She’s a widow celebrating the death of her husband who made his fortune as a stand up comedian making jokes about how as soon as he got married he had to spend his weekends at Kmart amongst the throw cushions and scented candles.

She’s a celebrity on the way to a murder trial in the back seat of a car driven by a man who drives vintage automobiles for a living whom she eventually gets together with after she sees his well-worn hands and knows he has seen the hardness of the world.

She's a woman paralysed by constant indecision between two great romantic prospects in her life and spends the next ten years moving between the two, only to end up in the same hotel in Tokyo Lost In Translation was filmed, face pressed up against the glass, having lost them both.

She's the kind of woman who buys one of those busboy hats that are in fashion at the moment and other women are jealous of at parties. Not because of the hat because it’s ugly but because she had the confidence to wear it. She goes to a lot of parties. A lot of women are subsequently jealous of her. There is no man or no proper ending to this one.

She hates Ed Sheeran’s music but meets him in a second hand vintage clothing store on a Saturday afternoon before his show, just after he has been on The Edge and he invites her backstage where they fall in love over their shared adoration for mystery and spontaneous trips to the tattoo parlour.

She’s a barista at a cafe off the main street of a hipster suburb and has the conviction to arm herself in tattoos that look good on her because she decided she suited them. She’s the kind of person who's content with being covered in coffee grounds and not stimulated that much intellectually each day but makes jewellery on the side and has recently started to make it because she got featured on an up and coming lifestyle blog. Her partner is a high end lawyer and they struggle to connect over day to day things.

She's a woman who spent all her 30s working too much and now she’s 40 she realises she wants to have children but doesn’t know if she can because she’s what they call geriatric and she has to carry her IVF round with her in a cooler bag even while she’s at dinner parties of her married friends with kids jabbing herself in the bathroom while overhearing them complain about where to buy houses to fit all their things.

She works at her parents' wine shop in regional Victoria and on the weekends goes fishing with strange men because all her friends live in cities and she has become quite comfortable in plaid shirts. She falls in love with someone she never thought for a while because she felt like she needed it to work.

She's a woman and works at Super Cheap Auto on the weekends while she's studying but no one talks to her because she looks like she doesn't know about carburetors but she does because she grew up with a bogan brother. Then one day, this one day this guy comes in and talks to her, he has snakes up his arms and is wearing a flanno and that night they go to the Speedway in Maeanee and that's where the film ends - you never get to know what happens next.

She’s the kind of woman

She’s the kind

She’s the woman.