You know a lot of Leos are being displaced at the moment? Moving all over the place. Relocating is the latest Leo form of chic. It’s not always easy, but it’s part of the Leonic Journey…There are many Leos on the move at the moment – this is just one of them.
So i’m a Leo – fabulous as fuq, a legend in my own (hopefully paid for by someone else) lunchtime. So I followed all the guidelines to the Zap Zone. Stay stuck and be fuqed – adapt and get ahead. It seemed easy enough? In my head I was clearly moving to New York to pursue an enviable media career in a loft style apartment close to Chelsea, maybe, maybe the Lower East Side, definitely not Brooklyn. I’d wear Hermes suits and go to fabulous parties and fly back to Sydney and wonder how I ever lived in a city so small.
After 6 years of living the champagne lifestyle on a beer budget I had done all the things I wasn’t supposed to, met all the people I had ever wanted to meet and had absolutely nothing to show for it. To top it off I just turned 30. 30!!
Broke, virtually unemployed, still working part-time in my university job with a bunch of socialist agrarian baby-boomer hippies I needed to start my career. So when I was offered a position working for Darwin’s biggest commercial radio station as a music announcer and producer in the news team I sort of freaked. Darwin is a tropical outpost situated somewhere between the Timor Gulf and Indonesia, closer to Asia than the rest of Australia, it boasts some of the deadliest wildlife in the world. In the words of David Byrne “where does that highway go to?” North!!
In lieu of no New York job offers I packed up my life in Newtown, Sydney and left. The only place I was prepared to live in Darwin was in a brand new sub-penthouse apartment in what was described as an enviable part of town. The heat got to me first. After a week of persevering in boat shoes and American Apparel nautical trousers with tan pre-aged belt-buckle I finally gave in. I bought a ten-dollar pair of board shorts from a meth-amphetamine addict in a mall. Brianna explained black board shorts and a black singlet was considered formal wear in Darwin.
I threw out all the ironic vintage Hawaiian shirts next. Irony doesn’t exist here. I shaved off my hipster moustache too. It’s as if the early 90’s never ended. Anything that’s intended to be taken ironically will be taken literally here. As for my blue Mercedes-Benz with Greenpeace stickers? Forget it. If you’re not driving a white Toyota Hilux covered in red dirt with a couple of rifles in the back seat then you might as well just order a mineral water from the Humpty-doo Tavern (DO NOT ORDER MINERAL WATER FROM THE HUMPTY-DOO TAVERN!!).
But of course the most pressing issue was who was going to have the privilege of cutting my mane? I did the sums and the price of flying to Sydney, as loyal a Leo as I might be, just to see my hairdresser, was slightly insane. Even by my standards. The zap-zone was meant to be all about innovation I reasoned. I would have to adapt!! I noticed a red and white pole in the city. I had my ah-ha moment!! I would get a real barbers do from a real barber. He would be 100 years old and probably charge me five dollars for a shave and a cut. I would return to Sydney for fun-filled weekends with glamorous friends as a pre-eminent Darwin celebrity with hipster haircut from actual old-school barber. Not tattoo-covered Generation Z charging me $80 for a men’s cut in Surry Hills.
When I walked into the barber store I was shocked to be greeted by ‘Shane’ – a tattoo-covered Generation Z LEO with diamond stud. He explained that he couldn’t be bothered going to the bank anymore, besides cash is so 90’s, and would I mind using my credit card? As I sat down in a ironic barber salon surrounded by photos of Madonna and Sting and plastic indoor palms he assured me $80 for a men’s cut was pretty standard in Darwin. We’re going out for sushi next week. What have I learned? There are Leo Enclaves everywhere. Just bring it, Darwin.
Nick tweets @NickHose and is a broadcaster at NT station Hot 100