What do a ceremonial blue bra and some posey dance moves have to do with Al Pacino?

I have been thinking for a few weeks about what film to write about.

A good friend of mine, in the middle of a brave career change, told me last week that if you’re unhappy it’s only ever for one of two reasons; either you are aiming for the wrong thing or you’re going about getting it the wrong way.

Recently a quote on another friend’s facebook page struck a chord with me: ‘Being entirely honest with oneself is good exercise.’ – Sigmund Freud

I woke up this morning to the realisation that, ever since watching a certain film at an impressionable age, I have been secretly harbouring a slightly unhealthy aim in life.

I attended a private school in Scotland, the sort of school that defines success in life as being a sportsman, lawyer, doctor or accountant – or similar. At the end of every school year a prize giving ceremony is held during which an ex pupil who has achieved this sort of success is asked back to give a speech and hand out the prizes.

To my horror I have just realised that I have been day dreaming intermittently for years about being asked back to give such a speech. Even though I always found the prize giving speeches incredibly boring, mine would be inspired, emotionally charged, I would be a force for good and receive a standing ovation, obviously.

Lest people forget I did once receive probably the most rubbish prize at this ceremony ever – the ‘joint’ accounts prize in form five. I remember it well because when I sat down the boy next to me nudged me and pointed out that I was wearing a bright blue bra under my laboriously ironed white shirt.

My last involvement with my school was my ten year reunion where I drank far too much and did some embarrassingly inappropriate and slightly posey dancing, so much so that one of my fellow class mates, now a school approved ‘successful’ GP, said to my brother at a later wedding; ‘Your sister, she does drugs doesn’t she?’

A childhood friend of mine who lived across the road is now a barrister, one of my brother’s old friends is now editor of the Spectator, both I think were head boys/girls or at least deputies. They have, unsurprisingly, both been asked back to give speeches; not someone who left in fifth year, accidentally wearing a blue bra for the world to see, who is not particularly career minded. Not to mention the suspected drug habit.

So, on the same day that I’ve uncovered my secret dream I’ve also realised that if I do really want it, I have gone about getting it entirely the wrong way, which in turn has led me to the realisation that I never really wanted it in the first place.

It’s amazing what good acting can do to your sub conscious.

Scent of a Woman is a great film that you should watch.

Just don’t let it get into your sub conscious and start fantasising about something that’s not actually important to you, as I did.

Posted 02:54 AM on Thu Mar 24 2011

By Barbie

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