What is it with us Australians? Huh? Are we so starved for attention all the way down here on Earth's underside that we'll latch onto anything and anyone willing to pay us a minute amount of it? Is any artist that is famous enough to know but not necessarily time-poor enough to be locked into an Asia tour leg destined to be an "honorary Australian" for all of time to come? As far as I can tell, the answer is yes.Take for example, our bizarre fascination with P!nk. An artist who is—forgive me—average. An artist whose music shouldn't resonate with this country any more than any other. An artist whose ability to live in a Malibu mansion of this calibre could quite safely be attributed to suburban Australian mums and aunts alone.According to me, Australia's obsession with P!nk is made up of two defining parts: The first is that she is so unbelievably relatable to us because she is the absolute spitting image of a woman you've stood behind in line for Brumby's at your local shopping centre your entire fucking life: kids hanging off her while she orders in her husky, pack-a-day dulcet tones, leopard print off-the-shoulder tank top revealing a 15-year-old's idea of a good tattoo and an eyebrow ring glistening out from underneath her platinum blonde, comically-long side quiff.The second is that she tours here a lot. The more she comes, the more we love her. The more we respect and revere her. Because there's nothing Australians like more than being acknowledged. We're so far away, you know? We just want you guys to notice us.Read the rest of the absolutely insane story on Noisey.
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