I am Elizabeth Bennet. I am also Carrie Bradshaw. At times, I moonlight as Marilyn Monroe, and I am the Ashley of the Olsens. I have been described at various times as sporty chic, a vintage glamour girl, a modern day ball-breaker, a nature loving boho princess and a socialite wannabe. The last one was hurtful. I have been the most likely to be famous, the most likely to use the word superfluous correctly, most likely to be a trophy wife (again, hurtful) most likely to spend all my money on Starbucks and most likely to drink a six pack of Strongbow.

Put it all together and you may find me at any given time in an empire waisted dress breaking the balls of my office boss whilst sipping on a grande latte. Or perhaps, in a white halter-neck, chugging back a Strongbow whilst lecturing passers by on the merits of using ‘superfluous’ correctly. Every second Friday you’ll find me chasing fame and a wealthy husband, wearing daisy chains and encouraging people to turn their lights out. All done whilst working the vintage glamour girl look and channelling the erudite wisdom of one Carrie Bradshaw.

And so, tapping on my laptop, overlooking a leafy upper eastside street, I ask the question - what is this insatiable need to define ourselves in 5 questions?

I was fourteen when I took my first quiz. It was from Dolly and it urged me to define what kind of girl I was – sporty, girly, smart or arty. I think, out of sheer terror of being labelled non-girly, I answered all Bs and smugly landed in the girly girl category. My favourite colour was pink, I was probably always on the (pink) telephone and had a long line of hotties knocking down my door. Negative on all three.

Dolly and Girlfriend merged seamlessly with Cleo and Cosmo ('what kind of a girl are you?', suddenly became 'what kind of a blowjob do you give?') and then uni brought the real deal, the slightly more sophisticated tests that students participated in with an interest bordering on narcissism. Who doesn’t love a bit of free psychoanalysis? Extraversion, agreeableness, conscientiousness, emotionality, intellect were tossed around, scores compared, Jung and Eyesenck briefly replaced Mia Freedman and Sarah Wilson as gurus*.

Then, of course, the next logical step is to become a Facebook application addict. Scrolling down one friend’s page, I note she is part of the ‘Are you the sweetest person’ contest, her date of birth says she finds happiness in life but can be stubborn, she too is Carrie Bradshaw, she has had her name analysed (and is apparently a host of adjectives) and is a passionate kisser.

You’ll notice we only ever choose to celebrate and believe the nice things these quizzes tell us. And, mostly, they only tell us nice things. They appeal to the peacock in us all. We can nod smugly and say ‘yes, I am rather stubborn’ then smile demurely, ‘but I am very sensitive,’ and nod in a self deprecating manner, ‘and I am super intuitive, that’s so true.’ There’s never the ‘Wow, You’re Definitely a Dickhead’ option when you tally up your score, or ‘You Are on Your Way to Being a Psychopath!’

Perhaps it’s not so much self definition we’re after, but affirmation with a little bit of ego stoking on the side. Oh … and to be Carrie Bradshaw, come on, I know you rigged the answers. It’s OK, I did too.

* Mia Freedman and Sarah Wilson were never my gurus.

Image by bravenewtraveler licensed by Creative Commons