Ask any immigrant about making friends in Perth and many will mention the city’s cliquiness.
I didn’t really believe it until I experienced for myself, but when I did, it almost floored me.
A while ago, someone I had met briefly invited me and my husband to a party at her home. I always get a bit nervous when meeting new people so I accepted with a slight feeling of terror – only just outweighed by the thought that I might meet some interesting potential friends.
It was to be a fancy dress party – not usually my idea of fun. But I had pledged to say yes to everything until I could afford to be choosy, and I genuinely liked the woman who had invited us, so I spent the best part of a weekend sourcing material for my costume and sewing it up into my best attempt at Madonna’s equestrian look from her Confessions on a Dancefloor tour. Another evening was spent hunting for a hat to reinforce the fact that my other half looks uncannily like a certain Irish rock star.
We deliberately arrived unfashionably early at the party, hoping we could get chatting to people before the craziness started. The hostess was lovely. She recognised me (no mean feat as we had only met for half an hour and I had since changed my two most distinctive features – my glasses and my hair) and welcomed us into her home like she’d known us for years.
But it was her birthday, and she had a party to throw. So we headed out to the garden, where the other guests were congregating around the firepits set up to take the chill off the winter’s evening, and set about being sociable.
The first conversation lasted about 30 seconds. After politely responding to my compliments on her outfit and my (admittedly not very original) question as to how she knew the host, my first target headed over to the drinks table, never to return. The second actually turned her back on me as I attempted small talk by the fire. The third moved away as quickly as she could after my initial approach, and never acknowledged me again. At no point did anyone ask me what my costume was – which left me wondering if they thought I normally paraded around in a lacy blouse with a basque over it, keep-fit leggings and knee-high boots.
Perhaps I should have kept trying. But frankly I was scared of being rejected again. And as the evening wore on, it became physically quite difficult, as impenetrable huddles formed around the house and garden. Not wanting to offend the woman who had invited us – and still slightly hopeful that someone might speak to us – we stuck it out for another couple of hours. But it wasn’t until we were about to leave that anyone even seemed to notice we were in the room – and that was only because our lovely host decided to award a prize to my other half for the best lookalike of the night.
I woke up the next morning feeling angry at what had happened. I questioned my own actions. I know I can be an acquired taste, but had my behaviour really been so off-putting? All I had done was express an interest in some people.
I felt – and still feel – no ill will towards the host of the party. She was warm and friendly and did her best to make us feel welcome. And I think she would be appalled if she realised how her friends had treated us.
But I’ve since heard many similar tales from immigrant friends. The western suburbs wedding where one was actively excluded from conversations; the invitations to dinner parties known as ‘Perth promises’ because they never arrive.
And it seems many born and bred Perthites are aware of the city’s reputation for cliquiness too. I ranted about the party on Twitter the morning after and I got many sympathetic responses – and genuine invitations from locals who were horrified by their fellow citizens’ behaviour.
As I get ready to move to Melbourne, I can’t help wondering what it will be like there. I hope more people are more open to newcomers – although I suspect my Madonna outfit wouldn’t raise an eyebrow in this most quirkily-dressed of cities.
Ok well this is frigging disgusting behaviour. I cannot believe how unsociable people can be at social events!
I have a few things to say to you – move to Queensland we’re slow and friendly here! lol.
My partner spent years in Melbourne and I just asked him and he said Melbs is also pretty cliquey. Dad lived there for a year and I know he didn’t make friends but he doesn’t (real men don’t have friends! haha).
A lecturer of mine is studying cultures in some capacity and actually just recently told everyone that it is Australian culture to say ‘oh yeah we’ll catch up over a beer’ etc as more of a goodbye, there is no real intention behind it in general. When I ask myself if I do this, I do! I don’t want to seem rude, and particularly if I’m in a hurry or just want to go I say ‘well anyway really good to see/meet you we’ll have to have a coffee one day’. A lot of times I don’t feel my invitation would be accepted if I extended one because I know the other person also smiles and says “yeah sure” when really they think “no don’t”.
I moved to Sydney completely solo knowing noone for a year a couple of years ago, and I found there that although people were quite friendly to my face I could meet them 5 times and they wouldn’t remember me – even if they’d spilled their guts about personal stuff. Having said that, I got out there and went to events and said yes to everything and made some amazing friends. I could count them on one hand but that was all I needed and it took a shitload of effort on my part.
I just feel for you, we aren’t all rude. What those women did to you in Perth is just RUDE and whoever they are…why I oughta…
x
And your costume sounds hot I hope you get to re-wear it!
Dear, i read your post in a single line (as reading a suspence story).
I am loosing my English and feel awkward to express. I hope you’ll understand what i mean.
Mainly people are not wishing for meeting new friends, they just want to be seen, and be seen at their best.
So when trying to meet a soul which is supposed to be within the personn, they might turn away to be not discoverded in their meanness.
You put your heart into sewing the costume, never minding how scared or shy about this party to happen.
Do you have the word “frivolous”, or “frivolity” ? It means (in French) the varnish we cover our epiderm with, Our inner part cannot be thrown up in a group or in certain circumstances. Our tenderness of heart has no place in a swarm gathered for competition and rivalry.
We are not all meant to be popular, or the brilliant easy-going charactor of the crowd. Parties are a pill to swollow (monthly, or trimestrialy according to your pace). It is only about being in an assembly of people, and trying to keep on being attractive, and not to be pointed as a suspicionable person who enjoy a quiet life, then we would only attract jealousy upon you.
In a couple of month, this episod will be disgested, and we will merely reccall the smile of your hostess, and the fake of the scene will turn to be an interesting item to meditate about.
Warmly yours,
Marta Lloyd née Freitag..
That is a pretty awful experience to have.
Personally I think that one problem with a great many Australians is that they have simply never left their own postcode. Since Australia is far away from everywhere else, and Perth is the remotest place on earth, many probably never will.
When someone who has travelled halfway around the world to be in their presence actually is, they simply don’t understand it and don’t want to be reminded that there is a great big world out there that they have no idea about and probably never will.
There are insular people like this in every country. It is unfortunate that you had to be stranded amongst so many of them!
Thanks for all your comments. So far I have not found Melbourne so bad, so maybe I was just unlucky in Perth. And I’m afraid the Madonna outfit got recycled when I was pruning my belongings for the move interstate…