The most fascinating thing about the Internet is that it can eat 5 hours in a matter of seconds, in that I was just browsing The Cut for some speedy giggles, #nekminnit I’ve missed two meals and it’s dark outside. Over the weekend, I fell into hole of TedX motivational speeches on YouTube, and just as Lizzie Velasquez’ outlook is both incredible and touching, Logan LaPlante really hit it home for me – firstly, your name is awesome, and secondly, how can it be that children can be so much more insightful than adults in the present day?
Some days prior, I’d caught up with my dear friends Courtney and Michael in a Bondi hipster coffee shop of sunflower proportions – ironically, I hadn’t seen Michael for about as long as Courtney hadn’t seem him (which speaks volumes for my hermit University life, seeing as she lives in New York). I was just thinking the other day, exclaimed Michael post reunion XOXO’s, how much you’ve grown since our first time in NYC! You’re so grown up now! The conversation continued along the thread of how little I’d been at 16, how Miss Lily’s coconut corn hit the spot, and how I would still have security guards slash angry marker crosses all over my wrists this coming season in the big city so that I “couldn’t drink as I was underage” despite my not drinking anyway.
We inhaled several gallons of tea, spent a few loud hours gossiping at Iceberg’s, then headed home with promises of more small talk pre-Fashion Month.
I only came to consider this concept of ‘growing up’ upon absorbing Logan’s speech, in which he notes happiness, health and understanding yourself (and his beanie demonstrates glorious hair) as being the true symptoms of the somewhat dreaded passage of life. Most say the world says kids grow up too quickly – too much sheer lace, twerking, and Rihanna’s Instagram too early; business colleagues say that financial independence (née holidays to Sri Panwa?) amounts to society’s tick of approval; America says that I’ll be a grownup in 6 months because those security guards won’t have to draw all over my arms anymore; and Australia says that I’ve already grown up because I can get drunk and vote in that order (though if you’ll allow it, I’d say PM Tony is the one with the growing up to do – or perhaps most of Australia did get drunk and vote).
So explain to me why a 13-year-old is more mature than any 33-year-old I know.
TedX aside, I have to say that I feel grown up when Alex and I travel alone, when I go an entire day in a wide-brimmed fedora without anyone staring, when the staff at Sri Panwa call me Madam and not Miss, and when I’m late for class because I had a meeting. And yet, I still revel in the sense of future when the 33-year-olds ask me what I want to be when I grow up, or the barman at a 21st asks whether I’d like a soft drink on first glance, or when my Business School tells me I don’t know anything, yet… or when Alex has to coax me off Sri Panwa’s giant swing because I’ve been squealing on it for over 20 minutes.
But, right now, I need to grow up and make dinner.
Shot at Sri Panwa