Oh Brunch, a combination of my two least favourite meals, breakfast and Lunch; and while it doesn’t take an idiot to figure that out, it’s taken me long enough to muster up the energy and strength to commit myself to writing this piece. Which if you must know is about brunch. Well, kind of.
There are so many aspects to cover about brunch. Brunch comes with its own rules, its own dress code and its own crowd. Brunch for me pulls a certain kind of lady (and man); well it pulls three certain kinds of ladies (or men). I Like to call them The Ladies (who could also be men) who brunch.
1. The side piece; and I’m not talking about the chicken breast from KFC. – Oh sweet thing, if you are relating to anything I am writing below, girl (or boy) you need to respect yourself. This is the kind of person who attends brunch upon invitation. You didn’t plan on going to brunch, but you haven’t seen your boo for a couple of weeks and you’ve annoyed him enough to agree to finally see you. What do they suggest? Brunch. Why? Because they’re having breakfast with their mother and lunch with their spouse and they have to fit you in between 11 and 2. They suggest brunch at a place outside of the city and the only thing they let you take images of is your food.
2. The unemployed, but not the poor unemployed, the type of person who is unemployed enough to host brunch mid week while everyone is at work and the only people at the brunch are their unemployed friends – No but you must be winning if you are this person. You have your degree, you have a Polo, but you haven’t managed to find something you like to do with your life. So you brunch. You spend your mornings around Cavendish in your gym clothes and spend enough time dashing around Woolies to call it cardio. You head home and you (or someone else) set up your brunch table. By 11:30 your friends are arriving, some of them are doing their masters, while others have an interview later. It doesn’t matter to you, because by 3 am you’re lying down for a nap, only to get up at 5 and get ready to go for dinner at Beluga with your best friend and her boyfriend, who used to be your boyfriend but you don’t mind.
3. The person who genuinely likes to brunch, but only gets do it when an old friend is in town or you have friend group who is constantly late for everything and therefore breakfast turns to brunch – Brunch is the kind of meal that is reserved for weekends. It’s your favourite meal of the day and it makes you think of sunshine and happiness and round framed Ray Ban glasses that 5/9 of your friends attending brunch are wearing. The simple things make you happy and you’re not bothered by what anyone thinks of you externally but deep inside you also don’t care. You keep a mixed CD in your car made by your best friend and you’re on your third phone charger. You life seems pretty good, and you really, really, really like to brunch.
But just like in science, every positive has a negative. For some, brunch is pretentious. It’s a social construct invented as an excuse for people to live out their stepford wife fantasies and at the same time not have to wake up for breakfast. It’s a meal eaten by the reptiles of this world who like to show the world just who they are from their social media. But I also think that the same people who think like this are people who eat eggs strictly for breakfast.
If you’ve made it to the end of this post you either in one of my WhatsApp groups or a family member of someone in one of my groups. But if you aren’t and you were genuinely interested I’m really sorry because I literally just wrote the biggest load of shit imaginable and I had a great time doing so. Beware of the brunch club ya’ll.