Bondi: tongue-in-cheek, of course

There are certain words and phrases you get used to overhearing when you live in Bondi:

Rig, buff, ripped, cut, press-ups often leads to – “how many can you bench, mate?”

F-45, abs, crunches, dips often leads to – “how many can you dip, mate?”

Vegan, keto, no carbs often leads to – “how many can you (insert impressive body function here), mate?”

Grassy Knoll

A skim, almond, soy, coconut milk (insert coffee choice here)

When at a Bondi bank – “Save $300 as your preferred transaction amount?” 

Which yacht weeks are you doing in Europe this season?

Tanning.

So when I came across the article in Semi-Rad “ We Salute You, Guy Wearing Shorts All Winter” I thought it’d be criminal not to point out the plight of the unstylish Bondi-ite.

That’s me, perhaps. And my father for certain. Unless its now cool to wear shorts all year round. I never do see dad in anything but a pair of shorts. Oh, Funerals and Weddings. When it’s really cold? He’ll throw on a jacket and double up the socks; a la Dumb and Dumber scene where Lloyd kindly offers his second pair of gloves to a gloveless Harry. “Here, maybe you should wear these extra gloves… my hands are getting kinda sweaty! … “

Me wear a beanie in 30°C? you bet. Olsen sized sunnies and an assortment of hats? also me. One must do anything to hide and hydrate through a hangover endured in the blazing Aussie sun.

I’m not a member of a gym either, which is a little sacrilegious I know. And when I work-out? I wear K-Mart, or old gear that I’d once have worn to 5am swimming sessions – which have seen better days; now hanging by threads and non elasticated elastic. Not overtly interested in Instagramming every workout I’ve worn LuLuLemon to and I’m guessing you’re not either so will save you the little red circular notification.
But to be fair, no-one I knew as a child who was a serious athlete ever worked out on the muscle-beach style circuit stations next to the North Bondi Surf Club. I was even confused when they upgraded it; being personally unimpressed by muscly men who work-out in tight white Speedos – It’d slipped my attention that it’d become the place to go and be seen.

What about growing up in Bondi? Well, you didn’t have to be all that trendy to move from the newsagent to the local chicken shop to the surf club then back to the chicken shop again. It was delightfully simple and far less crowded.

Of course, those of us who can’t escape the lure of the Gram and would like to keep up with the current day happenings around the little Bondi Bubble, follow @TheBondiWanker on Instagram. I interviewed him way back when and can vouch for his accuracy.

Moral of the story? If you’re worried about your look, your dad-bod or running out of shorts, don’t be. Wear your gut proudly over your shorts and just be thankful you don’t live in sub-freezing temperatures ….

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