Say what you want about ‘Stralia, but they sure do know how to rock a mullet.

Mulletfest 2018 is an actual thing that happened in the small mining town of Kurri Kurri, population 6 000. The town was looking for a way to reinvigorate its economy and, having seen other towns hit gold with obscure festivals, settled on celebrating what happens when you decide the party is at the back.

Right from the outset, interest was high. The Guardian reports:

The glowing press Mulletfest generated when it was announced raised expectations for a bumper event…

In the Chelmsford hotel’s beer garden, a concrete and corrugated iron annex with a Bundaberg Rum polar bear feature wall and no air conditioning, mullets of every stripe have come. Blond surfie mullets; greasy biker mullets; filthy dreadlocked mullets. Achingly sculpted, or boldly free-flowing. Vigorously shampooed or proudly unwashed. Punk and bogan and hipster.

There was even a section for the golden-haired mullet, dubbed the “Ranga” section.

It’s impossible not to love what this festival had to offer:

Those less interested in formal competition can measure their mullets by buying T-shirts and singlets bearing the official Mullet-Meter: a measuring system running down the back of the shirt ranging from the relatively sedate “neck warmer” through to “Joe Dirt”, “ape drape”, “shagable” and the ultimate length, “lifetime legend”.

Was there a junior section? Yes. Was the winner rocking an epic mullet? Hell yes:

The winner, 12-year-old Alex Keavy, wins on a combination of mullet strength and showmanship. He alone thought to use his mullet to its full potential in the dance-off, moshing theatrically to spread it down his front. He began cultivating the style 18 months ago, because “Dad always used to cut my hair, and it was always terrible”.

Alex is gracious in victory, pledging to use some of his $50 prize money to buy his girlfriend a pie. “It’s not a hairstyle, it’s a lifestyle,” he declares. “Thanks to the judges, and to the hotel.”

It is a lifestyle, young man, and we take our trucker hats off and salute you.

The dedication to the cause was, at times, absolute:

Cougar, a 20-year-old sporting a long red number, drove 14 hours from his native Frankston to take part. He drove his ute, licence plate MU113T. “Can’t drive anywhere. Cops see ya, ‘Whoop!’” he complains…

Shane “Shagger” Hanrahan [above] of Denman, who has been growing his mullet since 1986, is awarded best mullet by crowd ovation, and delivers a Churchillian address after sculling Jim Beam from his trophy.

“I dunno what to say, I’m fuckin’ pissed,” he tells the crowd. “Rock on! Fuck you! Fuck youse all!”

Absolute peak ‘Stralia.

It is essential that you head over here and feast your eyes on more mullet magic.

Movember, you’re old news now.

[source:guardian]