I spent a good part of today reading The Pioneer Woman’s blog, which I haven’t read in months, and laughed out loud a good number of times. Then I read my blog posts thus far and sunk into depression (no, no. I’m ok. no shrinks or pills needed). Am I really turning into Miss Reflective McSelfaware?! I really must lighten up and write about the other things I think about. Reality TV, anyone?

Speaking of being self aware, I had a conversation with a good friend yesterday about Hipsters. We spoke of Hipsters in a definite us vs. them way. Cringing, sniggering, intellectualizing, digging up Wikipedia definitions of ‘Hipster’ while having margaritas in Brooklyn and wearing bandana headbands (her) and large-ish black-framed glasses (me). Oh what fake intellectuals they are! What wannabe creatives they are! Rude! Entitled! Snobbish! Shallow! Of the moment!

Then she mentioned attending a bike convention and immediately, her frayed denim shorts frayed a little more to reveal the word HIPSTER tattooed on her toned, bike-riding thigh. (ok, not really.) And here I sit at a milk bar drinking artisinal hot chocolate and eating a home-made cheddar biscuit, listening to old soul and folk while *gasp!* blogging. HUR HUR HUR. In my defense, this is my attempt to break my endless Olympic-watching downward spiral into couch-potatodom since the end of my participation in gainful employment 48 hrs ago.

Are we hipsters??? Who am I kidding. What I really want to know is… am I a hipster? And if I am, does that make me scum of the earth? Or just… well, hipster? Well, lets turn to THE AUTHORITY on all matters – Wikepedia. Here is the definition and whether I fit into it or not.

Hipster refers to a subculture of young [check], recently settled [check] urban [check] middle class [check] white [wah-wah] adults [check] and older teenagers that appeared in the 1990s. The subculture is associated with independent music [wah-wah: The music I know best is whatever my aunts listen to: Stevie Wonder/ Elton John or 90s boybands], a varied non-mainstream fashion sensibility [up for debate: no crocs! but no skinny jeans/ plaid either!], and alternative lifestyles [wah-wah: teacher who goes to bed by 10pm]. Interests in media would include independent film [wah-wah: films on my itunes include rom-coms, musicals & Christmas movies. Who doesn’t like to feel mushy at all times?!], magazines such as Vice andClash [wah wah: what? and whaaa?], and websites like Pitchfork Media  and Tumblr [wah wah: what? and go WordPress!].[1]

Hipster culture has been described as a “mutating, trans-Atlantic melting pot of styles, tastes and behavior[s].”[1] Christian Lorentzen of Time Out New York argues that “hipsterism fetishizes the authentic” elements of all of the “fringe movements of the postwar era—beat [check: I spent 2 days in SF going to places the Beats once tread]hippie [check: I have owned upwards of 15 tunics & butterfly-sleeved tops, a few bell-bottoms/ flared jeans and a whole lotta beads]punk [wah-wah unless you count rocking some assymetrical spikes on my head in college], even grunge [wah wah. seriously. when this movement was in full swing, I was listening to The Donut Man cassette tapes & pretending to be an orphan in Annie, so I have no clue, really],” and draws on the “cultural stores of every unmelted ethnicity,” [umm, I belong to/ am of one of these unmelted ethnicities] and “regurgitates it with a winking inauthenticity.” [wah wah. I can’t wink. But I do like to stick my ol’ tongue in my cheek once in a while.] [2]

So, friends, what’s the verdict?

Rosie The Riveter or Brooklyn Hipster?

This entry was published on August 2, 2012 at 8:40 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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