Google HBO’s Girls, and your poor little Internet browser will be bombarded with thousands of results discussing the Emmy-award winning show. From the profound, DIVERSITY/NEPOTISM/FEMINISM, to the totes adorbs HEADBANDS/CUTE BOYS/PUPPIES, people can’t stop talking about Lena Dunham’s take on a group of twenty-something girls living in New York.  Four episodes in to the second series, and we have already witnessed protagonist Hannah’s trials and tribulations of hooking up with a turtle owning, pomegranate juice swigging ex-heroin addict, hosting a dinner party more awkward than a RAG blind date and going on a coke (not the kind you buy from a vending machine) binge in the pursuit of journalism.

Season 2 has happily picked up from where the finale ended, notably with the relationship between Shoshanna and Ray having developed from awkward encounter, to something worthy of starring in Shosh’s beloved Sex and the City. Scenes of them spooning in bed, discussing the emotions and joy of bathing pigs are balanced with earnest, candid moments, as they come to realize their true feelings for each other. Arguably irritating characters in their own right, Dunham has gradually developed their romance throughout this series into an honest and heartfelt portrayal of young love that is sweet enough to be a tender contrast to the short-lived flings the other girls have, yet grounded enough that we won’t turn into mushy, blubbering messes from all the lurve and feels. 

Girls prides itself on not shying away from the fact that sex can be awkward and often, a bit of a calamity, and Marnie’s hook up with sleazy artist Booth Johnston (Jorma Taccone, of Lonely Island fame) certainly merits cringey coitus award of the season so far. Watching Marnie and Booth sex it up in front of a Victorian life sized doll (a doll that makes Samara from The Ring look like Honey Boo Boo) is uncomfortable viewing, yet demonstrates how Girls will continue to push the boundaries on what we expect of sex in TV series. Sultry Gossip Girl style writhing around on Egyptian cotton it ain’t.

Bohemian Jessa’s surprise marriage from last season’s finale provides the quirky, if not downright bizarre moments that made the first season such a success. While at first Chris O’Dowd’s American accent and penchant for fedoras come across more ‘Bugsy Malone extra’ than Brooklynite, his portrayal of vulnerable nerd come venture capitalist, Thomas-John is notably a highlight of the season. Between gifting his wife a basket of puppies (one of which Hannah nestles down her top… as you do), to his delightful insults, “"I'm a miracle. I'm a unicorn… you're just some fucking dumb hipster who's munching my hay" during the scathing spat between the (un)happily married couple, O’Dowd shines as a male lead memorable for what he says and does, rather than being an empty caricature like Sandy (Donald Glover) the Black Republican, or Laird, the creepy neighbour. The show for all its strengths is fickle when it comes to development, be that of its plot or characters.  It seems that’s Hannah’s shorteralls and sleeping bag onesies get more screen time and reappearances than many of the male characters, never mind that their stains and creases give the audience more of a backstory than any of the characters seem to have.

An entertaining start, yes, but my fingers are crossed that Dunham will continue this season by adding more interesting and dynamic characters, instead of resigning a few more souls to her character graveyard of hipster ghosts that float in and out of her girl’s lives.