In the conversation below, Sarita Choudhury unravels the tangled romances of And Just Like That while reflecting on her own notions of love, ageing and singledom.

Sarita, I had no idea that you are technically a south London girl.

So, first of all: I am in love with London, and hearing your British accent has already made me so happy. But, yes, my mum is from Blackheath, and I lived there for the first six months of my life, until we moved back to Jamaica, where she was teaching. I actually returned to the UK and lived on Portobello Road, right in front of the Electric Cinema, after I graduated from university in Canada, which was the same year I landed my first movie in New York. The 12 months I spent there were just so magical, and I romanticise them a lot, because, well, I think we all have certain places where it feels as though our freedom began. Mine just so happened to be in London. I come back all the time.

Where can we find you when you’re in town?

I can’t help but go right back to Notting Hill to see which Jamaican restaurants are still standing, because the area’s changed so much since I left. On my last trip, I stayed with friends in Maida Vale, and the time before that, in Brixton. Where I sleep really depends on who I’m missing the most, and I’ll drag them to the theatre, the Tate Modern and any market situation. I used to shop a lot on Portobello, and recently I found an amazing pair of corduroys that reminded me of the trousers I used to wear to school in Italy. I was always jealous of this one girl, Ginevra, who had pale blue ones that weren’t annoying at all, just the perfect shade. I finally found that exact pair right at the top end of the market.

In what ways are you most British?

The mornings always start with PG tips, and when I’m tired, the accent comes back. In fact, you might not notice, but I’m slipping back into it because of you. I’ve always been embarrassed of speaking like this, though. Imagine: I went to an international school in Rome, and then home to a British mum and Indian dad. I mean, there’s no other accent I could have. It is literally transatlantic.

And you’ve just been travelling back and forth across the Atlantic to promote And Just Like That. How are you holding up?

The more you do press tours, the more enjoyable it becomes. The muscle returns, and you feel like an athlete. I did think things would start feeling a little lighter by the time I came back to New York, but what’s interesting about coming back home, to your actual home, is that even if you only have four commitments a week, it’s much worse, because you also have to check the mail and do the dishes.

Let’s talk about the total revelation that is Seema Patel. You’ve brought so much warmth to the part.

I’m so glad you said warmth. That’s been such an important element in developing the character, because when you read the script, you immediately feel her pace: the speed of her one-liners, and the no-regrets attitude. So I have to be careful. There’s a line between being brash and self-assured.

We’ve seen glimpses of Seema’s vulnerabilities before, but it seems as though, this season, she’s being forced to reckon with everything that previously confirmed her sense of self.

Once she realised that her relationship with Ravi – someone I think she genuinely tried to make it work with – was slipping into the “Zoom world”, that’s when I realised that Seema actually does want love. She really wants to close a deal here, and she’s struggling to understand why that isn’t happening for her. I think that’s what this season is really about: if love isn’t on the cards for Seema, then what’s the other journey she’s meant to follow? This was the first time I have had to show Seema’s unsteadiness, which was a challenge, because I don’t ever want her to lose that sense of assuredness. Even as she questions herself, there’s still that pace, that “I’m going to be fine” mindset.

The irony is that Seema sells homes for a living, but she can’t find one herself.

We’ve never even seen her kitchen! I do think, though, that while Seema might sometimes be insecure on the inside, she’s not a neurotic person. Even if she’s in a state of feeling vulnerable, she would never want to go to a therapist or a dating service. That’s just not who she is as an animal.

I guess it’s because Seema’s unwilling to settle – which is why she feels so aspirational – but she’s also a victim to a classic avoidant attachment style. What do you think her “wound” is?

In my mind, she’s someone who never quite fit in growing up – perhaps because of her colour or class – and has developed a thick skin as a result. The ambitiousness, I think, comes from that need to win.

What do you think Carrie offers her?

I think Seema could have met Carrie for drinks in her thirties, and assumed she would remain that sort of once-in-a-while friend. But for some reason, Carrie managed to penetrate her fifties. I think it might even be the first time that Seema has ever had a real friend, to be honest, which sounds odd, but when Seema talks, Carrie doesn’t play the therapist. And she doesn’t annoy Seema, which says a lot.

Were there any lines in this series that felt particularly revealing?

If I had a memory, I could tell you. It’s funny because we never really think about specific lines when filming. It’s only later that someone on the street will quote something back to me, and I’ll look at them and almost feel jealous, like, “How do you know my lines when I can barely remember them?”

There was a moment, though, when Seema said to the matchmaker, “I don’t need this! I’m Indian! We gave birth to matchmaking!”, and she interjects with, “And how’s that working out for you?” It was such a strong, truthful one-liner, which is how Seema usually serves it, so I think it shook her for a second, before she realised that, no, obviously she cannot be going along with this woman’s matchmaking service.

It was upsetting to see Seema in pearls.

I felt sad in the costume fitting! Like, “Seema, you’re letting this happen?”

The entire storyline of AJLT challenges the conventional ideas about romance, ageing and singledom. In what ways can you identify with that?

Seema and I really are so different, but neither of us are interested in unpacking our lives like that. She, like me, just makes it work. I mean, I don’t even understand the question when someone asks, “Sarita, what do you think about dating in your fifties?”, because I really just believe in living and letting it happen.

Shall we discuss the relationship Seema has with clothes?

Oh, I loved the coat I wore while breaking up with Ravi – it was handmade over weeks in Colombia – and there’s a pair of Margiela jeans that show up later in the season that I’m still so obsessed with. I wish the audience could see costume designers Molly Rogers and Danny Santiago’s “lair”. It’s exactly as you’d imagine: a beautiful, bright pink chaise longue we all collapse into, surrounded by racks of clothes for each of the characters. I was so moved when I first walked in there and saw mostly brown and cream pieces on Seema’s line-up, because when costume designers dress someone of colour, they tend to go straight to the opposite end of the spectrum. Like, I know I look best in muted tones, but I had never seen that opinion shared. I couldn’t get over it. “You’re going to put a brown dress on a brown girl?” I thought that was genius. I’ll admit, though, it did take me a while to get used to the language of Seema’s fashion, even though clothes are half of who she is. That level of jewellery, belts, leopard prints, it was new to me. I pretty much let Molly and Danny lead. It helps me stay in character – I don’t want Sarita’s choices to infiltrate.

Does wearing her clothes change the feeling of being in your own body?

Yes. The cut of a suit or a waist-cinching belt completely changes your posture. Seema’s clothes make me feel like a wallet when I walk. The way I stride is different. Sometimes, I feel like I’m walking into a scene as if I’m going to destroy it. It just feels so cinematic, which is not a familiar feeling to me. I usually wear slightly oversized jeans, a mannish silk shirt and Repetto ballerina flats or Tod’s heels, because they’re the only heels I can walk through New York City wearing and not be in pain.

Who would you like to see Seema end up with? I wonder if she needs a Harry Goldenblatt to enter her life?

You mean, someone who just loves her and is always there?

I mean someone who helps her shed the romantic ideal she’s built in her head.

I get that, but here’s what I think: you know when you travel abroad, and there’s a certain guy from a different culture who just knows how to pull out your chair, and at the same time crack a joke to the person on the neighbouring table? He probably knows the coffee you drink, and is good-looking, but everyone is good-looking in that country so he doesn’t even, like, register it? It’s someone like that.

Or perhaps it’s more powerful if Seema doesn’t find “the one”, and that she meaningfully fulfils the anti-rom-com narrative that the original Sex and The City didn’t quite live up to in the end.

I have an odd feeling that Seema wants real love more than anything.