Oh, hey there.
So, I really doubt I'd ever in all seriousness write a post about this particular topic . . . however, recent occurrences and encounters have prompted me to do so.
First things first. What is a hipster? According to UrbanDictionary, a pretty unreliable source, a hipster is " a subculture of men and women typically in their 20's and 30's that
value independent thinking, counter-culture, progressive politics, an
appreciation of art and indie-rock, creativity, intelligence, and witty
banter." Well, that seems pretty accurate, doesn't it? I have also come across the phrase "elitist hipster." I was curious as to what UrbanDictionary had to say about that. An elitist hipster is "[someone] who thinks they aren't hipsters, because they are educated, rich,
spoiled, pretty, and of course, better than hipsters. However, they are
nothing but useless . . . hipsters"
 |
| More or less a hipster |
Now, a few fun stories about a hipster who I've had several, usually frustrating, encounters with.
One of my female friends happens to have a hipster suitor . . . she is in a happily committed relationship. Said hipster is not happy about the relationship and has repeatedly tried to interfere. He of course, was thwarted. I don't know if I've ever mentioned the fun story about a conversation that was had about me and my friendship with the aforementioned female, hereby known as Ducky. Ducky and I are very close and have a unique friendship, which makes the hipster suitor jealous. Anyway, long story short, I was basically threatened, which I find really funny, by the way, and was called "very handsy."
Fast forward to a few weeks ago, as this was second semester, and we find ourselves at another story with the same hipster. We had a poster sale here on campus and he more or less called people out for being "sheeple," (his word, not mine) and that people shouldn't buy certain posters for the sake of being cool; a Facebook comment battle ensued. Ducky's boyfriend, who shall be referred to as Scampers called the hipster out on being an elitist hipster. The hipster had a moment of passive aggressiveness* via Facebook where he was whining about being called an elitist hipster and was all "I'm going to change my lifestyle because people called me an elitist hipster douche. Blah blah, blah."
That's a really poor place to end my story, but it brings me to another point: being a hipster. No one aspires to be a hipster unless they really have a massive superiority complex and like looking down on people for their choices in music, literature, clothes, and so on. The hipster in this story is a self proclaimed hipster, which annoys everybody who isn't his friend . . . actually, it probably annoys everybody. An analysis of his Facebook, done through creeping since I'm not his Facebook friend, reveals several things: the first of which is that he isn't actually a hipster. He's "trendy." Since when are hipsters trendy? Aren't hipsters supposed to go against social norms and rebuke anything "trendy?" Another thing that sticks out as non-hipster are his choices in literature, film, and books (ironic, isn't it). No self respecting hipster (. . . let that sit there for a minute . . .) would dare be found watching such classics as "V for Vendetta," "Zombieland," "Star Wars," and especially "Harry Potter."
Now we turn our focus to the writer of this blog - Me. I've already shared this story with my close friends, but now it's the internet's turn for this gem of a story (I promise, I'm not a broken record . . . I just want to share this with the world). I recently had to spend several hours in the theatre here on campus as part of my theatre class and for being a part of the cast of The Foreigner. As we were waiting for the last piles of sawdust to be swept up, several of us were standing around, just talking. Another of my female friends, whom I shall refer to as Lover. Lover made on an offhand comment about me being a hipster, a claim which I immediately refuted. Some random female, who is in my theatre class disputed my refusal to accept the label of hipster. She proceeded to ask my various questions. The following passage is as close to as what was actually said.
TG (Theatre Girl): Where are you?
M (Me): The theatre.
TG: What color are your shoe laces?
M: Blue (Sidenote: My Chucks were grey).
TG: What color is your shirt?
M: Orange? What does that have to do with anything?
TG: Who's your favorite band?
M: I don't know?
TG: Have I ever heard of them?
M: Maybe? I don't know?
TG: You're a hipster.
Then some other guy mentioned my beard . . . I have a beard, by the way. In short, it was a very interesting conversation.
Alright team, I'm having a very, very meta moment writing this blog: A) Because it's a blog; 2) I was called a hipster all of forty eight hours ago; and Purple) I just tried to deny the claims of being a hipster.
* I realize by only referring to people by code names is pretty passive aggressive, or maybe I'm totally missing or misinterpreting the definition. Either way, just go with it.
I've wasted enough of your time about hipsters. One more thing, if I do happen to be a hipster, it's not like I go out of my way to actually be a hipster. I come by certain things naturally . . . I enjoy certain types of music, books, and movies that not everyone will understand or know. It happens.
Anyway. I've said all I can really or want to say about this.
With that, goodnight and sleep tight.
