a breathtaking garden | Source: Midjourney

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