The only thing I dislike about Holly Golightly is her Cat.
Has anyone ever considered how different the story of Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961) would be if she had a dog instead of a cat? Think about it. The mind boggles.
Anyhow, for the last several months, I've been trying my hardest to avoid writing about this film. I absolutely adore it, but I feel like it has lost so much meaning throughout the decades because of the way it has been popularized. It's a cliche to say you love this film, and that's a damn shame.
Yet, I am constantly thinking about it. But why?
Could it be because I will soon be living on my own (okay, with two flat-mates, but without my sister)? Because I will no longer have to succumb to the ever-so unglamorous student lifestyle? Because I can finally afford to buy one of those fabulous sleeping-masks?
Maybe.
I have thought about this at length and in-depth, and I have come to the conclusion that I will henceforth live like Holly (except for the whole escort thing). I will be fun and glamorous, carefree and pensive, and above all: exquisitely stylish.
I have compiled a list of commandments for my "Golightly Lifestyle":
1) I will make men find my shoes whenever they wake me up.
2) I will wear my bed-sheets as a toga when I am getting ready for a party.
3) I will wear massive sunglasses.
4) I will find slippers in my fridge.
5) I will sleep in a men's tuxedo-shirt.
Hmm, it's a good start. I feel like I should print out and frame this list.
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