Homo litigius: Looking for lawyers in their native habitat
With over 5899 of New Zealand’s 14,333 lawyers gallivanting around the city of booming-mad motorists — I mean sails — it’s no easy feat to find them in their natural habitat. But thanks to my love of goodie bags, free wine, and legitimate sources such as Facebook messenger and hearsay, one concluded the following:
To start, what better way to spot a lawyer than at 7am, sporting Lululemon or ilabb(?!). Unlike traditional active-wear posers — who wear the garb but don’t engage in what is commonly referred to as “exercise” — A-type personalities take “practising well” and wellbeing seriously. You might spot said exercise fiends at Les Mills Britomart or Auckland City. If they’re keen to avoid resembling a leaking faucet all day, they might do a CXWorx class (glorified Pilates) followed by pump (weights for babies).
But lawyers’ exercise habits are diverse, where younger pups are said to love F45, which is more or less a repurposed version of crossfit. Millennials love F45 as it’s Instafamous, in other words, it provides an opportunity for lawyers to gain a following on Instagram if they’re wanting to ditch billing in favour of eventually starting a raw-food eatery.
Boomers and Gen Z prefer “nature”-driven sports, so you might see them completing an ultramarathon or cycling with their mates — three-abreast — along Tamaki Drive. Mamils (middle-aged men wearing lycra) may cycle to work but drive their overpriced car if the weather isn’t just right.
Once lawyers have completed their hour of exercise for the day, you won’t find them smashing a pie and coke, instead you’ll see them with a Tank juice in hand, or indulging in a breakfast of almond milk soaked oats with goji berries, cacao nibs, turmeric powder, chia seeds and macadamia butter. Then there’s the controversial issue of coffee. For those who “work hard, play hard” it’s seen as a must, but the higher PQE, status and wealth you get, the more it’s likened to crack.
Suppose it’s lunchtime: whether it’s any variety of sushi outlet that is saturating the market, or last night’s leftovers (legal graduates will have realised that the 70-hour work week means they’re on less-than-minimum wage), lawyers can be found frolicking around the lawyer precinct, otherwise known as Shortland St.
It makes sense seeing as Duncan Cotterill, MinterEllisonRuddWatts,
Hasketh Henry, Simpson Grierson, DLA Piper New Zealand, Lowndes Corporate and Commercial Law Specialists, the Auckland branch of NZ Law Society, Meredith Connell, Brookfields Lawyers, Russell McVeagh, Dentons Kensington Swan, Gilbert Walker, Rainey Collins Wright, Buddle Findlay, Lane Neave, Jackson Russell Lawyers, Anderson Lloyd, and eight further pages of Google Maps suggestions dominate the Bermuda triangle of the corporate world.
Their clothes — prepare to be blinded by a mixture of ties only David Seymour could be proud of, and Working Style suits juxtaposed against their polyester-blend counterparts that were made while holidaying in Southeast Asia. For the established “ladies”, it’s Zambesi, World, Kate Sylvester, Chanel or Gucci, while the younger lot might spend their clothing allowance on Country Road essentials, Cue-on-sale or Karen Walker via Designer Wardrobe.
Power “ladies” might also be spotted at the Auckland Writers Festival, Auckland Arts Festival, Auckland Comedy Festival, Auckland Fringe Festival and so forth. Why? — in order to placate the sense of loss that has come as a result of keeping mama and papa happy by securing those dollar bills over pursuing a career in fine arts. The real tragedy of course is that there is no money in law anymore, well at least for criminal lawyers thanks to Dame Margaret Bazley’s plight to crack down on car-boot lawyers many moons ago.
Which brings me to drinky poos, which has sadly born the brunt of wider problems associated with power imbalance and exploitation. While hard liquor mightn’t be freely available in firms, that’s not to say sales have declined across the board.
Criminal lawyers can be spotted at Spitting Feathers, where the spirits are high and the grog is cheap. They might wax lyrical over the good ol’ days when they didn’t have to drink $3 Heinekens, and frequenting the Northern Club was more than just myth. For those poor individuals working out of the Manukau District Court, there’s Republic Bar and Kitchen, which offers bourbon-glazed pork ribs for $20 on a Wednesday. Fancy that.
Auckland Council’s in-house lawyers love Depot and anything that fuels their champagne socialism, whereas community or union lawyers — the hipsters of the legal world — might be spotted at Coco’s Cantina, Family Bar, or St Kevin’s Arcade.
Corporate and civil litigators go to Corner Bar to see and be seen, Waiheke Island on the weekends, and Hotel deBret for a more intimate setting. The insurance lot love the Jefferson — God knows why — and Good Feeds on Fort St. It’s open every night and you can expect to dance to Chumbawamba, Nelly, Dave Dobbyn, and The Exponents.
As for clerks, graduates, and law students, they’ll be wherever there’s a company credit card. Enough said.