HOW THE CREATIVE CAPITAL OF AUSTRALIA CAME TO BE.

Melbourne. Eclectic and vibrant, we all know it’s the true cultural hub of this country (sorry Sydney.)

What isn’t to love? It’s fun, creative and unique, and (as obnoxious as we all sound) it’s a pleasure to live here. We’ve all had the chance to experience some of the best the city has to offer, whether it be through nights out, art, music, or fashion.

But it wasn’t always this way. So how did Melbourne become Melbourne?

Experience the birth of a new cultural landscape and relive the pleasures of life in the 1980s, the decade of innovation and transformation in this city.

Forget the spandex and legwarmers, this period was all about the alternative. Taking influence from the US and the UK, Melbourne’s fashion aesthetic quickly evolved into a chaotic mix of reworked and individual style. The post-punk movement meant there was a push for diversity and innovation, and an embracement of striking design and experimentation.

Iconic queer designer, Clarence Chai, was a pioneer of avantgarde and post-modern looks not for the faint of heart. Chai was big presence in Melbourne’s fashion world, with boutique stores located across the CBD. Or Jenny Bannister, ‘fashion sculptress’, who embraced the art of recycled fabric before it was cool. For accessories, Kate Durham’s ‘devoutly decorative’ and extravagant jewellery was constructed out of scrap materials and rejected the idea of good design (Durham walked so Millie Savage could run).

To see these designs in action you’d head to the beloved three- storey Metro nightclub on Bourke St, for one of the Fashion Design Council’s various shows and parades. Think Melbourne Fashion Week on steroids. Supporting independent up-and-coming Australian designers meant committing to the experimental and individualistic, all done to separate from tradition and ‘the stranglehold of fashion houses’. At what was once the biggest nightclub in the Southern Hemisphere, you could find yourself enjoying fabulously excessive cocktails like a Blue Lagoon or a Fluffy Duck.

Another seminal piece of Melbourne’s nightlife, Razor was the epitome of the underground clubbing scene. Completely cutting edge, the dancefloor was a chance to escape the euro disco and radio trash of other nightclubs. In a 2015 interview with Vice, club photographer Jacqui Riva describes Razor as a ‘beautiful mixture of post-punk, shabby-chic, glamourous, queeny, gay… It was a place where you could do anything, and provided you were not aggressive and remained standing, it was tolerated.’

In the mood for a gig? Look no further than the Crystal Ballroom, located on the corner of Fitzroy St in St Kilda (when St Kilda was more low-rent and less gentrified). A home for the young and discontented, the Ballroom allowed new music and creativity to flourish. Hosting bands such as Mi-Sex, INXS, Simple Minds, XTC, Nick Cave, the Violent Femmes and The Cure, this was the place to escape the mundane.

In a decade of excess, Melburnian pioneers were at the front and centre of a new way of thinking, creating, and living. Forever changing the fabric of this city into the cultural hub we know and love today.