
I guess one show on the trials and tribulations of a group of New York City lady socialites wasn’t enough for Kevin Wade. After helping create the highly successful
Sex in the City, Wade decided to copy the very same method, this time minus the sex. With
Cashmere Mafia, Wade attempted at make the transition from the foul mouthed booze filled orgy that is HBO to the “comfy” yet censored confines of ABC with
Mafia. While the show seemed to copy every other, non-sexy aspect of
Sex in the City, they still found a way to wring gallons of drama out of the series’ pilot.
Cashmere Mafia centers around four, high powered female executives living in New York City. Mia Mason (played by
Lucy Liu) a magazine publisher, Zoe Burden (
Frances O’Connor) is the manager of a Mergers and Acquisitions firm, Juliette Draper (
Miranda Otto) is the COO of a hotel and resort conglomerate, with Caitlin Dowd (
Bonnie Somerville) a cosmetics V.P., filling out the foursome. These ladies have been best friends since college and have rode each others’ coattails - and contacts - up the New York social and business ladders.

On paper, the show seems like a interesting take on sexism in the work place as these four glass-ceiling-smashing leading ladies attempt to portray. After watching the pilot episode, though, the sheer ridiculousness of the show comes to light. Within the 42 minute pilot there’s a wedding proposal (and later retraction), an affair, a heated promotion, a dance recital, nanny drama, and enough cliche women's power jams in the soundtrack to make even the most loquacious housewife balk.
Mafia quickly falls into a daytime soap with a sappy wedding proposal two minutes into the show, only for the happy couple to walk into work a minute later to learn they will be competing for a promotion that will leave one the new publisher, the other without a job. These “dramatic” moments continue to drop throughout the episode, concluding in Lucy Liu receiving the promotion only to see her presumed fiance pull out of the deal because he expected to win. And of course, the episode ends with the Mafiosa’s sitting around “their” table at a posh downtown eatery, sipping on champaign, making a plan to find the perfect man for an affair payback mission.
While watching the show I couldn't help but think to myself, “why would women watch this?” With this realization i notice I’d already made a few huge assumptions about the show. First that the audience is completely comprised of women, the second being that people actually watched it. The second question was easily answered by ABC’s failure to pick up
Mafia for a second season. The question of audience seems clear to me as well. I don’t see a man, whether straight or gay, tuning in to watch this show. I honestly couldn’t have estimated its audience to be anybody past housewife's looking to it as a visual interpretation of their wildest dreams. Surely women like the ones portrayed in the show weren't rushing home from their dinner meetings to tune in. Then it hit me that the producers knew their audience and they were going after it full force. Much like with Fox’s new man-centric drama
Human Target which chronicles the freelance missions of Christopher Chance, a Fed turned mercenary who can rescue anyone from anywhere no matter if he has to bring down a multi-national corporation or corrupt government in his wake. While Mafia has affairs, champagne, and swanky charity events, Target has guns, explosion, and sexy damsels who always seem to find themselves in distress.
Sometimes, we as TV viewers don’t really want to have to think about what we’re watching. We want to plop down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a Bud Light and laugh, smile, and cry for 42 minutes. These shows allow us to simply have fun basking in the ridiculousness that is scripted television. So even if I couldn’t care less about the ladies latest “
frenemy” or favorite new restaurant, I’m sure they’d say the same things about the explosions and pretty ladies over on Fox. We watch only what we like and therefore television excecs, bent on getting us to watch their shows, tailor those shows to our every whim; no matter how sad and utterly terrible that whim is.