Sitting and watching Charade starring Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant I realise two and a half things. The first, is that I wish I was French and by virtue of this, be effortlessly cool.

The second, and perhaps as a corollary of the first, is that I wish we all wore hats. And did our hair nicely. And accessorised with fascinators and hair pieces. 

Ala Reggie Lambert, Charade

I love when I see a woman with a beautiful hat or hair up in an interesting do’. They’ve gone that extra mile, and I admire that. Not only because i don’t know how, but if i did, by my very nature, I wouldn’t bother.

The half realisation is that I am very, very lazy. I am what I people refer to as a a time maximiser, I spend so few minutes ‘doing’ my hair. It is either up or down, and almost always out of my face. 

But, alas, tomorrow I will wear a hat. A non-step for human kind, a fucking huge deal for lil ol’ me.

And how much of a hunk is Cary Grant? He’s like an old school Clooney.

Today was special. I did some exercise. 

And while this is a feat on its own, it’s quite special for another reason. While undergoing such strenuous activity (read: walking leisurely with my bestfriend), she reminded me of a time during High School where a girl (let’s call her Sarah) was attempting to group together the different social cliques in order to form the shape of the number ‘7’; the year we graduated.

Quite obnoxiously, she pointed to the different groups sitting in the room, identifying them based on their cultural backgrounds, which evidently was the way most groups seemed to have formed and bonded through the course of their student life. 

She proceeded to make the shape of the ‘7’ without much difficulty, starting and pointing with her own friends the ‘Aussies’, followed by the ‘Italians’ (Wogs she called them) and the ‘Lebs’; who were all present at the time. Eventually she got to the side of the room my friends and I were sitting at, and she pointed, looking puzzled.

She couldn’t stereotype us. We hadn’t bonded over our ethnic background but rather the enjoyment of our own company. Sitting among us were ‘straight’ Australians, half and full Italians, Lebanese, Korean, mixed Greek/Indian and Sudanese girls. We were culturally undefinable. In the end, she pointed and called us the multi-cultural group and we laughed. Just like we laughed about it today. 

The incident didn’t offend anyone, or so it seems. It was done in good humour and the exercise was to bring us altogether.

But I find it sad to think that girls (or at least 17-18 years olds) tend to find commonality and identify with girls of similar background. It doesn’t seem enough to create long lasting bonds. I think of a world where I hadn’t made friends with people who were somehow different from me; where I haven’t learnt from and admired the beauty of their customs. 

I have the absolute fortune of remaining (good) friends with all of the girls in my high school group, as well as making new and exciting friends from all over the world at uni. It’s when friendships are based on similar personality traits and/or life values rather than cultural similarity that they can stand the test of time.

But that’s not to say nonna’s cooking wouldn’t help. 

I’ve accepted that I’ve been particularly lazy. Not generally lazy, but writing lazy. And I’m about 5 years behind in the game. 

That’s changing, as of today. 

Welcome to what I hope will be become a blog about nothing in particular and everything that interests me. And hopefully you too. Today I will endeavour to make you think, and alas there lies the taraeffect in tomorrow’s change.