Melbourne trends bound by city limits Macca cartoon. YOU know you are from Melbourne when you get up to far north Queensland and realise that you've noticed something missing -- and it's all the Ned Kelly beards. You know, those bushy lumberjack arrangements dangling from the waiters, wafting past on bikes or lolling behind the trendy clothing counters that we see so often we just take for granted, like the trees? Yes, you know you're from the world's most liveable city when you realise those beards and their must-have accessory, the neat short back-and-sides (or slightly ironic, carefully-styled quiff) are strangely absent on baristas in remote Australia. Come to think of it, you know you are from Melbourne when you realise actual baristas are also thin on the ground. Yes, you know you are from Melbourne when you notice that where you are, there is an almost complete lack of stovepipe hipster chino pants (in camel) on 20-something skater dudes in $150 shoes. And you know you are from Melbourne when it hits you that even on the ladies, there isn't any black. In winter! And you know your postcode definitely starts with three when you register there's something different about the cars in whatever outpost you're in - and then it dawns on you that so far as the eye can see there's not a single European "four-wheel drive" or other designer SUV. And you know you are a swinging southerner when it strikes you that the outbreak of oh-so-glamorous urban yoghurt bars with names like Yo-Chi or Igloo Zoo or Ayomo is yet to reach that latitude. There's only yoghurt in a tub. Also, there isn't any kale. And you know you're from the urban cutting edge when you notice a lack of "fixie" bikes, or men in click-clack riding shoes crowding up the cafes - with waxed legs. Also you can't see any pet dogs of breeds that ends in 'oodle'. And you're 100 per cent Victorian if you find yourself mildly surprised that the only exotic food available is Chinese, Thai or Pizza -- and there isn't any Pho. And designer seafood tacos in hand-rolled organic casings are now but a dream. And you're certainly from Melbourne if you've taken the time to register the utter lack of $800 prams. Yes, not a Bugaboo or a hyper-designer Stokke Xplorer stroller to speak of. Or, in fact, anything at all that's made in Scandinavia. Those low-maintenance local babies seem to be satisfied with their simple folding pushers and locally built cars - which going on the Melbourne all-terrain infant transport trends, quite seriously, who'd have thunk? You know you are from Melbourne, too, when you go to the local surf club for family dinner (wearing lipstick) and look down your nose at all those other ladies who have seriously over-dressed - who are obviously from Sydney. And you know you are from Melbourne (or maybe Sydney) when you catch yourself getting picky about the coffee, possibly due to the lack of another precious Melbourne fashion, complex "latte art." And you clock the lack of posh Lululemon or other trendy yoga pants that cost, oh, about as much as a couple of months membership at the average gym. In fact, there aren't that many gyms. Oddly, the locals seem to get their exercise doing their own version of free-weight training, going about their normal, outdoorsy day jobs. Rugged jobs like cutting down the cane - a profession which, as any mildly ironic Melbourne dresser could tell you, would go perfectly with beards. But maybe those non-ironic northern chins just can't take the heat.