Little known fact, flogs are actually amongst Australia’s top exports right next to beef, wool, and Chris Hemsworth. In this edition of Flog Hunting, we set out to explore the Melbourne varieties. You know ’em, you’ve definitely seen ’em, hell, you’re probably one of ’em.
So thanks to our friends at Fireball we’ve broken down the eight types of flog you’ll only find in Melbourne. Try to avoid being one and hit up the free Fireball x Brown Cardigan Hell-O-Ween party at Rubix Warehouse. Cop your tickets here.
1. The ‘Fitzroy’ Flog
The Fitzroy Flog exclusively drinks fair trade coffee and spends their idle hours preaching about ethical consumption… only to actively participate in the passive eviction of working class families in their area.
Suffering only fits their aesthetic if it’s extreme enough to get likes on social media. And unfortunately for the long time residents that find themselves being priced out by a gang of investment bankers, gentrification in relation to the regular poor just isn’t sexy enough of a cause to support. Not in front of other people, anyways.
But hypocrisy be damned! That won’t stop The Fitzroy Flog from “being in touch” with “the proletariat”. Donning the Saturday casual look of overalls, beanies, Vans (increasingly turning into Common Projects), round spectacles, and a permanently unopened Mac Demarco record in their hemp tote bag, this unit is totally “one with the people”.
Bonus: “Hey, have you heard of Tame Impala? They’re pretty chill.”
2. The ‘AFL’ Flog
This flog thinks AFL is on the same level of global relevance as the NBA or EPL and will spend literally hours at the local pub debating it with you.
Physically, their BMI has evolved much like Scotty Cummings’ and, while they could play alright themselves at high school, they now spend their Saturdays with a hot meat pie and cold Great Northern in hand. Thought provoking conversation from this lot regularly involves useless matches of footy from the 90’s and constantly espousing absolute drivel like “How ’bout Darren Jarman’s third quarter heroics in round 12, 1997, eh?”
After a few pints, The AFL Flog‘s battle stats are altered greatly:
Vocal projection: +4
Racial slurs: +4
Pie consumption: +2
Bonus: “Sam Newman’s actually not a bad a bloke…”
3. The ‘What School’d You Go To’ Flog
Could also be known as Demons Supporter Flog. This flog thinks that having attended Scotch College or Melbourne Grammar means that he’s better than you. And you’ll experience nothing sadder than a 1997 graduate desperately clinging onto their time at the “bluestone” or “red brick” as a last bastion of privilege, the same way Sophie Monk desperately clings to remain culturally relevant.
The grand irony for this flog is getting that Arts degree and working as a labourer until he was 29 now means he can’t afford to drop $30K a year on his kid’s education. Ah well, it was fun while it lasted in that single, irritating generation. At least he can still ask Daddy to pay for his MCC membership renewal so he can eat charcuterie off his knees.
Bonus: expect ” ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ every heart beats true” or a variant thereof as their Facebook status literally every time Melbourne wins the footy.
4. The ‘Influencer’ Flog
This flog has confused being pretty enough to never pay for drinks with a viable career. Somewhere along the way, after stumbling on an article in the Herald Sun on the highest paid Instagram accounts, The Influencer Flog decided to put her promising future of being an underemployed communications and PR graduate on permanent hold in order to become a social media influencer.
Granted, their luck hasn’t exactly panned out so far, though they have been able to draw a minimum wage income from peddling bulimia tea to their 5,404 followers comprised mostly of guys between the ages of 15 to 35, as well as impressionable young girls between the ages of 13 to 21.
Bonus: not to worry, mum and dad. The back up plan is to become a Fitness First instructor… or a real estate agent. Same diff.
5. The ‘LinkedIn’ Flog
Cousin to Influencer Flog, this certain kind of flog is more dignified… if only slightly. A common breed in this geography, you made the mistake of making eye contact with them when Friday arvo drinks ran a bit too long. Now, they’re asking you to endorse their soft skills and write them a recommendation.
By day, The LinkedIn Flog is an intern at some shady, small-time car loan company with mostly secretarial duties, and a weekend retail gig at Cotton On. But online, The LinkedIn Flog is a “Direct Finance Intern” with “… specialised experience in B2C and B2B sales…” as well as “CRM”, “… middle-range fashion retail…”, and yes, “… visual merchandising…”. Ignore the litter of failed start-ups in their employment history. Sure, they could just delete them and keep it clean, but this flog needs people to know they’ve been ’round the bend.
Ambitions for the next two years include doing anything but data input and making a large enough graduate salary to afford suits that aren’t from Tarocash.
Bonus: “Hi mate, thanks for connecting with me! Hope your week is going well. Not sure how you are positioned in 2018, however, I work closely with a group of young entrepreneurs of all different professional and ethnic backgrounds who are expanding a high quality network marketing business model and are looking to bring a few ambitious, teachable, and highly motivated individuals that want to create another income stream parallel to………”
6. The ‘International Student’ Flog
This exotic breed of flog in an introduced species, and finds themselves residing in Australia to pursue a Bachelors in Waste-My-Parents’-Money. Hailing from a certain Asian country where the price of labour is cheap, but human life/rights/dignity is cheaper, the defining trait of The International Student Flog is their lack of respect for the local environment (and their $150k luxury car).
When they aren’t chainsmoking cartons of duty free cigarettes in packs of three or more, proving to be a walking hazard on the streets, perfecting the “trendy” bowl cut, or buying all the ugliest pieces of streetwear for clout alone, they can be found hidden in in some public corner taking a picture of something useless with a rub-shit-in-my-eyes filter, later to be posted on WeChat.
Bonus: don’t ask them about their government, their family is being held hostage. Ask me if I’m joking.
7. The ‘Native’ Flog
This flog actively complains about people not being from Melbourne coming in and ‘ruining’ Melbourne, having forgotten that they only arrived four years ago from somewhere on the outer rims of Fremantle.
On weekends, this flog takes it upon themselves to defend the locals by personally staring down out-of-towners from Arcadia or whatever shit pub tickles their fancy.
Ask them whereabouts they grew up and you can watch their eyes dart with the agility of Ben Cousins in the off-seasons after a bit of a sniff-sniff. What follows can only be described as conversational with the precision and efficiency of Bill Shorten being asked to take a solid stance against, well, anything.
Bonus: their dating profile says “oenophile” even though they were draining aluminium sacks of Aldi piss on some farmland four years ago.
8. The ‘Boss Hunting’ Flog
This flog has already run out of ideas and begun scraping the bottom of the barrel a year into the gig. But no matter, their true talent lies in tearing people down as if he has no personal flaws on their own.
Never mind the fact that this is essentially a recycled article with archetypes that are only cosmetically related to Melbourne– because, lets face it, these flogs are fairly universal to most major cities in a Western country.
And never mind the fact that The Boss Hunting Flog has only been to Melbourne, like, twice. He knows the place to a T, based on the nine people from Melbourne he personally knows.
Bonus: thought I wouldn’t have an insurance policy in this edition? I know you motherfuckers, try me in the comments, jabronis.
Related: 8 flogs you’ll only find in Sydney.
This article is proudly presented in partnership with FIREBALL. Thank you for supporting the sponsors who help make Boss Hunting possible.