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September 20, 2015 | by  | in Fashion |
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A field guide to bro archetypes

Spending my formative first year suffering vitamin D deficiency within the depths of the third floor “dungeon” of Te Puni not only enabled prime observation of White Sandal syndrome, but also resulted in mass exposure to Dudebro culture. Despite the subsequent emotional trauma, residual inability to drink at a remotely responsible pace in any social context whatsoever, and blatant refusal to ever live in Kelburn again*, this experience has refined my abilities to discern the subtle variations between various bro archetypes. As far as life skills go, this is one which proves to be largely inapplicable outside of Tinder, but if it prevents having to endure even a sole instance of some gym brah mansplaining his workout regime and/or budding DJ career at you, it almost compensates for the psychologically scarring immersive experience.

Subtype #1: The Standard “Fuccboi”

Decked out in nothing but box logos, the fuccboi would undoubtedly have had a top knot when it was a thing (if you hadn’t gotten the memo, this is it). Bucket hats and Nike slides are heavily featured, I assume with the intention of irony, but unfortunately coming across more along the “tourist wearing velcro sandals with socks, a bumbag and sunglasses on a string” vibe.

Subtype #2: Ralph Lauren junkie

A popular divergent species of the standard “I did law last trimester but didn’t like it (drank on weeknights and failed) so now I major in accounting” dudebro is the Ralph Lauren polo-wearer. Often paired with a cringingly matchy-matchy Ralph Lauren cap and boat shoes, the dress code is essentially “upper-middle class suburban dad whose weekends are spent playing tennis and attending brunch on the viaduct, where his obnoxiously large boat is moored.” Those shirts scream “mummy chose this for me.” Also “mummy paid for the hole I punched in the wall”, “haha send me a pic ;)” and “I drink Purple Goannas because Cindys are no longer in production.”

Subtype #3: I Love Ugly enthusiast

Similarly clean-cut as the Ralph Lauren fanboys, the crucial point of difference is the ILU enthused further foray into the realms of lad culture. These are your shirtless gym-selfie-taking, five-panel sporting guys whose Tinder profile consists of five club photos of them and “the boys”, providing a quick oversight of every single print ILU has released this season, just in case you couldn’t be bothered flipping through the Lookbook.

Disclaimer: This isn’t intended as a critique, it is mere observation of my own social reality.

*Every time you complain about scaling the hill up to Kelburn, I invite you to imagine doing so in six-inch heels. Welcome to my life.

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