The hit US TV show Sex And The City is to be re-made Britain. ZOE WALKER wonders what the show would be like if it was set in York

A BRITISH version of the US TV show Sex And The City is to go into production. It will be called Denial and filming starts in London in late June, with Rachel Hunter, New Zealand model and former Mrs Rod Stewart, at the helm.

The success of the original US show, which follows the glamorous but complex lives of four Manhattan women, has been phenomenal. It has appealed to a generation of women whose working lives are more stressful than at any other time in living memory, their disposable incomes and expectations higher, their appetites for booze, fashion and men more voracious.

The lifestyles of Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha captivated British audiences. But how will those lifestyles make the transition from an American to a British TV format? And, more to the point, how would the programme look if it were set in historic old York instead of trendy New York or London?

Well, Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha would be far more likely to be called Kay, Cheryl, Amanda and Susan for a start.

Kay wouldn't write a high-profile newspaper column about sex, she'd be writing brochures for a corporate engineering company - a job that would necessitate frequent inspection trips to blocked outlet pipes on the east coast, and would call for stout walking shoes at all times.

Manolo Blahniks would be objects of ridicule, and Kay would spend her hard-won - but still not enough to live on, since house prices went barmy - cash on Verve CDs and gear from Marks & Sparks or Mango instead.

Cheryl would be neither an art gallery manageress nor a doctor's wife, but more likely an art history lecturer at the university, fighting the closure of the Minster Library in an attempt to rescue it from the bargain-basement clergy, following in the footsteps of monks of old who tried to protect their precious tomes against marauding norsemen.

To guarantee the preservation of the Minster collection for future generations, Cheryl would paint banners, go on marches and generally make a nuisance of herself. There would be no time for worrying about babies - simply no time at all.

As for Amanda, it is possible that she could be working in the legal profession, defending clients at York Crown Court as they faced charges of drug dealing or dangerous driving within spitting distance of the condemned cell in which Dick Turpin spent his last hours.

Susan would be in PR, but on account of the distinct lack of overtly glamorous pursuits to promote in North Yorkshire, she'd be working on minor TV and film publicity contracts, hanging out with the cast of Heartbeat, and nipping into the Evening Press offices on a semi-regular basis to catch up on the latest 'goss' from the dearly departed Press columnist Turpin, God rest his highwayman's soul.

So that's the professional lives of the York Sex And The City gang. But what about their private lives?

Well, they'd all be single, of course. And as for socialising - where else would it all happen but Micklegate on a Friday and Saturday night? They'd start out at the Bedroom Bar and wend their weary way down to Edwards, fending off swarms of York City fans and weaving around hen parties, swathed in scarlet feather boas and plastic L-plates.

Their poison would not be the Cosmo, cocktail of choice for the Manhattan Sex And The City crew, but a more inspired old York party punch called the Hippo - made up of peach-flavoured Bacardi Breezers, vodka, John Smith's and blue Bols.

Their prey would not be the chiselled, svelte, gym-weary young men women have come to admire on the original Sex And The City show - it would be a gaggle of blokes outside the chippie, trying to look seductive by balancing a kebab in one hand and a traffic cone in the other while a mate-with-a-mullet called Norman bobs about in the background, seemingly to provide moral support, but probably because he hasn't got anywhere to stay that night.

There would be no chauffeur-driven stretch limo to greet Kay on a night out like the one Big meets Carrie in, but instead an H-reg red Peugeot with one purple panel and a missing wing mirror. Oh, well - glamour's over-rated anyway.

Unfulfilled by hanging about in a city where packs of men and packs of women prowl but never the twain meet for any length of time, Kay, Cheryl, Amanda and Susan would turn to other pursuits - not hanging out in gay bars perhaps but meeting up at the new Mecca bingo, or taking up tennis at Heworth Tennis Club or going to the races.

They could cycle along the banks of the Ouse, take a trip on a river cruise, hang about in coffee bars or restaurants gossiping about men, work, life, the highs and lows of the city in which they live - just like Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha.

Life wouldn't be as glam as in the original show, they wouldn't be as rich, and they'd be more likely to be living in a rented two-up two-down in Leeman Road than an art deco-style loft apartment.

The hot topics of conversation would be the spiralling house prices in York, the workaday grind stretching out for years without the prospect of ever being able to afford their own place, a decent pension or establishing a solid relationship in all the turmoil.

They wouldn't be as fab and they wouldn't be as pampered as the originals. But they'd be more true to life and I'd watch; wouldn't you?

Updated: 09:20 Tuesday, June 10, 2003