Pubs & Bars: Flinders Bar (62 Flinders St. Darlinghurst).

I love it when things are restored. Like, how cool is it when someone fixes up a sweetarse car from the 50s and it becomes totally sweetarse once again? Or someone repairs a watch from the early 1900s? Or the dead are brought back in the form of killer but totally awesome zombies? I love that shit.

In keeping with my love of restoration, I love Flinders Bar. It used to be old and retarded, and now it’s new and awesome. Such a change is the result of a good few months of solid renovation, and it really has worked wonders. The Flinders of now is full of deep purples and awesome wallpaper and comfy lounges. There’s even a nice restaurant upstairs.

Where once it was - apparently - a haven for sleaze, Flinders is now a much-needed haven from the hustle and bustle of Oxford St. It’s a two-minute walk from the oft-debauched strip, and yet it seems like a world away. It’s totally devoid of the drunken fucktards that populate other Darlinghurst venues, and the bar staff are totally friendly, which is a nice change from the tip-hungry bastards behind the bars of other joints.

Basically, checkin’ out the Flinders is totally necessary – it’s new and pretty! Darlinghurst finally has an appropriate venue to chill back in. (Flinders isn’t all about the chilling though – there are DJs getting things a little rowdy on Friday and Saturday nights). I’d be surprised if I go a week without rocking this place. Of course, there are a few downsides to Flinders… actually fuck, no, there aren’t actually. The place is just deadset fuckin’ cool. This place is part of the new breed of bars – places that are into comfort and chillin’ and an awesome lack of pretentious dickheads. Gotta’ love that.

(Originally published in The Brag as part of the Under The Bar column).