From the country tavern to Collins Street, these are the five types of blokes you’ll find wearing the iconic Aussie boots we’ve come to know and love.
The Concrete Cowboy
“Greatness only comes before hustle in the dictionary.”
The Concrete Cowboy struts into the boardroom like it’s an old west saloon. With the family lawyer on speed dial in his holster and a direct line to the Chairman in the same phonebook (who also happens to be his godfather), he’s ready to climb the corporate ladder in one of his two-suits-for-a-grand from MJ Bale.
Don’t be fooled by the Longhorn air freshener dangling from the rear-view mirror of his 2011 3 Series, the Concrete Cowboy is seldom involved with actual agriculture. In fact, his RM’s have never spent a single day in the red dirt, despite his father being one of Australia’s largest landholders. The closest he’s ever come to living, breathing livestock – aside from the “undesirables” ambling past the front end of the plane towards cattle class – is when he orders a well-done sirloin at Bistecca on the client account.
The Cinderella Guy
“We’re in God’s country, mate.”
At the stroke of 5:00 PM on a Friday, the Cinderella Guy will switch out his black boardroom numbers for his “bush pair” of R.M. Williams. Stepping into his Pumpkin Carriage Range Rover Sport for a weekend away from the “big smoke”… at his parents’ Mornington Peninsula horse stud.
Country accent on full tilt, gilet vest popping, you’ll never have to ask what he did last weekend – because he’ll intentionally leave his car unwashed, just to let everyone know he off-roads on the gravel driveway. But by 9:30 AM on a Monday, he’s got his glass slippers business RMs back on, and can be found ordering a soy latte around the corner from his Albert Park terrace on a morning walk with some breed of non-working dog (probably a Frenchie).
The Ressie in the Members’ Stand
“Full credit to the boys.”
The Reserves Player in the Members’ Stand desperately clings to the delusion he “could’ve played footy professionally” had it not been for his “bad knee.” At the same time, he rocks up in an Uber five minutes before every one of his weekend matches, dusty as hell, with a Gatorade and KFC original recipe box in tow. Incidentally, every one of his mates seems to be playing in first grade, except him.
Once he cleans himself up and chucks on his Chocolate Suede RMs, however, he’s quite the good-looking rooster. Hovering around a charcuterie board in the MCC members, he’ll cycle between grazing, attempts at networking, and telling whoever will listen that “the dees are 9 and 0.” If you didn’t know any better, this was a bloke you wouldn’t mind sinking some pints with. That is until he opens his mouth and claims to be mates with Eddie McGuire.
The Intern
“Hi there, I’m looking to grow my LinkedIn network and was wondering if you wanted to connect/exchange ideas…”
A gift card for “something special” from Nan at Christmas was the Intern’s only way of attaining this god-tier footwear because he didn’t realise he could’ve paid it off with his pocket money via Afterpay. A Concrete Cowboy in the making, he’ll brag about working for a Big Four company on Hinge, fully unaware it’s helping his chances with the fairer sex in the same way Pete Evans is helping science. In reality, firing off an unsolicited lecture about his crypto portfolio at unsuspecting females is the prospect that really makes his chinos tighten.
Seasonal migrations to the Whitsundays where he’ll go “sailing” on daddy’s catamaran are also well within observed behaviour. There, he will strip bare and attempt a mating call by torpedoing his F45 physique into the digital watering hole: Instagram. Alas, to no avail. Perhaps when he upgrades from his Rolex Explorer II they’ll come running.
The Real Bushman
“How ya goin’?”
Wearing R.M. Williams is this man’s birthright. Occasionally, he’ll spot an urban operator in full farm footwear out for lunch in Coogee and wonder where the bloody hell the cattle are. The answer? On the city slicker’s plate. A pair of RMs may last a lifetime, but when you wear them like this bloke – i.e. for the intended use – you can never have enough kicking around. As the only level-headed fella on this who’s who of the human zoo, he cops ’em in four easy instalments with Afterpay quicker than a brumby on the run from the ropes.
No matter what category you no doubt fit into – or furiously deny any allegiance with – one thing we can all agree on is that R.M. Williams is the most versatile shoes a man can own.
