Sit down, we need to talk. Don’t worry, we’re not breaking up, but we do need to discuss what we’re becoming because it’s getting weird. It wasn’t supposed to go this far. We’ve been dressing it up for years but somewhere along the line, despite our best intentions, we started believing in the lie ourselves.

What am I on about? The hyper-fetishization of our industry.

Don’t believe me? Even I, splendacious as I am, am sometimes seduced by the dramatic slow-motion reels of a squeegee riding the contours of a supercar, but it’s drenched in glamour. And that glamour isn’t real.

Is it glamorous to strip a chalky, sun-damaged wrap? Do you feel sexy when slamming the phone down on yet another low-balling customer? How’s that “hustle king” energy treating you when your main installer jumps ship to start a competitive business?

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it. Not unlike standing awkwardly, yet somehow iconically, in the aisles of Mecca while my girlfriend scurries for lipsticks. To me, it’s an artificial industry that leverages sex appeal to sell cosmetics. But to her? It’s a comfortable space that enables her passion and creativity. So, who am I to judge?

Come to think of it, who are the real judges of this unregulated industry? It is an important question that’s too often brushed aside with the feel-good notion that “we all play a part.”  We don’t. I want to say it is the trainers, but fashionable as they are, they don’t stand a chance against those ratty teenagers on TikTok learning to wrap in real-time and amassing millions of views.

Don’t be mad at amateurs – that’s simply how the sausage gets made. influencers hold more power over the industry’s narrative than a LinkedIn humblebragger ever will. And whether we like it or not, that’s exactly what’s happening.

But is that wrong? Please, just put the knife down. The industry is so fractured that controlling the narrative is nearly impossible. It caters to wildly different audiences, not just in class, but geographically as well. Graham Doolan makes this point when describing the differences between the Australian and American markets.

Speaking of trainers, let’s back up a bit. I want you to think about the most iconic trainers in our industry. Now soak in that for a moment … hands where I can see them. Now tell me this, why is it that every installer these days thinks they have a divine right to open a wrap school?

If you’re feeling offended at this point, please understand that it’s entirely your fault.

Everybody knows that Justin Pate is the undisputed rockstar of the industry.  His online academy has set the foundations for wrappers for generations to come. You need not know his personal story to appreciate the immense struggles and sacrifices required to achieve these feats. But, as with any rockstar, fame invites imitators, and in his wake, the swarm inevitably followed.

That isn’t to say that every trainer is an imitator, though you’d be forgiven for thinking so.  Have you listened to the WrapIQ podcast? If not, you’re missing out. In an industry that is infatuated with glamour, John Deuver’s emphasis on business and scalability is a grounding force. He reminds us that we’re human, yet nonetheless deserving of success if we’re willing to work for it.

And naturally, this is much harder to fake.

Does authority only come with passing on your knowledge? Not necessarily. Take the ever-stylish Vinyl Vixen, who inspires her audience by bringing colour and depth to an otherwise monotonous craft with a flair that’s entirely her own.  You won’t catch Justin or John in a unitard.

The reality is that behind every legend, there’s a struggle. It’s gritty, sweaty, and often frustrating. Even as I speak, Ruggs is curating these very words for an industry magazine, so you, my half-interested reader, can feel just a little more connected to this wonderfully dysfunctional and perpetually confused wrap family of ours.

But let’s not pretend that we don’t all indulge in a little delusion. You don’t need to be a car to want to stand in the garage. You can have your dissonance and eat it too. Are there consequences for it? Of course. Who wants to tell newcomers that kneeling in shit and glue residue is an average Tuesday? I don’t. But without the fantasy, there wouldn’t be an industry. And if I were flexible enough, I’d #bendandwrap too.

Even knowing what I know, you couldn’t dissuade me from competing in a wrap tournament, or buying into the latest lifestyle brand with “locally made” products, or chasing the limelight as we all inevitably do. Because without the dream, who’s signing up for the grind in the first place?

So, what point am I trying to make here with both hands and an expiring cigarette? Well, like a soft voice in your ear counting backwards from ten, I want to help you. I want to reassure you that it’s ok to get weird, so long as we’re honest about it and we clean up afterwards.

And since this may very well be my final blog, for fear of running out of taboos to offend, I figure I’ll toss one last chaos grenade before I summersault to safety.

Glamorously, of course.