I will never be a hipster. Lord knows, I would love to be the adorable hipster girl constantly surrounded by a cornucopia of old (sorry, vintage) knickity knacks of equal parts irony and instagramability.
I used to exist under the disillusion that I had untapped hipster potential, but I’ve accepted that I don’t. There’s a fairy that glides over South Williamsburg tucking all the hipsters into bed and bestowing magical ideas upon them. That fairy is unfamiliar with the Central Jersey area. I write this for the purpose of telling all those who are like me, that it is OK. You do you, YOLO, be your own person. Hopefully the Hipster Illuminati will not off me for authoring this article of insurgence.
What follows is an enumerated recounting of my failed experiences desperately trying to join the church of hipsterism.
1. Urban Outfitters
I go to Urban Outfitters, the natural habitat of the hipster. I can’t say I SHOP at Urban Outfitters, but I go. I only understand approximately 50-53% of their merchandise… Why overall shorts? Furthermore, why overall shorts for $98? Why am I to pay such a premium for clothing I was once mocked mercilessly for wearing as a young homeschooled child?
2. Living in a State of Ironicism (Combination of cynicism and irony)
Anything I like, I like unironically. I watch the Golden Girls, because the Golden Girls are amazing and they inspire me to someday kill off my 3 best friend’s husbands so we can all live together and share clothes. I do not mockingly scoff at Justin Beiber for sport, I don’t care about Justin Bieber, so I don’t bring up Justin Bieber.
3. Keeping up with “Indie” Music
It’s exhausting to not only know all the music, but to know it before all the other people. The second I’m patting myself on the back for getting on board with Bon Iver, it’s all like
“Bon Iver? Nah, we are going to the Disco Biscuits”, and I gotta be like “ohh yeah the Disco Biscuits… I’m so totally already over them that I don’t even want you to ask me to name one of their songs.” Then I resume listening to Coldplay, because Strawberry Swing is my jam and ain’t nobody got time for all this.
4. Going Vegan
Is butter a carb?
5. Being a Foodie
None of my foods are worth instagramming, not that that has ever stopped me. I really enjoy string cheese and Campbell’s classic chicken noodle soup.
6. Giving off the “I don’t care” Vibe
I care. There is little to nothing that I’m indifferent about, I can rant on any given topic for 15-24 minutes. This can be exhausting. My ulcers are not hipster.
7. Consignment Shopping
I could get on board with this if thrift shops emailed me weekly 15 “must haves” that I could just clickity click into an online shopping bag and have delivered to my doorstep, preferably with free shipping. I’m not a shopper by nature, I have a hunt and gather mentality… I need a sweater, so I buy a sweater. I have no urge to spend my weekends getting all hot and bothered over telephones that look like telephones.
My perception of tea is as follows: acquire leaves, do something called “steeping”. We can stop right there. I don’t drink anything that “steeps”, because that sounds an awful lot like “seep” …as in, “guys, my wound is currently seeping crusty puss”. What I do appreciate about tea is that I may also find myself in a position to also receive an accompanying scone. Scones I do like. I’m pro-Reaganomics and pro-scones.
I don’t enjoy cats, or pictures of your cat, or even cat memes. I generally tell people I’m allergic to cats to avoid obligation to awkwardly attempt to forge a relationship with your cat. Added bonus: when he jumps on me you will promptly remove him and apologize, which is the reaction I’m looking for regardless of nonexistent allergies.
10. Being “Effortlessly Cool”
Being cool (?) takes all the efforts I can muster. See also: “Giving off the I don’t care vibe”
11. Buying Organic Anything
Where do hipsters get the money for this?! I have a 401(k) and I still cannot afford to spend $6 on strawberries. Us poor folk can only afford to ingest the pesticides. Is that why my pores don’t glow? I will have to accept this.
12. Fixie Bikes
I’m convinced in about 5 years half the hipsters of ‘merica will be impotent. I specifically take issue with Fixie bikes. When I am going too fast I panic, and I try to stop. The stopping will not happen because I don’t instinctually try and stop my speeding bike with my hands. I don’t care if gears are for conformists. GIVE ME GEARS OR GIVE ME DEATH. Better yet, give me a gel seat and send me on my way to SoulCycle. It’s a party in there, and I can afford it with all the money I save by subsiding exclusively on non-organic produce and Polly-O.
13. Pre-Gentrified NYC neighborhoods
The majority of my happy hipster friends are now living in places called “Southern southwest near eastern Williamsburg,” “Bushwick,” and “HARLEM”. They tell me, “oh, it’s much better here now”. Good. I’m glad it’s much better there now. Unfortunately, I cannot be your roommate because I tend to make eye contact with almost everyone I pass on the street and I fear for my life when there isn’t even any remote danger. I live in a suburb that is shamelessly suburban and I will still look behind me as I run up a dark flight of stairs with my shih tzu. I will send you Merry Christmas cards from my home.