With special thanks to Professor of Sociology Hugh Campbell.
If you live in North Dunedin, chances are you were woken up in the very early hours of March 17th. Some joined enthusiastic flatmates banging down their doors, while many more are rudely awakened by the distant boom of Bluetooth speakers. Thousands of students gathered to sink down six drinks before six in the morning, despite their University classes.
We all know how infamous Saint Patrick’s Day is in Ōtepoti. We seem to go above and beyond. The rest of the country watches – Dunedin’s performance makes the news every year. But behind the chaos, there is a story of how Otago became Aotearoa’s biggest supporter of Saint Patrick. You may not expect it, but Dunedin’s most infamous day is rooted in centuries of history, marketing campaigns, alcohol licensing and a good dollop of cultural appropriation.
Introducing Saint Patrick
March 17th became Saint Patrick’s Day to celebrate, you guessed it, Saint Patrick. He was the Patron Saint of Ireland, becoming a Saint that acted as a spiritual advocate of Christianity. Paddy got this gig after being kidnapped and taken to Ireland as a slave at just sixteen, eventually returning to spread Christianity.
Saint Patrick spreading Christianity across Ireland involved the establishment of many institutions – schools, churches and monasteries, to name a few. The date Saint Patrick was believed to have passed, March 17th, became a day to celebrate his life and the religious service he gave to Ireland. The day was traditionally marked with feasts and religious services, commemorating the teachings and abundance that Saint Patrick dedicated his life to spreading.
The reason why a religious holiday is associated with a bright shade of green is due to the shamrock. The shamrock was a key symbol Patrick used to convey his teachings of religion. The three-leafed clover was a perfect way to illustrate the Holy Trinity, the three persons God eternally embodies: The Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Saint Patrick Becomes Secular
From Saint Patrick’s death to the late 20th Century, celebrating the day looked very similar for hundreds of years. It was primarily a religious day of service, a key date in the liturgical calendar of the Catholic Church. But as the Irish diaspora overseas began to grow, so did the way it was celebrated.
For a while, Saint Patrick's Day was actually a public holiday in Aotearoa. For seventy-seven years, Kiwis were lucky enough to have a Government-sanctioned Saint Patrick’s celebration up until 1955. At this stage, the holiday was still strictly religious, with any mention of all-day drinking marathons being very absent.
According to Professor of Sociology, Hugh Campbell, Saint Patrick's Day at that time was a holiday celebrated by the Irish community to appreciate their Irish culture. When he was an undergraduate in 1982, he remembers that the day was only recognised by a “tiny minority” of students. “It was not recognized as a major event for Scarfie life,” he explained. But those who did feel they had a strong connection to Irish culture would make it their special day, dressing up in green, making flower and leprechaun trails to the various places where they’d hang out. The largest Irish population in New Zealand was in Auckland, which might explain why only a few dozen students on the Dunedin campus celebrated Saint Patrick’s Day. “It was cute,” Hugh recalled, but a far cry from the Saint Patrick’s Dunedin hosts now. Overall, the day had the same level of cultural relevance that Halloween did in the eighties, which was only really observed by expats celebrating being American.
Speaking of the United States, Saint Patrick's was a great marketing opportunity for a country known for commercialising holidays more than any other. Post 1845 Potato Famine, Irish immigration to America exploded in popularity. With large amounts of Irish in the United States, far from home, the day commemorating the Patron Saint of Ireland became a chance to connect and celebrate Irish culture. Chicago started dying its river green every St Patrick’s in the 1960s, attracting global interest. This was concurrent with the rise of consumerism and marketing in a post WW-II America.
The shamrock slowly lost its predominant reference to the Holy Trinity, instead becoming a symbol to represent pride and appreciation for a culture that had historically been oppressed by the British – and a great shade of green. This is aligned with the American psyche, with the United States emerging proudly as an independent nation after being established by Britain. Parades began to become more visible than church services. Saint Patrick’s Day was a notable event, and a profitable cultural import.
Returning to how Paddy was coming along in New Zealand, things began to really take off in the 1990s. It was partially thanks to a beer brand you may have heard of. A struggling Irish beer company, Guinness, linked with the Irish Pub Company, working with Publicans to design pubs that had an Irish vibe to them. Irish pubs started popping up all over the world – such as The Bog and The Craic as our Dunedin locals, which helped continue to promote Irish culture. The creation of these spaces meant that when Saint Patrick’s Day rolled around, there were only a few dedicated spaces to celebrate it. If you weren’t a major city with a parade, heading to an Irish pub was likely your only option. Having Guiness on tap at any Irish pub is a staple, so it quickly became the drink that represented the Emerald Isle. These days, you’re far more likely to see someone's hands gripped around a pint of Guiness than a Bible come March 17th.
Irish pubs and Guinness were gladly taken up by high numbers of New Zealand’s population, where drinking has been a major part of post-colonisation culture. “[C]ultural historians in New Zealand have really noted that from reasonably early within the development of colonial Pākehā society in New Zealand, drinking was a major part of what we did,” Hugh explained. New Zealand had liberated the alcohol market in the 1990s, and decreased the drinking age to 18 in 1999. When Hugh returned to campus in the mid-1990s to teach as an academic, he observed a major increase in binge drinking, and an increased emphasis of the “student experience” at Otago University. The student quarter was primed and ready to get on the rark.
Scarfies Meet Saint Patrick
With the major shake-up of liquor laws and many more students having (legal) access to pubs, there was an increase in drunken chaos but also the birth of Scarfie culture. Liquor was becoming more accessible as laws around purchasing and serving were modified, and pubs came under increasing pressure to attract patrons. Up until the change, Hugh recalls that any kind of excess public or visible drinking that got even remotely out of control would be shut down by the police turning up with “paddy wagons and [bundling] up everyone who looked underage down to the station.” At this point, New Zealand’s economy has also become increasingly globalised. Fast fashion and $2 shops were popping up with cheap, imported goods, meaning there were ways to dress up in silly costumes that didn’t break the student budget.
With Irish pub culture spreading, and Scarfie culture rising, a perfect match was beginning to be made. When Saint Patrick’s day rolled around, pubs were ready to try to get punters through the doors. From the Celtic roots of Dunedin, to the Irish ancestry many Kiwis now have – there was an aspect of identity behind the drinking. It was only inevitable this would pique the interest of North D students. The historical context of the day meant that it was on people’s radars, so it spread through student culture with little unfamiliarity, hastened by the deregulation of television in New Zealand. Students were able to watch wild Saint Patrick's parties from all over the globe, such as the classic ones still happening in Boston today. It also helped that March 17th is only a few weeks into lectures, so many students did not see missing a day of University as problematic as it would become later in the semester.
By the early 2000s, Scarfies also gained access to the Internet, and were more exposed to much more global pop-culture. Hyde Street Party was gaining serious momentum at this point – costuming was becoming cool. Jumping forward to 2011, we see the finished construction of Forsyth Barr Stadium, just in time to host the Rugby World Cup. Ireland had been one of the teams playing, and brought their fans in tow. “They had absolutely a total party vibe,” Hugh explains. Hundreds of fans and students all piled into the stadium, dressed in Saint Patrick’s Day gear – “an absolute riot”. Ireland quickly became the “cool” rugby team to follow, and pubs continued to lean into the frenzy for all things Irish. The Green Wave had swept across Dunedin.
Dunedin, The Culture Vulture
It’s a well known and long-term theme within sociological studies of Aotearoa that, being a colonised island nation, Pākehā use a patchwork of other cultures to piece together their national identity. “I think Irish ancestry becomes something you can lean into a bit,” Hugh says. But on his walk to work on the morning of Saint Patrick’s Day, he couldn’t help but wonder how many students on the street celebrating were conscious of having some kind of Irish connection. “Irish ethnicity was never something that was particularly celebrated in New Zealand, due to its colonial roots. Certainly not compared to English or Scottish, even though [Irish heritage] is definitely there.”
Traditions that warp from the original religious identity of Saint Patricks, like Six Before Six, are bolstered by what Hugh described as the “transient” nature of the North Dunedin community. “People are usually coming from somewhere else to live here for a period of time. They're making new friends and new communities and new networks,” Hugh explains. And (especially) before the age of social media, being known for inventing a tradition was sure to be a major achievement – the crazier the better. “Can you imagine being in the flat that started the original Hyde Street Party?”, he says. Nowadays, you’d probably be thought to be a bit of a legend to come up with Goon Before Noon, or Line Before Nine. History repeats itself, and these now iconic challenges seem to be part of Otago student’s cultural identity. Just like the broader theme of patchworked Pākehā cultural identity in Aotearoa, we can see the same borrowing from Irish culture in Dunedin from students, arguably accelerated and more dramatic.
One student who roamed the streets last year to honour Saint Patrick is Qwenton, a bagpiper. He’s not Irish – Scottish, actually. If you lived on Castle Street last year, you would have heard the warble of his many pipes as he made the rounds through Studentville. He woke up at 3:30 in the morning to get ready for the big day. “And then I put my kilt on, my shirt, my tie, jacket, socks, shoes, sporren,” he recounted. A sporren is Scottish Gaelic for purse, where he puts his phone as kilts don’t have pockets. When asked if he just has kilts laying around, Qwenton tells us he has three kilts. “They are lying around though.”
One of them is his Mackenzie kilt, for his last name, and another is his band kilt. The third is for if the other two are dirty – just a swap. “You know when your clothes are in the wash? So you have to wear some other clothes? Like that.” He comes from a community of bagpipers – apparently there’s more around than you’d think. “Like two or three,” he says.
He acknowledges that he feels a bit bad being Scottish and playing the bagpipes on an Irish day, which is quite refreshing. He says he has “imposter syndrome”. “I don’t even think I should be playing on an Irish day. But no one seems to actually know, so.”
He says there’s some people who leave hate comments on the videos people take of him piping, but there’s always haters. “I just play them anyways” – bigpipes and haters. Even though he humbly says “he’s a little bit better than the average person” at playing, he’ll be competing in the Nationals in New Plymouth the day after Saint Patricks. ”That makes it sound so dust, because why would it be there? It goes around the country, this year it’s there, but that makes it sound so dumb.”
If any other prospective bagpipers are out there, Qwenton could really use the help. Well, maybe. When asked if he lets other people touch his bagpipes, he says yes, but not on Saint Patrick’s, because they’ve got to be in top shape for the day.
Saint Patrick Becomes Saint Paddy
The student culture of Dunedin for decades revolved around pubs and student bars, supervised spaces with cheap pints. A big scarfie tradition was Kegs and Eggs – punters would gather in the morning to line their stomachs before hitting the pub for a long day of Saint Patrick’s Day drinking. While chaos was always inevitable, it allowed it to spiral out of control as Dunedin slowly lost its spaces for students to drink.
Flat parties becoming the default allowed Saint Patrick’s Day to spiral to new heights. With flats becoming the destination for celebrations, there was no reason to line your stomach if there was no risk of being cut off or causing a ruckus in public. Kegs and Eggs became an all-day affair, and it was gamified.
Hugh reckoned that he’d witnessed “a lot more drinking happening behind closed doors” over the years he’d been around Otago. Managing the chaos of Saint Patricks has just become harder for everyone, including for police given the increase in drinking age. “It became much harder for police to manage public disorder and just go in, and arrest every young looking person [...] It's just a different world [now].”
Six Before Six, Line Before Nine, or Goon Before Noon are now much more familiar terms than Kegs and Eggs. The catchy titles and daunting tasks gained notoriety, and consequences for getting too drunk were traded from being kicked out of the pub to being stationed by a toilet bowl. Ditching class to complete the challenges added an extra thrill for some, with the all-day endurance of Saint Patrick’s becoming a key part of its notoriety in Dunedin.
These are the types of Saint Patrick’s celebrations that are familiar to current students now. Take Richie*, for example: a second year Polytech student who’s been preparing for Saint Patrick’s day for weeks. Richie’s got his whole outfit planned out. “An I Love Beer shirt. One of those shitty ones from Look Sharp. Green glasses and a green necklace.” In fact, his whole flat has got their outfits planned. Some of the boys have dinosaur costumes. The plan is to just “go green.” He’ll probably wake up at quarter to five in the morning, and “have a few in the shower”. “All the boys will be showering and blasting music.”
From around five in the morning, their flat is hosting. He says that most students will probably do Six Before Six with their flatmates, but after that he’s expecting heaps of people to rock up. “We’ll definitely play some Irish tunes,” he assured. They’re only hosting until nine, though. The boys have got a deal with another flat close by, and they’re going to take over for the second morning host.
In lieu of a sold out Irish flag, Richie’s flat purchased an Indian one and are planning to get crafty. “We actually haven’t painted the middle bit white yet, so it’s just hanging outside our window, still Indian.” Staying on theme, Richie purchased green cruisers for his Six Before Six, which are “easier to get down in the morning.” He’s swapped out wine for a bottle of Nitro, and got his favourite vodka cran goon.
As Dunedin shaped its own take on Saint Patrick’s Day, other students began to take notice. With flat party culture growing, Dunedin became a destination for the day. It was a uniquely Otago experience – hyped up by mates who got to experience it first hand from other Universities, such as Canterbury or Lincoln. This level of hype created expectations of a day where students can get trollied with little consequence, and soon flights down South became crammed full of other young people wanting to experience the peak ‘Otago Experience’ on a day where the chaos of University life is exaggerated to the maximum. In some ways, Hugh says Dunedin became the Las Vegas of New Zealand.
The increase of chaotic student behaviour has driven media coverage of Saint Patrick’s Day in Dunedin to be overwhelmingly negative. Often behind these stories, the culprits are visitors and not University of Otago students (like the 2025 incident of a dead wallaby being barbecued on Castle Street). This is something Richie is experiencing first-hand for this Saint Patrick’s Day. He’s got nine boys living in his flat, and they’ve got another seven staying from Christchurch.
With parties mostly being confined to flats these days, drug usage has also seen a sharp rise over the years. With no need to sneak them into a venue, and its reputation as a mammoth day of partying – drugs instead of alcohol, are the centre of celebrations for many students. Drugs are a normalised part of Saint Patrick’s for Richie, he reckons he’ll power straight through the day and into the night, with tactical lines of gear or ket (“probably both”) throughout the day.
Students coming down to experience a crazy day that goes against the social norms of the rest of the country was a recipe for chaos. While Otago students had flats to make sure weren’t damaged, and a Code of Conduct they signed on enrolment – visitors did not have the same restraints. When young people don’t understand the nuances of North D culture, they could trash the place and leave a day later with little-to-no consequences.
Richie’s a bit more responsible than that. He’s saved up his Maccas points for food throughout the day, and he’s all for staying off roofs and keeping his partying to the ground. “I always try to stay off roofs. I’m quite accident prone, so Mum will have a rage.” If any of his mates got too fucked up on the day, he reckons he’d tap out of festivities to look after them, or pass them on to someone else staying in the flat – there’s safety in numbers. Richie also managed to move all his classes to the Wednesday after Saint Patrick’s, so he can party carefree. “I’m gonna get it on. Enjoy myself.”
What’s Next For Saint Patrick
All the media coverage and chaos has distanced itself so far from Saint Patrick, the spiritual patron of Ireland, you can’t help but wonder how we got here. While the current form of Saint Patrick’s day seems here to stay for now, conversations around the roots of the celebration have begun to gain more traction. A general awareness of cultural sensitivities has led some to question the departure from Saint Patrick’s roots. Some view the excessive drinking, the ranga roundups and ‘Kiss Me, I’m Irish’ costumes to be insensitive to a culture that has endured much across its storied history. While these conversations are unlikely to be a topic of conversation for a North D resident on Saint Patrick’s, it remains to be seen how the cultural significance of the day may morph as these discussions become more mainstream.
In his sociology work, Hugh notices an increasing cultural awareness around Saint Patrick’s Day. “Ireland was a colonised country. It was an incredibly vivid, historically rich and textured country that was colonised by the English and essentially suppressed.” Talking to the binge drinking and unhinged traditions that have arisen from Dunedin’s interpretation of the cultural day, Hugh wonders if people who were truly using Saint Patrick’s Day as a celebration would do those things.
It may not happen quickly, but Saint Patrick’s Day has slowly been evolving for hundreds of years to gain its identity today. Hugh thinks it’ll “be a while” before changes like that are seen in North D. Historically, Saint Patrick’s Day would involve Church and meals with family and friends. Then it became a parade, maybe a few cheeky post-work beers too. It’s still like the latter in most of the world, but it couldn’t be further from the reality of the student quarter in Dunedin.
As Richie and his mates stumble to the host, head-to-toe in green, Dunedin is showcasing its ability to be a city that does Saint Patrick’s like no other. Qwenton’s pipes warble mournfully at the mouth of a Scotsman. But this unique melting pot of culture is no coincidence. It was years of history, laws and pop-culture trends, all rearing themselves in the right place, at the right time.
* Name changed
