> Cuisine seems to be universalized in the west
Far from it. I think you take a narrow view of what cuisine is. It's not just foods; it's preparation methods, it's how you eat them, it's where you get them, it's the cultural significance placed upon them, it's the stereotypes associated with them, it's
It's not just food cooked at home nor restaurant food; it's fast food, it's the localised version of what should be American once it hits foreign shores, it's the Americanised version of what should be foreign once it hits American shores, it's the localised version of the Americanised version of the foreign thing.
It's the snacks that you eat, it's the soda you drink, it's the choice of flavours, it's the stereotypes associated with those — the very idea that Mountain Dew goes with Doritos, the very fact that Mountain Dew is sufficiently in peoples' consciousness instead of another drink.
Examples to follow:
> Everyone eats the same stuff
I really doubt Americans know what a meat pie, in the New Zealand sense, is, the significance of them to a typical New Zealand childhood, or the knowledge that there's nothing quite as tasty as getting one from a petrol station. Even if they are acquainted with putting beef mince and chunks of cheddar cheese inside a flaky pastry, I doubt it occurs to any to consider it a handheld snack. I'm sure a French person is more likely to reach for a Croque Monsieur any day.
Brits put completely different condiments on fish and chips than New Zealanders do. We wouldn't dream of combining that dish with vinegar and mushy peas, and they wouldn't dream of putting it with tomato sauce. Neither of us, on the other hand, would dream of putting it in a basket; that's much more American, since the rest of the world is content with old newspapers for wrapping. My South African husband tells me they don't always fillet the fish over there; on the other hand, coming to New Zealand nearly twenty years ago was the first time he'd seen batter on a sausage with a stick shoved up the bottom, what we call "hot dogs" but Americans call "corn dogs".
By the way, it's "takeaways" for us, not "take out". It seems like it's only a word, but it actually carries a different connotation as to what constitutes as food suitable for going out to eat and bring home; it's never quite right unless it's a Chinese family yelling sweetly to each other in Cantonese, a combination of traditional and Americanised 'Chinese' food jumbled up on a menu that is ultimately ignored in favour of the $20 fish and chip special. If we do go to the big fast food chains, we certainly don't have biscuits with our KFC (because they don't sell those), nor does our Maccas (that's McDonald's to most of you) offer poutine like they do in Canada, chicken wings like they do in Asia, and nor will anybody outside of New Zealand ever quite know what a Georgie Pie is — something so near and dear to New Zealanders of a certain age's hearts, to dismiss it as yet another fast food item is to spit in the aforementioned poutine in front of a Quebecker.
Even American candy is different when it hits different regions. I've not seen a local offering that tastes of whatever 'Blue Raspberry' is supposed to be, but it seems to be that every candy has a blue raspberry flavour in the States. A friend of mine is sending candies that taste of cinnamon, something that would seem completely foreign outside of a speciality store here. Even then, I keep saying 'candy'; I should be using the local lingo, they're lollies.
Our Coke is much less sweet than in America, so we use it for different things, different occasions. We mix it with raspberry-flavoured fizzy drink (not 'soda') to add more sweetness; we don't typically flavour things with cherry. We know what it means to "drink the Kool-Aid" but the reference is completely imported via Jonestown; no gullible person in my country is said to "drink the Raro", just as I'm sure Kia Ora or Jungle Juice is not the exclusive domain of British suicide cults.
Don't even start me on food from the American South. My friend swears up and down to me that deep-fried pickles are a thing, and I just can't see it. I hear that tea, being sweet, is "sweet tea" there and the default form of tea; the nations of the Commonwealth do put sugar in their tea sometimes, but not to the same extent. Tea is for a cloud of milk, not for twice as much sugar as in a bottle of (American) Coke!
While we're on it, biscuits are little circular discs of goodness, so are cookies, and scones are bready things. When Americans talk about chicken and biscuits, the idea just fails to parse in practically everybody else's minds.
> Fashion, similarly, is almost in lock-step everywhere around the western world
High fashion, perhaps, but that's because it's ruled by European fashion houses anyway. In businesses, sure, because business fashion is almost a sort of uniform.
Meanwhile, the style on the street, depending on the street, can be quite different. What the typical New Zealander wears in the summer might frighten a typical American. Our summer get-ups are frequently incompatible with the American "no shirt, no shoes, no service", such that we'd never get into any establishments over there were we to bring our fashion with us on holiday.
If I fail to put shoes on in a New Zealand city, the only thing people will wonder is if my feet are cold if the temperature drops below 20°C. In Australia, make that 24°C. In any other major Western nation's cities, I'm either poor, on drugs, or a complete maniac whose flouting of social conventions around decency are so flagrant that my failure to think of the children will warrant deportation! — or so goes the stereotype, which can only exist because ideas around fashion differ so much.
There's plenty yet to explore on those two topics alone that I've not covered. These things are far from universalised. In a world where an American or British tourist can get their home comforts quite easily overseas, it might seem that way; the New Zealander who simply wants the childhood favourite of a Marmite (our stuff, not the runny British gunk) sandwich on a slice of Vogel's bread whilst travelling around, we're shit out of luck; the realisation will hit us much faster than our cuisine isn't your cuisine.
For me, this will be made all too apparent when I completely fail to find a pair of jandals to make shod my offensively bare feet — only to realise I should be asking for flip-flops.