Sparked by that now iconic image where the suave Mr. Singson and the gorgeous Miss Universe clink Champagne flutes inside a private plane, we imagine the conversation we would have given life and limb to overhear.
Chavit: I’m having a replica made of you for my private zoo. Which dress would you like to wear?
Catriona: Maybe something brown, sir, and leaf- shaped. I think I’d like to wear a very large pili nut.
Chavit: Do you identify as Australian or Filipino?
Catriona: Filipino po.
Chavit: Where’s your father from?
Chavit: What’s the first meal of the day?
Catriona: Brekky po.
Chavit: Ronald Mcdonald is the mascot of which fast food franchise?
Chavit: Anyway, what do you think of the class differences portrayed in Cuaron’s Roma?
Catriona: I believe that by drawing upon his own childhood memories of growing up in an upper class environment, Cuaron firmly positions himself as one who can only speak as a historian—which is why the political backdrop is firmly hung on the film’s narrative scaffolding. I believe in that, and in the children of Tondo.
Chavit: (…) So you like politics?
Catriona: I like entertainment.
Chavit: I like entertainment too, which is why I bought the Ms. Universe franchise. You can still win as Ms. Australia. Pasisikatin kita.
Catriona: Sikat na po ako.
Chavit: What do you think about the Australians claiming you as one of their own? Are you affected by this?
Catriona: I believe that nationalism plays an interesting role in any global beauty pageant. All the contestants, after all, are draped with sashes bearing their nation’s name. So maybe the real question is—given the chance, would I join the pageant as Ms. Australia? Does that require me to be an official citizen of that state, or at least partly so?
Chavit: (…) Wait, wait, wait, I’m the one asking the questions here.
Catriona: Oh. My bad. Please go ahead.
Chavit: Would you like chicken or beef for your inflight meal?