By Dominic Cadden 

In 2008, the year the United Nations declared ‘The Year of the Potato’, launching a magazine called Whingeing Pom didn’t seem such a silly idea.

At the time the magazine was established, it was clear the Old World was going to hell in a handbasket. By February the British government had nationalised the failing Northern Rock Bank due to the U.S. subprime mortgage financial crisis and more Poms than ever were flooding into Western Australia, Australia’s boomtime state, where employers were just about shooting wads at passers-by from their office windows. Perth’s ex-pat Brits were a ready market for Whingeing Pom.

The name of the magazine alone immediately caught the media’s attention, but not everyone took the magazine in good humour. One Mr Thomason, who is the founder of the group British People Against Racial Discrimination (and member of the much larger group, Idiots from Birmingham) immediately attacked the magazine with allegations of racism, before he switched his charges to “contravention of his human rights” for not being treated equally or with the same respect as other ‘racial groups’. Of course, this did not hold water, since poms are not a racial group, and Western Australia passed legislation in 2004 that allows racially charged terms such as ‘pom’, ‘wog’ and ‘ding’ to be used without fear of prosecution. Nevertheless, due to the actions of Mr Thomason, who has lived in Australia since 1970, the magazine now carries a disclaimer as to the use of the word ‘pom’, and the solicitor for parent company Editor at Large has managed to pay off his house in Cottesloe. This was counter-balanced by the acres of free PR the mini drama prompted in the local and national press and the continuing broadcast time our dauntingly (and hauntingly) attractive publishing staff receive on the small screen.

Whingeing Pom was never meant to offend. Indeed, the title is a call to arms to countrymen and a challenge to the land in which they’ve settled. Let’s be clear – despite Aussies levelling the term ‘Whingeing’ Pom at ex-pat Brits in a derogatory fashion, the joke’s on them, because whingeing works. Those horrible gammon steaks topped with tinned pineapple at the local inns up and down British high streets went the way of the dodo and were replaced with gastro-pubs, thanks to prolonged whingeing. And why do you think the Vikings never stayed in Britain? “Olaf, a bath wouldn’t kill you! And the lice in your cape are as big as crabs. Must you use your club when you ravage me? You could learn a thing or two from them French, they’ve invented this thing called four-pray, or summat…”

Whingeing serves its purpose. No-one packs up and moves 10,000km so they can be in a warmer version of Crapstone, Devon. Our little magazine is both a forum and guidebook to British ex-pats, but it’s also a place to air our fears and warnings against Australia going down the same slippery slope to the dungheap that the UK has. Rampant xenophobia, a nanny state, lazy workers, ridiculous house and rent costs, fierce anti-Islamic sentiment… if you’re not sure which nation I’m talking about, then that’s exactly the point.

“Nothing is going to stop us casting our pessimistic shadow over this vast brown land of optimism and opportunity,” wrote one contributor, and it’s that spirit that we hope to uphold to keep Australia on its toes. To that end we’ve taken a whimsical look at everything from romance Downunder to the woeful state of amateur soccer here and done comprehensive price comparisons between Australia and the UK in the interests of safeguarding your pennies. (Who else will verify conclusively that the UK is 11 per cent more expensive than Australia based on the cost of that all-encompassing consumer price index, the eco-friendly Mooncup menstrual cup?). Of course, we’ve also delved into the heavy issues, including the ins and outs of renting or building your own home, understanding the education system here, establishing your rights to your pension, and understanding the religious landscape in Australia. Regarding the latter, you know you’ve really made a social impact when radical right-wing nationalists target one of your (pasty-white, Christian, Aussie) writers for being too kind to Muslims.

Soon even the staid suits of the publishing industry saw through the funny title, the re-hashed Two Ronnies jokes and visual gags enough to see that our modest magazine was a quality production with noble principles. Consequently, towards the end of our first year, Whingeing Pom won the Publishers Australia annual award for best magazine launch of the year, which our publisher accepted to thunderous silence, save for the patter of his much bigger rivals’ ballsed-up acceptance speeches bouncing off his back. Oh yes, we had come out of left field, swiped the big award from underneath the big boys’ noses and were graceful yet smug in our victory. It was like Viz scooping the prize from Homes and Garden and we savoured the moment.

Success and respect followed. In early 2009 an East Coast version of the magazine was launched and by mid-year Whingeing Pom had sealed a high-profile partnership with Tourism WA for a campaign to reunite the family and friends of the many expat Brits living in Western Australia. And you thought we were just having a lark? We’ve noble principles, us.

Breaking the two-year barrier in the Australian publishing industry is a huge feat in itself, as a terrible number of magazines succumb to SIDS. Today, the magazine operates like any normal, healthy-functioning two-year-old child: it’s both delightful but temperamental, often seems to be full of shit, and has been known to throw itself face-down on the floor or hide when at the  newsagents. The stresses of the ‘terrible twos’ often show among the staff, too, who still occasionally strip naked and pee on the carpet while running around with Tupperware on their heads. But usually only the day before deadline.

As for me, I’m ‘Australian’ as far back as 1810 and I don’t much care for the UK. Sure, I’ve travelled from Wales to Scotland but I have about as much sentimentality for the place as I do for last Thursday’s bowel movement. Still, I accept that this is a nation that’s made up of people from proud nations all around the world, and then poms as well. The more the new chums understand about the way things work here, the better we’ll all get along. More than that, though, sometimes it takes an outsider’s perspective to make us all step back and take a good hard look at ourselves bollocks-naked in the house of mirrors to see ourselves and our country the way they really are, so we don’t balls it up any further. After all, if poms stop wanting to come here, who will we take the piss out of then? So, keep on whingeing.