Facebook Flat Groups: a guide to the Wellingtonian Art of Online Flat Hunting
Ronia Ibrahim (she/her)
Facebook Flat groups are an essential in the Wellington flatting scene. They come in many names of the same variation: FAM (Flatmates and More) Wellington is most popular at 53k members, followed by Flats and Rooms for Rent in Wellington NZ; Flatmates Wanted - Wellington; Flats and Flatmates Wellington; Flatmates wanted in Wellington; Wellington - Rooms/Flats/Apartments/Flatmates. General Wellington community pages such as Vic Deals (or its less racist successor, Dic Veals) are also frequently used, as well as Facebook Marketplace, where you can find a rental with a side of neglected air fryer. These sprawling underground markets are a hotspot for flat hunters in Wellington. There you will find hives of Wellingtonians, necessitated by a terrifying rental crisis, in search for a place to live.
Flat listings are most common in these groups: pictures of rooms/houses accompanied by information regarding rent, expenses and the move-in date. Flatmate listings are also a thing - where individuals pitch themselves to the group in hopes of becoming someone’s flatmate or tenant. Often these come in the form of a selfie paired with a small bio outlining age, interests and budget. It feels a lot like a dating profile—if Tinder was an app that valued domestic aptness—where attractive traits like “clean, responsible, non-smoker” replace height, star sign and favourite mediocre TV show.
It’s not just about wanting to make sure your landlord or potential flatmates like you; a self-pitch can be very useful for attracting places that fit your preferences. In my first venture into Facebook flat hunting, I only wanted to consider an all-girls flat so I could roam around the house without having to worry about wearing my hijab (avoiding dirty bathrooms would be a convenient plus). Flatting culture is as much about who you live with as where you live. Profiles can be a useful way for people to find like-minded people, or places that will accept you for who you are. A wholesome selfie paired with a few jokes here and there can make you stand out from the sea of home-hunters, or at least result in some validating love reacts.
Appeal is incredibly important for a Facebook flat listing. Photos, wording and honesty are key. You don’t want to be called out for how gross your place looks, but you want to make sure you’re not overhyping it either. The balance can be tricky, the irony intense, but include one mouldy attic pic and you could end up at the wrong end of publicity. In November 2020, one student’s listing made national news: the “cosy” $130 per-week room in a 7 bedroom house she had posted—a converted sunroom with a double bed flushed up against a wall—attracted public ridicule and criticism. The unlucky advertiser told TVNZ she “knew it wasn’t the fanciest room”, but, as the onslaught of Harry Potter’s-cupboard-under-the-stairs comments suggested, “people thought it was really bad”.
“It’s really, really bad”, my dad says, starting another one of his dinner table housing crisis rants. We are sitting in the kitchen of our 6-week-old flat, signed to us just before Christmas, feeling equal parts relief and guilt at finding a decent apartment amidst the mess of the market. My dad is a case manager for emergency housing, so my sister and I get all the tea on just how ugly this crisis really is. He found our place on TradeMe last December, which according to the website, was when median property rent in Wellington was at $620. “And it keeps getting worse”, Dad says. Our houses are overpriced, at capacity, and underwhelming, meaning that finding a place in Wellington is often much like finding a place that’s only miserably decent.
“It's like [looking for] a part-time job, constantly trawling through all the platforms to find something” Becky G says, a third year Law/Arts student whose first flat hunting experiences were, like so many others, a nightmare. As a first year from Tauranga, fresh out of halls, she was hit with a wave of stress entering the rental market. “I really had no idea what I was looking for”, she recounts. “I had exams coming up, so was frantically studying while having at least one breakdown every day, crying and stressing over not having a home”. She was desperate, applying for “absolutely everything”.
“A flat came up on Vic Deals and I messaged the guy straight away; [we] said we would come visit it in the next 10 minutes”. But when she arrived, it was in dismal condition. “That was quite a shock”, she admitted, “One of my flatmates actually said she cried when she walked into the house for the first time!” The house was damaged, freezing and mouldy, however, she accepted it, because at that point, she “was in a state of panic, so honestly would have taken absolutely anything”.
While Becky was brave enough to move into her Facebook Flat, I can’t testify to what actually happens beyond this point. While I had also trawled through listings, messaging members and making sacrifices, I never actually managed to move into a flat. It hit me when I showed up to the door of an apartment I had organised to view—where in front, a man with hula hoops was dancing to EDM—that I realised I had reached the edge of flat-hunting Facebook. Now I was in the real world, which involved real money, people, and decisions. Reality meant no algorithm, no anonymity, no ghosting. It meant facing up to strangers, responsibilities, unpredictability. I turned towards the street that day, and now I live with my Dad.
After having to split up with flatmates, and dealing with an “intensely passive aggressive” landlord, Becky has since fortunately found a new flat again through Vic Deals, but not without sacrificing health, emotional wellbeing, and money. “I have literally only been flatting for a year and I already feel like I could talk about this forever—flatting in Wellington is a high pressured, high stake competition”.
But she says despite the emotional turmoil, the social media platform allowed for easier communication and connection to people. “The informal setting means you can ask a ton of questions to the people, and you don't have to try to seem polite and formal in the same way when addressing a landlord”. Facebook groups even offered some sense of support for her. “It was reassuring to know everyone is/was in the same boat”, she says, “all the people I talked to were really nice, wishing me luck if their flat had already been filled, and chatting about how absolutely dire the situation was in Welly”.
The truth is, the world of Facebook flats can be terrifying. Sometimes I feel disappointed in my inability to pull up my big girl pants and just meet people, make decisions, stop ghosting people. Among the emoji-studded flat adverts and robotic “PM” comments, where nobody seems to be having a visible breakdown, it’s easy to assume everybody knows what they’re doing except you. But every once in a while someone will post something other than a flat or a pitch. A message of support, a meme about skyhigh rental prices, or, as one admin apologetically posted, a photo of a massive piece of fried chicken. It’s moments like these, where the proverbial fourth wall is broken and we can acknowledge the collective struggle we’re in and laugh, cry or console each other with care-reacts and memes. We’re gonna need all we can get.