Is Oscar Piastri a Ham Sandwich?

Some style notes for the F1 star

There are two things that I feel nervous about when it comes to sharing stuff, by which I mean revealing personal information, not sharing as in loaning….oh wow I just spent a long time trying to think of an item I willingly share. I would maybe share clothes, but I don’t have a sister. Some women would share clothes with their brother, I guess. I don’t have that kind of brother. If fact I’m trying to think of a man less likely to wear a dress and it’s impossible. Back to the point! I feel nervous about telling people I am a Christian because I assume that they will assume I am a homophobic Trump supporting gun owning anti-birth control lunatic. Likewise, I feel nervous about telling people I am a Formula 1 fan because I assume they assume I am a fossil fuel loving climate change denying yobbo. (FYI yobbos are now called eshays. I don’t know why, ask the kids.) For now though, let’s remember that the internet is a safe space for sharing and carry on.

I grew up in a Formula 1 house, such was its influence that I named my youngest son Ayrton after Ayrton Senna, the greatest ever Formula 1 character, also a real person. If you haven’t seen the documentary Senna, drop everything and watch it now. (Even if you hate cars and people who drive them, it’s an incredible piece of storytelling.) As fascinating as it would be for everyone to hear about my undulating history with Formula One, I’ll save that for an exclusive paid subscriber post for my one paid subscriber. (Hi Dad.) But I will say that Ayrton Senna loomed so large in my childhood home that Ayrton felt like a family name. The man had charisma and panache and a phenomenal head of hair. He was also very handy behind the wheel of a car which, thanks to a X Box steering wheel and copious hours spent behind it, my Ayrton might be too. I guess we’ll find out when he gets his Ls.

Confession: I spent a little bit too long searching for the absolute best picture to illustrate my point about Senna’s panache. In my defence, he actually looks a lot like my husband in this pic. Flex.

It goes without saying that because of the above I am especially qualified to give style notes to Oscar Piastri, the Australian driver who may well end up taking out the driver’s championship this year.

Oscar’s hair can safely operate a Bunsen burner.

If this season continues the way it’s going, the crown that was headed for the head of the ADORABLE McLaren stalwart Lando Norris may well be whipped away in a cruel twist by his teammate Oscar. I am having a lot of trouble coming to terms with this because I think of all the drivers as characters in an ever-evolving story and Oscar lacks main character energy. I just can’t see him carrying this storyline through to the end, he seems one dimensional and paper thin. The problem could be that I consume virtually no F1 content outside of the race weekend broadcasts and Drive to Survive. I do this specifically to trick my algorithm into thinking I have no interest, in this way I avoid all spoilers. Who knows, perhaps if I watched YouTube shorts of him playing Ping-Pong or something, I would learn that he does have character. But I’m this far into a post, it’s too late to change topic.

If I was giving feedback to the FIA on character development, I would suggest that Oscar needs a little more fleshing out. Give the man some quirks. He just seems so damn calm and even keeled all the time. On the first-place podium he’s like a student who’s just received their Bunsen burner license. Even when performing a tricky overtake at 180kph around a corner, he’ll be on the radio saying something about tyre wear as if he’s ordering a ham sandwich. In fact, while we're using sandwiches as a metaphor, a ham sandwich is exactly what Oscar is. (Charles Leclerc for example is a baguette stuffed with way too many different types of meats and condiments. When you’re finished with it, you can’t help but wonder why the hell it didn’t work, all the ingredients were there. That metaphor works for the entire Ferrari team to the point where the sandwich toaster has caught fire and the whole building has been evacuated. There’s nothing left but a charred Charles, staggering through the ashes of his dreams. He takes a seat at a grand piano, the only thing left after the fire, and composes some sad classical music which he then releases on Spotify to mediocre critical reception.)

Back to the point! How to help Oscar find a little main-character energy. I have worried about writing this piece as I get very mad when people go on and on about the appearance of any woman who has ever been on TV. According to ladies in the media, the trolling is relentless. Is this concern of mine enough to stop me? Turns out not. Likewise, I don’t want it to seem pervy. Eww. Or contribute to the gross stereotype that women only care about superficial things like hairstyles when it comes to sports. (I didn’t choose to follow McLaren because I like orange cars.) I am here purely because I’ve been told I’m good at character development and it would be selfish of me not to share(!) this gift. Oscar, I know you’re reading this. I mean no ill-will. I’m just here to help and let’s start with that hair, because as Fleabag says, hair is everything. Oscar’s hairstyle is a year eight schoolboy who is good at STEM. It does its homework at the same time every afternoon and only eats sugar on weekends. His hairstyle has good manners and goes to bed at 9.30 every night. I suspect is it lank and lacking in volume which would make it difficult to work with. (Not everyone can be Carlos Sainz. Would Carlos choose Oscar’s position on the leaderboard over the volume of his hair? Probably.)

Carlos back in the Ferrari days. The building was already burning.

Oscar also has a cowlick, poor sod. An option would be to shave it all off, but as we have seen with Pierre Gasly, this is one risk on the track that might not be worth taking. Or he could go full Aussie occer/okka (How the hell do you spell that?) and get a mullet like Bottas (not an Aussie, but a Viking who is dating an Aussie cyclist and therefor now belongs to us. (Apparently, he once cycled past my street!)) I’m not paid to be Oscar’s stylist, so I’m going to hold back on my other hairstyle suggestions (his People are welcome to contact me) and move on to facial hair. My go-to for a bit of edge is always to add a beard. Keep it short, keep it neat. If I were a man, I would defo have a beard. I recognise that a beard would probably be itchy under the funny little balaclava they have to wear under a helmet. Two words: Fernando Alonso. Case closed.

I’ll be making no further comments about Alonso at this time.

I recognise that some men (whispers) can’t grow beards. Not a problem, there are some fantastic fakes out there, I’ve seen them on TV. A fake beard would actually be a better option because he could whip it off before putting on the helmet and no one would be any the wiser. (Pitt crew would sign an NDA, obvs.)

If for some reason Oscar rejects a fake beard, there’s always the moustache option. Now. Sometimes the drivers do experiment with moustaches over the winter break and it’s entertaining in the new year to see what they’ve cooked up. For a little while there Lando sported a delicate tash with, ahem, a soul patch. The important thing to note is that he recognised the error of his ways and THANK GOODNESS that’s now gone. If Oscar goes for a tash I’d like to see a handlebar Merv Hughes number. A real cookie duster. The other drivers would rib him for it, yes, but winning the actual championship is a great way to shut them all up. For the record, I think Max would admire a good strong tash on Oscar. Tattoos are another idea. I have tried to give myself some more character and edge with the addition of tattoos. A problem is that most tats would be obscured beneath the racing onesie. A face tattoo is the Molotov cocktail of tattoos. There’s no going back and it seems off brand, we’re trying to add some believable edge—such a curveball would lose the trust of readers (sorry, fans). I don’t think it’s a good idea.

Anyway, I’ve just realised that I’m still in my pyjamas and have spent an hour writing about a Formula 1 driver’s hair. As a professional author with serious literary awards to my name, I’m not sure this is good for my brand, however I would like it noted that should Oscar turn up at the Austrian GP with a new melon do, it’s because of my power and influence. Over and out.