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[title]FlexMami comes across as the epitome of individuality. From bold outfit choices to brazen hot takes, it’s clear she doesn’t shy away from being unique. But lately, Flex (aka Lillian Ahenkan) has been learning to let herself enjoy the “basic” things in life.
“I used to have this funny relationship towards hype,” she says, “Watching the way that the world decides that things are fascinating… How is it possible? How can we all like the same thing at once? “Then the Women’s World Cup came on and I was like, ‘OK, I get it.’”
If you happen to be one of the Ghanaian-Australian influencer’s 169,000 Instagram followers, you’ll know that (like a lot of us) she got behind the Matildas – and women’s sport – off the back of their soccer success. Continuing with that theme, the night before our chat she hosted the AFLW season eight launch. Hosting and presenting are some of the many feathers in the 29-year-old’s cap. While her FlexMami persona is generally painted with the broad brush strokes of a typical influencer, in actuality, she’s the definition of multi-hyphenate entrepreneur.
In fact, recently she’s even been a TV Week Logie nominee, for hosting Channel Nine’s Love Island after show. She also co-hosts a CADA radio show with her pal and comedian Froomes, has her own clothing and jewellery lines, is a best-selling author, and has a range of innovative conversation cards (cleverly coined ReFlex)... Now, take a second to catch your breath, and get this – years ago before her influencer days, she was a successful DJ, opening for huge music names like SZA, Kaytranada and Doja Cat. Very, very cool.
With all those ventures in mind, we’re keen to know – how does she feel about being put in the influencer box?
“This perception of being an influencer, perhaps it's derogatory, but it also affords me heaps of opportunity, access and resources that I wouldn’t have gotten otherwise,” Flex says.
“I am so much more [than an influencer], but what does it actually matter?
“You can’t control how you’re perceived anyway… and do people need to rattle off the ten job titles? So, contextually, influencer works.”
So how does one become such a multi-disciplinarian? Flex started by hustling in the world of PR, which was a natural progression into working in the realm of social media. Then, while she was a rising-star DJ, she landed a big break with a presenting gig on MTV. She’s been an in-demand figure ever since.
Personally, I’ve followed Flex online for years and admired her use of her platform for social commentary. She admitted that she doesn’t facilitate online discussions as often these days, as she’s transitioned from working tirelessly to create “profound experiences” for her audience, to “just showing up like everyone else”. But previously, she’s laboriously spoken out about parasocial relationships between influencers and the broader public.
So I ask, what does she wish more people knew about being a social media figure? “I think the closest thing I can compare it to is when you're in your adolescence and you're starting to gain sentience, and you're like, ‘Oh, people have ideas about me that I don't necessarily agree with’, or, ‘I actually don't like myself very much’.
“Think about that and then multiply it by like 160,000 every day. On any given day, 100, 200, 300, people [may be] talking at you, about you… [but] it's how we've been socialised to interact with people, it's a very moreish, entitled way.”
In spite of her criticisms, she empathises with the average social media user. “I’m a consumer [too], so I get it… the kind of incentive I have to understand my consumer, they don't have the same incentive to understand me.
“Having your brain do that extra work would be confusing, it's like if I were to watch TV every day and humanise [all the actors], maybe I wouldn't watch TV at all.”
We’re having this sociocultural discussion in the living space of her Collingwood apartment, surrounded by colourful furniture (some upscale, some from the Salvos) and quirky, niche art pieces that speak to her unique signature style. Three months ago, she left her long-time home in the eastern suburbs of Sydney (an Aussie influencer haven) and moved to Melbourne.
As she’s no stranger to hot takes, I’m dying to hear her thoughts on the long-standing debate between Sydney and Melbourne for best city status, but she calls the feud “unnecessary”.
“They’re just not the same place at all, they’re not even remotely similar,” she declares.
“There’s an aesthetic difference… you can tell visually that you’re not in Sydney. The buildings don’t look the same, the people don't look the same, the restaurants don't look the same, people dress very differently.”
Despite only having lived in her new city for a short time, she’s already formulated astute thoughts on what she’s loving about her new home. “I think Melbourne does third spaces really well… there’s something about casual socialising that happens here, that’s a byproduct of the casual outdoor culture,” she says.
Flex admires the dedication Melburnians have to preserving the “sanctity” of culture and nightlife, more so than happens in Sydney. “Melbourne delivers on its promise of being an arts and culture city. People are motivated to go to a random queer Middle-Eastern movie night on a Tuesday, because someone, somewhere has fought for the privilege of that happening,” she says.
Local venues that have made an impression on her so far include Hope St Radio, Neighbourhood Wine and Poodle, and she’s already a regular for a toastie at Aphro and Wolfe or vodka pasta at Capitano.
“My number one priority was to find vodka pasta here, or at least find Melbourne versions of Sydney things that I love to have,” she says.
And while some might call the move from Sydney to Melbourne predictable, Flex says she doesn’t mind falling for the trope. “There’s a reason people move from Sydney to Melbourne in droves… it’s really nice to enjoy things that have been tried and tested.”
It’s a lesson she’s embracing at the moment – to balance her audacious individuality from which her success in the media sphere was born, with simply finding enjoyment in living life among the crowd.
“My whole life I’ve had this hyper-individuality complex. Like I’m so different, I’m so unique… but it’s not helpful,” she muses.
“It's very isolating to think that you're above being basic and having basic, popular interests… you believe that you can’t think, feel and behave like everybody around you.”
It’s an earnest self-appraisal that she delivers with casual ease. Flex has an admirable ability to oscillate between playful humour and intellectualised insights on any given topic. But it’s not jarring, it’s her style of discourse that feels accessible, and speaks to why she has a fast-growing fanbase.
Her open self-reflection led her to another one of her entrepreneurial ventures, her non-fiction book The Success Experiment, which utilises her own experiences to explore how to create a fulfilling path in life. The book was published a couple of years ago, so has her personal definition of success changed since then? “I still think it matches the definition in the book, it's making sure that my inner reality matches my outer reality,” she says. “It’s very difficult to do… because you can’t quantify that. But the less of a gap there is, the more successful I feel.”
It’s a formula that clearly works for her and is apparent in her persona – from the way she outwardly displays her inner-self through fashion, art and articulate discourse, to her diverse career. Self-expression oozes from her, and it’s inspiring to witness. Alongside many onlookers and admirers, I’m excited to see what she does next.