When I was in my mid-teens, my mother took me to see Peter Ustinov doing his cosmopolitan raconteur turn at the State Theatre in Sydney. We both pretended to get the highbrow cultural references and (as did most of the audience, I expect) dutifully laughed at them when required to do so. With hindsight I realise we both just wanted to be that breezily sophisticated sort of person (as did most of the audience, I expect).