Mullet over
I’VE long believed that Australia’s only serious contributions to world culture are the flat white, the barbecue and the phrase “chuck a sickie”, although on days when I’m feeling generous I’ve been known to throw in Nick Cave and Prisoner: Cell Block H. Perhaps, though, I should also be adding Warwick Capper to that list. 

You’re an erudite crowd, so I’m sure you’re familiar with the man known as The Wiz. If not, he was a full-forward with Aussie Rules team the Sydney Swans in the late 1980s and early 1990s, and his on-field achievements were considerable. I lived in Sydney at the time and I can remember watching him play. 

But it is not for his sporting prowess that he’s most fondly remembered – it’s for his shocking blonde mullet. And it’s that much-maligned. but really rather splendid haircut which is Australia’s other contribution to world culture. Or so the organisers of the inaugural Mulletfest think. 
This event took place last weekend in New South Wales, at a small town called Kurri Kurri, which lays claim to being a sort of Ground Zero where the mullet is concerned. “There’s a school of thought from our locals that they have had the mullets for the longest,” says publican Laura Johnson, the organiser of the festival. “We’ve got folks here that have been sporting their mullet haircut for over 60 years.” 

So while Warwick Capper is the poster-boy for the Australian mullet, these guys are the originators.

Having only sported his mullet for 46 years, Laurie Manurele could be termed an arriviste. But even so, he drove 12 hours to take part in the festival’s mullet contest. “The quality of mullets here today is absolutely unbelievable,” he cooed. “It’s amazing what’s out there. Australia is the capital of the world for mullets.” 

Another contestant was Lloyd Martin, for whom the wearing of a mullet amounts to a rite of passage. If you’re Australian, he said, “you’ve got to grow a mullet at least once in your lifetime. It’s not a hairstyle, it’s a lifestyle”. 

A word of caution, however, from 12-year-old Alex Keavy, who won the Junior Division title. “All my friends keep telling me that they want one,” he said. “But I don’t think a lot of people can wear it properly.”
A lot of people, I feel, are never going to try. Their loss though, eh?

Letters not use it
CHINA has banned the letter N from the internet. It’s a curious move given that it’s contained in the country’s name and will make it very hard to order wonton in future. 

It is even more curious when you consider that no-one seems to know what the authorities find so offensive or dangerous about the letter. The best guess is that it might have something to do with a way you could possibly be seen to be criticising Chinese leader Xi Jinping. 

What is (slightly) less unfathomable is the reasoning behind a long list of other words, names and phrases which have also been banned online. These have been helpfully catalogued by the website China Digital Times. Some, such as “personality cult”, “lifelong control” and “incapable ruler”, are kind of obvious. Some, such as “take the yellow gown” and “trust this woman is willing to be a vegetarian for the rest of her life”, require more cultural context than I’m afraid I’m qualified to give. 

And some are just plain bonkers, in which category I have to place Winnie The Pooh and a song called Another 500 Years For Heaven.

Apparently, images from the Disney film about the honey-loving bear have been used in memes to mock Jinping in the past, while the song was used as the theme tune to Kangxi Dynasty, a mini-series that aired in 2001. It’s quite catchy, actually, though any biting political satire contained in the lyrics was lost on me. 

Charity Trumped
TO Iceland now – are you enjoying this week’s international flavour? – and a woman after my own heart – First Lady Eliza Reid, who not only showed her support for the #MeToo anti-harassment movement by wearing black to Iceland’s version of the Oscars but rocked up wearing a jacket she had bought in a charity shop in Reykjavik.  I don’t think there’s a People’s Dispensary For Sick Animals outlet in Beverly Hills – I’m sure I’d know if there was, I do love a good charity shop – but if there is it might soon find itself packed with A-listers on the lookout for bargains. And for the chance to indulge in a little virtue signalling too.

But don’t expect America’s First Lady to follow suit (’scuse the pun).

Melania Trump has long shown a penchant for high-end European designers, which somewhat flies in the face of her husband’s America First message. Mind you, even if she did want to wear American fashions she might struggle: Tom Ford is just one of several US designers who said ahead of Donald Trump’s inauguration that they wouldn’t dress the First Lady. 

That unchivalrous and vaguely treasonous comment brought Ford a sharp rebuke from El Donaldo. 

As for Melania’s off-the-rack clothes, they’re provided for her by a personal shopper. His name is Herve Pierre and he also had a hand in designing the First Lady’s inauguration gown. “What is challenging is when I cannot say what it is for,” he told the New York Times late last year. “I always ask: ‘Was it already on the red carpet? Did somebody already wear it?’ Because I don’t want her to be on the Who Wore It Better list.” 

As I know from experience, that rarely happens when your clothes come from charity shops. But if there’s a Who Wore It First Then Put It In A Bin Bag And Dumped It Outside Shelter list, then I admit it could be an issue. Though not for Icelandic First Lady Eliza Reid, obviously.

What the KFC?
CLOSER to home, you may remember that Kentucky Fried Chicken recently announced it had run low on chicken. Not exactly a crisis on the scale of Brexit, or the Trump presidency, or what will happen if Meghan Markle gets to the Windsor branch of Barnardo’s to buy a wedding dress on May 18 and they don’t happen to have any. But, in the world of fast food, a bit of an embarrassment to say the least.

Or was it? Was it actually a carefully planned publicity stunt? The jury’s out, although it’s fair to say that as a result of its chicken scarcity the company received an awful lot of publicity – not all of it good, admittedly – and then pulled off something of a coup with its much-publicised apology. If you haven’t seen it, they’ve rearranged the letters KFC into a vowel-less approximation of a certain four-letter word. The one you might whisper under your breath if you were the person responsible for ordering the chicken in the first place. Cue applause from admiring ad executives and marketing experts, and knowing chuckles from consumers. Perhaps, though, the plaudits are a little premature. It transpired last week that the fast-food chain is now running low on gravy.