Culture

Upon hearing that Critic staff member Sam Soppett was denied from clubs for wearing jandals and had to spend the rest of his night drinking at The Craic (could be worse), I wanted to push the boundaries of Dunedin town’s unspoken dress code. What are the limits, and why? But more importantly: how hot/insane can I look while bending said rules? 

To put together a combo of looks that definitely weren’t themed posthumously, I raided Culture Editor Lotto’s vibrant wardrobe (self-described as “gay vampire confused about what year it is”) and convinced fellow staff writer Jodie to tag along. Despite this being my idea, I didn’t really want to do it alone, and since I present as male, someone female-presenting might get a different reaction. I also couldn’t fit the wedding dress. You’ll see. 

Fit 1: Gym Wear & Oodie 

Category is: ‘Dusty Dairy Chic’

I first wanted to test out the baseline by wearing something that was peculiar to see at the clubs, but not altogether wrong. So, with minimal convincing, Jodie was on her way to meet me in town, dressed in her finest Quokka-print Oodie. If you can wear one to the supermarket at 9:30pm, why not the clubs? I, on the other hand, went with my old basketball jersey from high school (yes, I was in the A-team, and no, we weren’t that good), along with the baggiest shorts, D-Rose 9’s, and a Critic cap. 

First stop on the list was Carousel. We nervously waited to greet the bouncer, who checked our IDs and said “yep” without even a second glance. Somewhere amidst our surprise, our journalism instincts kicked in, and so we asked if he would forecast there being any issues at other clubs with what we were wearing. According to Mr Bouncer, my basketball singlet is more likely to be turned away than the Oodie, although other staff members were later confused as to why Jodie was looking snug as a bug. We approached some girls (who looked a little hesitant at the sight of Jodie’s attire) and asked what the craziest fit they wore into town was: a teletubby costume, one said. Tinky Winky, to be specific. They did also tell us that they don’t tend to remember outfits when drunk – which we hoped to be true, for our sake. 

After this minor victory, we then moved on to Brew Bar, where they insisted on checking my baggy sports shorts (in case a jock had snuck in). Jodie also had to lift up the Oodie – and twirl?? Was this really necessary? – to make sure she wasn’t smuggling in anything sus. Everyone knows the only thing people hide under Oodies is their dignity. A friendly table outside Brew Bar told us that they’d seen someone sporting a shirt with holes cut out for their nipples, Regina George Core. Next time, we’ll try army pants and flip flops. 
Jodie’s Oodie managed to receive two particularly dirty looks (it was almost impressive how seething they were) from a staff member, so we figured it was about time to leave. We managed to get into Subs with no issues. The bartender remarked that she had “seen it all” but Spider-Man was her favourite recurring patron. 

Fit 2: Yaoi Beach Fit & Sexy Prisoner (with Fur Coat)

Category is ‘Fashion crimes’

After a quick costume change in the Woof! bathrooms, we soldiered out for round two and to hit some new clubs. I was wearing yellow shorts and a highly questionable anime shirt (thanks, Lotto), topped with a blue and white striped overshirt and slides. Naturally, Jodie wore a sexy prisoner costume (thanks, Lotto???) to complement, though this was overshadowed by the coat: a vintage possum fur monstrosity that weighed 20kg and was decaying at the seams. Jodie claimed that the only thing criminal about this outfit was the frosty breeze hitting her upper thighs, exclaiming, “If I wore just the prison outfit I’d be let in, but a lot of things would be let out.” Fingers crossed for no prison breaks. 

We hit Vault 21 which we were told would be the most strict, but didn’t run into any issues  besides the sticky floors and bad music. Next up was Social Club, and again: no issues, even though I was wearing softcore porn and Jodie could have been wearing roadkill. Unsure what that says about Dunners. So, we asked. The bartender told us that the weirdest costume he’d ever seen there was a hotdog, and the manager mentioned that I looked like a cartoon character. We asked some girls on the dance floor about weird fits they’d seen in town too, but they took this as an opportunity to dunk on their friend. We weren’t interested in talking shit, so we left, possum-skin swinging in the stagnant air. We may not be the fashion police, but we are the Friend Police now: Girl, get better friends. Critic thinks you slay hard. 

We went to Cats, and finally I was denied! The bouncer checked my ID, looked over to the other bouncer who shook their head and said, “Nah.” The slides, or the sight of the dogs on display, were the issue. Jodie was all good to go, though, even though at this point in the night the possum fur coat had gotten HOT. She was afraid she’d actually commit a crime by moving too much in the prison outfit alone. 

Fit 3: Road Cone & Wedding Dress

Category is: ‘Loml’

It was time to slay. I put my trustworthy Docs back on, but had to don the dreaded Critic Cone. Jodie wore Lotto’s floor-length vintage wedding dress, and remarked that even her grandma's wedding dress in the ‘60s was skankier. Fair enough; the dress was about one ruffle away from making Jodie look like she was about to sing a musical number with the pigeons or churn butter. A shot of liquid courage was required, and then we went on our way. 

Walking through town, we drew immediate attention and compliments. We walked past a group of friends comforting a girl who was throwing up (her mum was coming to get her it’s chill). They said they loved our outfits (omg stop it) and we asked if they had been denied from the club. We’d been told by Critic’s design intern Connor that he’d been rejected from Vault for wearing shorts (I got in fine lol). New friend Zoe said she got denied for wearing sandals: “They were nice sandals too.” Charlotte said, “If you flirt with the bouncer it helps if you are wearing crocs. Just be extra nice and you will be fine.” They all agreed it depended on the bouncer. 

The wedding dress got a few ‘wtf’ looks from bartenders. Maybe Jodie needed to show more ankle or give a little curtsy. It did, admittedly, stand out a bit among all the halter tops and jeans. Jodie asked a nearby girl if she thought that Jodie would be allowed in –  she replied by pointing to a breatha with a bucket hat and jorts and said, “If he got in, you really should.” While Jodie got odd looks from people, my presenting-maleness gave me the benefit of admiration from all the drunk strangers coming up to me saying, “Fuck yeah!” 

Throughout the night, my cone costume was confused for a tomato sauce bottle, a carrot, and a clownfish, with one girl running up to me and exclaiming: “Finding Nemo!” It wasn’t all sunshine though. The wedding dress got stood on a lot, and in Vault 21 some cunt hit the top off of my cone costume and smacked my head in the process. The Friend Police are onto you, dude. 
We then headed down to XYZ to see what was up, only to find that they were closing for the night. Still, we had a good yarn with the bouncer, who was adamant that staff usually love seeing costumes and weird get-ups as it makes the night more interesting. “As long as you’re not off your face or too scruffy pretty much anything goes,” he told us. The wedding dress was gaining some unwanted male attention for Jodie, with one guy holding up the train to be nice (or maybe he wanted to see some ankle). 

Fit 4: Lots and lots of clothes

Category is: “More is more is more is more is more is more”

No more outfits for Jodie. Just me. And my entire wardrobe. At least twelve shirts, three jerseys, one sweater vest, two overshirts, two coats, and a desperate need for this to end. I headed back to town to notice that the lines were fucking huge (go home, it’s like 1am). Luckily, I got back into Carousel to talk to the bouncer who’d been kind to us all night. When he saw my many clothes he was fine with it (I wasn’t, you try wearing almost 20 layers indoors) so I asked if he would have suspected me smuggling in alcohol, to which he replied,“No. I just think of Joey from Friends.” Embracing my inner Joey (I don’t fucking know, I’m not a millennial), I mentioned I was denied from Cats due to my slides. The bouncer was curious, and he wondered if you'd get away with slides if you wore a three piece suit. Shoutout to that Caro bouncer: he talked about how much he cares about student safety, plus, he’s a Critic fan. I went in, had a boogie (with my limited range of motion), chatted to Leo Lilley (read Local Produce) and called it a night. It took me many minutes to get undressed for bed.