This is the question we get asked most. 

"What is Girlfriends?" 

And the honest answer is that it depends on who is asking. 

Some people see Sex and the City. 

Others see a modern-day, completely unscripted version of Loose Women. 

Some see the humour, chaos and friendship dynamics of Friends. 

The reality?

We're probably a little bit of all three. 

If Sex and the City, Friends and Loose Women disappeared into a room together, drank far too much wine, laughed until midnight, shared their deepest secrets, forgot what they were originally talking about, solved three of the world's problems and accidentally started a movement, you'd probably end up with something that looked a lot like Girlfriends. 

The difference is that none of this is scripted. 

There are no writers feeding us lines. 

There are no carefully crafted television moments. 

There is no production team telling us when to laugh, cry or create conflict. 

What you see is exactly who we are. Which is both wonderful and occasionally terrifying. 

People often ask us which characters we are. The easiest comparison is probably Sex and the City. 

Sophia is undoubtedly our Carrie.

The storyteller.

The one who can somehow turn an ordinary moment into a bigger conversation about life, identity, ambition and belonging.

The one who asks the questions everyone else is thinking.

The one who can fill a room with energy before she's even picked up a microphone.

But unlike Carrie, Sophia is surprisingly grounded.

She's intuitive, direct, emotionally intelligent and incredibly self-aware. The intelligent businesswoman who can read a room in seconds, challenge a conversation when it needs challenging and still make people feel heard. She knows who she is, she's comfortable in her own skin and, thanks to a considerable amount of therapy and self-work over the years, is usually the first person to remind the rest of us to stop overthinking and trust ourselves.

Then there is me, Emmie.

Apparently, that makes me Samantha.

Although if we're being honest, I'm probably Samantha with a splash of chaos, a touch of Phoebe Buffay and the occasional tendency to say the thing everyone else was trying desperately not to say out loud.

I am usually the one laughing first, crying first or finding humour in situations where humour probably shouldn't exist.

I have a habit of turning serious conversations into ridiculous ones and ridiculous conversations into meaningful ones.

Not always intentionally.

I'm nurturing by nature and somehow always end up playing the mother role, checking everyone is okay, making sure nobody is left behind and worrying about everyone else's problems before my own. Especially when it comes down to health issues.

At the same time, there is also a permanently excitable teenager living inside me who occasionally appears without warning.

I am deeply empathetic, often hearing what people aren't saying rather than what they are. I can usually see the gaps between the words.

The irony is that whilst I spend a lot of my time helping other people recognise their strengths, I am often the last person to recognise my own.

Sophia calls me a creative polymath, a description I resisted for a long time before reluctantly accepting she might actually be right.

My biggest flaw? I don't always take criticism well. I want to fix things. I want to help. I want everyone to be okay. So sometimes feedback can feel like an attack when really it's an opportunity to learn. Thankfully, Girlfriends has taught me that growth usually lives somewhere in the compromise between the two.

And then there's Bijna.

Bij sits somewhere between Charlotte and Miranda.

The sensible one.

The intelligent one.

The voice of reason.

The one most likely to pull us back onto the subject when Sophia and I have disappeared down a rabbit hole involving dating disasters, perimenopause, friendship, politics or something one of us saw on TikTok three weeks ago.

She is thoughtful, grounded, compassionate and often the adult in the room. A role she carries with remarkable patience considering who she's dealing with.

She has an extraordinary ability to care for everyone around her, often anticipating what other people need before they've even realised it themselves.

The irony is that whilst she's brilliant at looking after everyone else, she is far less good at putting herself first. Her own needs, wants and sometimes even her health can find themselves quietly shuffled to the bottom of the list whilst she's busy making sure everyone around her is okay.

It's one of the things we admire most about her and occasionally one of the things we have to remind her not to do.

But if we're honest, even those comparisons don't quite work.

Because on any given day, we can all become different characters.

Some days, Sophia is Rachel, chasing perfection, setting impossibly high standards for herself and everyone around her, whilst somehow making it all look effortless.

Some days she's Joey, loving, playful, completely unfiltered and capable of turning the most serious conversation into something that leaves us crying with laughter.

Some days she's all six people from Friends at the same time, which is both impressive and mildly exhausting.

Bij can move from Monica's organisation and attention to detail to Chandler's dry observations within a single conversation. She is the calm in the storm, the voice of reason when needed, but never afraid to deliver a perfectly timed comment that leaves the rest of us howling.

And I can go from Phoebe's randomness to Ross's emotional overthinking faster than most people can finish a glass of wine. One minute I'm nurturing everyone around me, the next I'm analysing a conversation from three weeks ago, wondering whether I should have said something completely different.

The truth is, we're all a mixture.

Just like real women are.

Because women aren't one thing. 

We're not simply the career woman. 

The mother. 

The friend. 

The wife. 

The entrepreneur. 

The carer. 

The leader. 

The mess. 

The success story. 

We're all of it. 

Often simultaneously. 

That is why Girlfriends works. 

Not because we are experts. Not because we have all the answers. But because we're willing to have the conversations that most people are already having privately. 

The conversations about friendship. Love. Sex. Ageing. Menopause. Motherhood. Failure. Success. Money. Confidence. Identity. 

The conversations where people usually lower their voice and say, "Can I be honest?" Our entire show is built around that sentence. 

Can I be honest? 

Can I admit that I don't always know what I'm doing? 

Can I admit that success doesn't magically make you confident? 

Can I admit that friendships can save you? 

Can I admit that some days I feel powerful and some days I feel completely lost? 

Can I admit that life at fifty looks nothing like I expected it to at twenty? 

The answer is always a resounding YES!

And that's what audiences connect with. 

Not perfection. 

Not polished answers. 

Not carefully managed public personas. 

They connect with the fact that we're real. 

We interrupt each other. 

We laugh too much. 

We occasionally cry. 

We sometimes overshare. 

We regularly lose our train of thought. 

We disagree. 

We challenge each other. 

We support each other. 

And occasionally, we spend ten minutes trying to remember the name of a television character before realising we've forgotten the original question entirely. 

In many ways, that chaos is exactly the point. 

Because life isn't scripted. 

Friendship isn't scripted. 

Women aren't scripted. 

What happens on Girlfriends is what happens when three women who genuinely care about each other sit down and have the conversations most people wish they could have with their own closest friends. 

Beneath the laughter, the stories and the occasional complete derailment of the conversation is something much deeper. 

Empathy. 

We care. 

Deeply. 

About each other. 

About the people who watch. 

About the stories being told. 

About the women sitting at home wondering if they're the only ones feeling the way they do. 

We want them to know they're not. 

So yes, we're a little bit Sex and the City. 

A little bit Friends. 

A little bit Loose Women. 

But mostly, we're just three women navigating life in real time. 

Chaotic but organised. Strong but vulnerable. Ambitious but human. 

Passionate, curious, occasionally inappropriate and always authentic. 

And if you spend enough time watching Girlfriends, you'll realise something. 

The chaos isn't part of the show. The chaos is the show. 

Because beneath the laughter, the dating disasters, the menopause moments, the friendship, politics and the stories that probably shouldn’t be shared in public, sits something much deeper. 

Friendship. 

Real friendship. 

Not television friendship. 

Not social media friendship. 

The kind built through voice notes sent at midnight. Through tears in hotel rooms. Through career crises, family dramas, heartbreak, reinvention and occasionally asking each other if an outfit is fabulous or a complete disaster. 

Women carry extraordinary amounts, often silently. Girlfriends was never designed to tell women who they should become. It was created to remind them they don’t have to navigate life alone. 

Of course, we’d be lying if we said every conversation was that profound. 

Sometimes we’re discussing leadership. 

Sometimes we’re discussing resilience. 

And sometimes we’re spending twenty minutes debating whether we’d survive on a desert island with an ex-boyfriend. 

The important thing is that somehow it all makes sense at the time. 

Because that's friendship. That's life. And that's us. 

Watch Episode 1 of Girlfriends.