Bougie or budget: What’s become of Sydney’s missing middle?

My kids’ favourite insult right now is “mid”. It means a person or a thing is mediocre or painfully average. It’s worse to be mid than to be a loser or to be terrible at something.

When I was young and trying to be painfully hip, I remember hating everything middle. Middle-of-the-road music, middle-aged people, the middle class in general.

But now I’m missing the middle like mad. On many levels.

Where’s the happy medium between Louis Vuitton and Kmart? Credit: Michael Howard

My old suburb in northern Sydney was middle suburbia. I thought it was stifling and boring. But my local shops had an affordable fruit and veg shop and tween clothing stores.

Now, that same suburb has a low-cost supermarket, a high-cost gourmet food store, expensive clothes shops and thrift shops. It has middle-class fun thanks to local events and middle-of-the-road cafes, but it can’t sustain shops that aren’t either bougie or basic.

I feel a lot of our suburban shopping centres either cater for cheap or overly priced and nothing in between. Of course, I use the term “cheap”, mindful of the fact that not a lot is cheap right now, and the treasurer has warned that fruit and veg prices may rise after the cyclone.

On a rare visit to a big shopping centre mall this week, things didn’t seem that different. Kmart and a gourmet grocery shop sat side by side. I saw Spiderman PJs costing the same as a trio of arancini and a single steak that cost more than the cheap jeans.

Never knowingly undersold: Jane Turner as Prue and Gina Riley as Trude.

I miss places like the old Paddington, where clothes and markets were affordable. Even Newtown feels less diverse, and the thrift shops are increasingly full of fast fashion resold for even more than it cost in the first place. Internet shopping has gouged out many affordable clothes shops – it’s now often a choice between the stores I call “Prue and Trude” shops or Temu. (Prue and Trude were Kath and Kim’s grey-bobbed alter egos who served customers in a homewares shop – their vowels so elongated they would never have accidentally requested a statue of baby cheeses instead of baby Jesus). There’s still good old DJs to shop at, but the last time I was in there, it took me more time to find someone to serve me than it did to weigh up what I wanted to buy.

The distinction between the high-end and struggle street is acute because they often sit so close. Near Martin Place people queue to enter luxury shops that sell handbags, watches and jewellery for tens of thousands of dollars. Around the corner, people begin to queue for a street kitchen an hour before it opens.

Rich people in Bondi are ripping down unit blocks to replace them with mega-mansions while homeless services are supporting people who never thought they would need help. On one night last week, the organisation Dignity sheltered 132 women, 87 men and 88 children. The youngest was a three-day-old baby, the oldest a man over 90. Some of those needing help are working several jobs but still not able to make ends meet.

In restaurants with Sydney Harbour views, degustation meals with wine cost up to $400, yet it’s disgusting that 44 kilometres west in Glendenning, Sydney’s Foodbank Centre is seeing an increase in demand from families who are employed yet hungry. Chief executive John Robertson says it’s also getting trickier to meet those needs. Donated food is declining as manufacturers get more efficient and reduce wastage.

Some high-end Sydney private schools boast wellness centres with ice baths, while public schools have to hand-fan children who faint due to a lack of air-conditioning.

Laser treatment, fillers and Botox are almost normalised in some Sydney social circles, while other families put off going to the dentist to get a tooth filled.

While we may laugh watching the drraaaaaama of the Real Housewives of Sydney as they get their glow-up, the gap between most of us and them is not funny. Their enormous handbags could house a family with rent relief for months.

The cast of The Real Housewives of Sydney – the cost of some of their handbags could pay a family’s rent.Credit: James Gourley

John Robertson says things are even harder outside of Sydney. The increase in crime in the regions can’t be conveniently explained away by soft judges, poor policing, bad parenting and social ills. Inequality stokes resentment.

I feel these extremes are a signal of where we’re going in so many areas, including our public debate. We are losing our much-maligned middle-of-the-road opinions at a time when we need to meet in the middle of our differences.

The hollowing-out of middle America is harrowing and a factor in the election of Donald Trump, whose economic policies seem likely to exacerbate inequality around the world. We should be proud we have a fatter middle than the USA and should work to keep it so.

The middle class rose out of the industrial revolution and peaked with the peak fashion, flicks and fabulous music of the 1970s. Since then, the pressure upon the group in which most of us identify has only increased. Many feel we are losing ground. It’s not “mid” to be middle class, it’s something we need to fight to maintain and to make easier to join – for those with less and, perhaps, for those with more who can afford to share.

Sarah Macdonald is an author, journalist and broadcaster.

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