Oh boy.
Oh boy oh boy oh boy.
I suppose it was inevitable.
It’s Rachel’s Table‘s fault, really. At least, she’s the one who pointed it out. I never liked her.
Let me back up.
Last Friday, my good bloggy bud, Rache, and I (and our indulgent husbands) met up in Lambertville, New Jersey, under the guise of supporting a favorite local brewery, River Horse.
They had to come up with a summer ale after we drank the winter stash last November.
We had a blast, the true implications of the night yet to dawn on me. Two days later, Rache broke the news. I reacted accordingly.
That’s right. Rache accused me of being a… a… hipster.
I needed time to process this, starting with the above image from Friday night. Sepia, Instagram-esque photo filter. Eep. Then the setting: A no fuss, no muss local brewery with exposed brick and tacky fluorescent lighting. Double eep. Lastly, there was how we ended the night – in an old school bar. Eeps to infinity. As Rache put it, we weren’t even trying to be ironic. Yet it was all so… so… authentically inauthentic. Winking.
This was a grave matter indeed; I had to do some research. While the rest of you grilled animal flesh and donned red, white and blue in celebration of Memorial Day, I looked up over a dozen definitions of hipster, and read several articles (including this gem from the New York Times, How I Became a Hipster).
If I knew exactly what I was up against, maybe I could stop this tempeh and hemp-powered train from heading straight to Brooklyn. Or worse, Portland.
I read the articles closely.
It was bad. I, along with my hipster brethren, abbreviated words like ridiculous and totally. We watched HBO’s Girls. We drank sazeracs. We obsessed over indie music, local food and sustainable energy.
So why was being a hipster rocking my mustachioed world? For starters, I like plenty of mainstream crap. Oh no. I just called it crap. Well, never mind, forget that one. Also? I’m well scrubbed, don’t look good in plaid, and wool makes me break out.
Perhaps most telling, I’ve never said, “I was into ____ before they got big.” (I’ve thought it, though. A lot. And maybe said it ironically, once or twice. …Shoot.)
There is one catch to my seemingly inevitable slide into skinny jeans, rooftop gardening and fixed-gear bicycle riding: I awkwardly, laboriously and spectacularly try and fail to be cool. There is no pretending otherwise. I want to be cool. I want everyone to like me (even hipsters). I do care, and I don’t hide it.
So for now you’ll find me rocking my facial hair the only way I know how. Smugly. Hilariously. Genuinely.
First hub, Peppermeister, on the other hand…
What does being a hipster mean to you? (For some wildly funny breakdowns on hipsterdom, check out this page on Cracked.com. Toldja I did my research.)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jules,
Rule #1: A hipster denies being a hipster.
Rule #2: Le Clown is not a hipster.
Rule #3: Refer to rule #1.
Le Clown
Le Clown,
Want to meet downtown at that little dive that sells fois gras sliders?
Yours in facial hair and fedoras,
Jules
Jules,
I’ll first grab a few Pabst Blue Ribbon first which I won’t drink but will make sure it’s visible. Be right there.
Le Clown
Le Clown,
You might have to tap me on the shoulder to get my attention. I’ll be the one wearing headphones attached to a Casio Walkman.
Jules
Jules,
I’m sorry, what did you say? It’s hard to listen to you when I’m reading Infinite Jest and walking.
Le Clown
I totes just snorted up my chai tea-coffee infused water.
Ditto.
I did a little bit of my own research after reading your stuff here because ‘hipster’ isn’t a very widely used term here in England, or so I thought, but then I found some descriptions of the type of hipsters you might find in London – http://www.buzzfeed.com/lukelewis/types-of-hipster-you-encounter-in-london very interesting, I also found that instead of ‘hipster’ some people prefer the term ‘urban artist’ even if they are not technically an artist, just because it sounds cooler, ya know?
Urban artist.
Oh. That hurts my soul. It just gets worse and worse, doesn’t it? *hangs wool cap-wearing head in shame*
I had to look ‘hipster’ up too! After what I read about it, I’d say the way you reacted to the accusation is truly hipster 😉 There’s no denying it!
The fact that that didn’t dawn on me when I wrote this post is the ultimate irony.
I now walk into the wild.
I’m with the Clown. 😉
On the upside, he has an enviable fedora collection that I think he’s willing to share.
😉
Apart from the handlebar mustache, I would say you are not a hipster. Because if you are a hipster than I am a hipster and I am most certainly not a hipster.
Exactly. On a totally unrelated note, what do you think of lavender and ketchup together?
Whew! I am so glad that being a Redneck carries none of the social stigma of being a hipster.
You say that now, but have you seen this hipster food truck movement? Trailer parks are next.
Not without a fight! I’ll sic the lady in #12-A on the lot of you! Unless they have Mexican Food food trucks. Then all bets are off.
No joke – that’s how they get you. The food. And the booze.
I’m a goner.
Um….I like, totally don’t get anything you’re talking about in this post so what does that make me? Clueless? yeah, I’ll go with that. Every time I see the word ‘hipster’ I only think of how much my hip aches right now that it’s raining outside.
And after seeing those photos of you two, I know for sure I never want to be seen in public with either of you. Unless hanging out with a plaid-wearing lumberjack girl is hip.
Oh Darly Pants, you just incriminated yourself with the “plaid-wearing lumberjack” description – that’s the ultimate “I could stand in for someone in Mumford and Sons” hipster garb.
One day we will all be side-by-side. Le Sigh. And I’ll never let go, [Lumber] Jack.
yeah! Totally! I’m very Mumford and Sons! “I will wait, I will wait for youuuuuuuuuuuu!”(that reminds me, I have to go wax my mustache/beard…..)
Hipster tendencies? Ha! I came out if the hipster closet a coupla months ago – http://foodandwinehedonist.com/2013/03/27/i-have-a-major-confession-to-make/
Ridic noble move, bro. Totes.
(Can’t wait to read this.)
That “over it” side-eyed face you are making in the first photo says it all. You’re done for.
I’m looking up organic ketchup recipes right now. On my MacBook.
Cool!!! My father grew up in Lambertville! About the coolest town ever. Of course, back then it was very blue collar. Not the tourist area it is now. One of his cousins owns the Boat House bar and The Swan Hotel building and the bar inside. You need to try those if you haven’t been before. Still try to visit once a year, still have family across the bridge in New Hope.
Nice!! I haven’t been there, but I’ll have to check it out. Is it hipster enough for me? 😉
Oh yes! Definitely hipster enough! You could probably even get one of those frou-frou champagn-ey drinks that you like! 🙂
Okay. Sold. Let me know when you’re in town. You’re buying, right?
Well I DO hate you right now, but only because you didn’t invite me to this hipster coming out party!! And here I was sitting home with the family, NOT celebrating at a local brewery.
I am very angry. I will be over here stewing and pouting.
Damn hipsters.
You know what’s really sad? The brewery ‘summer ale’ event was SOLD OUT the same day we got tickets. I’ve been so busy planning for the zombie apocalypse, I failed to notice the greater threat: Hipster Invasion 2013.
It’s curious that you would mention that seeing as you were THERE. AT the event. The one attracting multiple hipsters.
I think you see where I’m going with this, no?
Still mad over here, though . . .
Portland? Psh. Portland is so over, man.
Actually it isn’t, but it’s about to be. I was there a couple weeks ago and it’s reached a level of hipster-cartoonish-absurdity that only happens when the wave is about to crash. I saw a hitchhiker in vintage, skinny-pants and a handlebar moustache. A hitchhiker.
Can you imagine what was inside his satchel? An $800 multi-purpose tool, spring water, an “off the beaten path” hiking guide, a leather-bound journal and fountain pen with ink he made himself from crushed
idealsberries… Oh and a Clif bar.Waaaait just a darned minute here.
Don’t you mean Portland, MAINE? I mean, let’s get real. Portlandia is so nauseatingly hip it’s the opposite of hip. Over in this neck o’ the woods we have real hitchhikers who have nary a penny to their name, reek of cow poo, patchouli and maple syrup, and say things like ‘nary’. I spit on the Portlandians. Go back to Seattle and get a tattoo and a latte, you posers.
(sorry, I just get so worked up when it’s Portland vs. Portland)
Trends are changing round. All this hipster stuff are things worn decades ago that a few years ago would be social suicide! Soon trends will change again to like Victorian or something
Holy CRAP I cannot wait for the day when I can rock a corset without getting fired.
…There’s no hope for me, is there?
Haha 🙂 Soon we’ll go back to naked cavemen and the human race will be overthrown by the Nudes
I must admit I used to have a problem with the hipster concept. http://pegoleg.com/2011/08/22/it%E2%80%99s-hip-to-be-square%E2%80%A6right/ But now it’s pretty clear.
“While the rest of you did…I spent the weekend…” When you reach that level of condescension, there’s no maybe about it, Jules. Eeps.
Ha! I was wondering if anyone would pick up on that, Peggles. <—Condescension SQUARED! Totes! Ridic!
You know, some might say repurposed, handmade wool treasures are… well… hipster-ific. The fact that I love Peep so much isn't helping your case, either. 😉
HA! Oh, Jules. This made me chuckle as I (ironically) drank raw milk out of my River Horse Brewery glass. I especially like the expression on my face when I say you look like a smurf. Classic.
So how does it feel to finally admit to being so not mainstream you’re mainstream?
PS – True story: I JUST had a conversation with a friend about MAKING MY OWN KETCHUP (pepper-infused, no less). But I didn’t want to make a batch before using up all my (high fructose corn syrup free, natch) store-bought ketchup, because that would be wasteful.
Now, please excuse me while I go make jewelry out of shards of glass and cat whiskers.
Your static smile is surprisingly versatile, Rachey Poo. Thank you for letting me take such liberties with another one of your hot-ass images.
Whilst I may not want to risk donning one of your necklaces, I will gladly enjoy some of your pepper-infused ketchup atop my free-range, local eggs. Do I have to take my hat off at your table?
You two lovely ladies have given me a migraine. Thanks for that.
I think some of my aspirin-infused ketchup will help you out there.
I thought hipsters only ate catsup.
Alas, you’re right, Patty. It’s soul-sucking to try to write so common-folk will understand.
Touche, Patty.
I am not cool enough for this conversation–but then again, I am old……..
Honestly I’m amazed that I’m cool enough for ANY conversation. That may be why most of mine revolve around chipmunks.
acceptance is important–and chipmunk acceptance is on a whole higher level
Don’t worry. You’re the best hipster I know. All the others are obnoxious. You’re just cute 🙂
Aw, back at’cha, Cappy! The cute part. I wouldn’t dare accuse you of being a hipster. Unlike SOME people whose name rhymes with Schmachel’s Schmable. 😉
I’ve never understood what a hipster means, and honestly, I still don’t. I resonate with nerd, totally and completely, that’s me. One question, and remember I’m blonde- not that that necessarily means anything other than it is my chemical induced natural hair color 😉 Anyway, Portland, Oregon? Or Portland, Maine? I live in Portland, Oregon and stick out like a sore thumb as a nerd. I don’t drink my coffee out of a mason jar nor do I have chickens in my backyard, and I like mainstream crap too!
That’s why I had to do so much research! “Hipster” is such a confusing term – the generic definition on the dictionalry websites is “someone who follows trends” but that soooooo doesn’t cut it.
I was talking about your hometown! My understanding is that it’s pretty much the birthplace of the modern-day hispter.
Please don’t start hating Portland. I love Portland. Someday I will move there. Even if it means becoming a hipster. So I’m reading your post, enjoying my greek yogurt and thinking how just yesterday I had a conversation with my mom that went something like “Have you ever tried greek yogurt? I’m not a real yogurt fan, but they’ve been showing greek yogurt on tv a lot. And I think greek yogurt is more tangy than regular yogurt, so I kind of like it. You should try it. I bought myself two as an experiment to treat myself with. But they cost like $4 a piece! I’m really digging this greek yogurt.”
Does that make me a hipster?…..It might be time to move.
I love Portland, too! Can I come visit you when you move there? If I promise not to eat all of your greek yogurt (as long as you label it “JW”…I may not try to turn the “W” into a “D”…)?
Jules! Love the self-awareness here. I wrote a post once that sort of reminds me of your sentiment in which I admit I’ve become one of those moms running around in lululemon all day long. It’s sort of horrifying. Being a hipster sounds better. Maybe I’ll grab a smurf hat and give it a go. (Loved the infused ketchup line. I’ll bet someone somewhere is drawing a up a business plan for that right now.)
Meanwhile, if you haven’t been by Renee’s blog check out her most recent post (the prom one). It is really up your alley, I think!
I confess I can’t remember exactly what a lululemon is, but I bet you rock it. Rachel told me after I wrote this post that she WAS actually making her own pepper-infused ketchup the other day! NOW who’s the hipster?
I’m totes not a hipster. No, really. Problem is, I could buy something uncool, (neither hipster cool nor mainstream cool), wear it for a few years, and then it suddenly hipsters pick something like it up as a trend, and then people think I’m a hipster. I hate when that happens. Oh my God, I think I am a hipster…
No, no, you’re still good! Everyone has told me that if you ADMIT to being a hipster, you cancel yourself out.
Therefore, I would like to announce: I am the most hipstery of hipsters, and they will come to know me as their queen and fearful leader.
“fearful leader” – that sound hipsterically ironic….
By the way, thank you for following my blog – the more people follow me, the more mainstream I become. And the more mainstream I become, the less likely I am to be taken for a hipster.
P.S. – Yes. “Fearful.” I’m very afraid.
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i always thought Smurfette was a hipster…
She was totally into blue body paint before it was cool.
Ha, for starters, a hipster never self-identifies. So I’d say, if you don’t want to be a hipster, the first thing to do is call yourself a hipster. Ok, I just confused myself.
I would patronize your ketchup shop though.
Jill, at first I read that as you would be “patronizing towards” my ketchup shop” (as in, you would look down upon it), and I thought that was such a hipster thing to say.
I will save you some of my latest curry-infused experiment.
Lol. I would patronizingly patronize your shop. I’m confusing myself again.
Something to do with hips?
I think it’s more to do with “sters,” actually.
Good!
It’s ok. I still like you.
You’ve always been generous with your affections, Thoughtsy. Thank you. Plus I think hipsters probably came up with the idea of homemade pop-tarts in cool restaurants.
Oh no! I made homemade pop tarts.
Does . . . does that make me a . . .
((hipster?))
ha ha ha I was actually thinking of that post of yours when I said that, Misty! If you can’t beat em… (feed em?)
Well crap. This won’t end well. I look dreadful in skinny jeans. Although I DO rock hats, so I imagine I would be styling in a knit beanie.
Ok, fine . . . why don’t you just go ahead and give me that ketchup recipe already. I’m in. Let’s do this . . . hipster style!!
I laugh at this because I could never be a hipster. I acknowledge that I am not cool, and I have crappy taste in everything and I don’t even like it to be ironic. I like it because I’m just weird.
I’m kinda with Jill up there, though. By admitting you’re a hipster, you’re not a hipster. Because a hipster would never admit to being a hipster.
Sigh. At least I have this amazing new line of infused ketchup with which to comfort myself.
Make sure you sell it at the farmer’s market. 😉
At least you weren’t wearing a scarf – sure sign of hipsterism, a scarf is an always appropriate (yet ironic) article of clothing. 😉
Dang. I love scarves. But not ironically. I walk my cat on a leash in a somewhat ironic fashion, but only around my suburban yard, which I think negates the hipster-esque potential? Or not? I am still not grasping the whole picture here, but you have made me think. And laugh.
Our hipster cup overfloweth here in the fair city of Austin. But at this point, it seems too exhausting to worry about whether I’m a part of that hipster-steria or not. I’ll just drink my craft beer in the corner while listening to a band you’ve never heard of on my vinyl record player in peace, thankyouverymuch. 😉
It’s ok Jules, my boyfriend and I probably look like hipsters to some people too. We live in the artsy part of town, he wears plaid shirts almost exclusively (but has since the 90’s so…), I live in dresses and work for an arts magazine (that people always tell me they’ve never heard of even though it’s been around for 30 years… yey) and we like cocktails and good food. It’s not like we or you or a lot of other people are TRYING to be hipsters, it’s just a phrase people like to throw around. Cracked recently did a feature on why that word is overused now and why it needs to stop – I agree. Also.. I like cupcakes, but there is a cupcake store right around the block from our place! It’s next to the gourmet cheese store we like to shop at ;P here is the video if you are interested:
http://www.cracked.com/video_18560_why-its-time-to-stop-calling-everything-hipster.html
That mustache in your avatar did most of the convincing, but your writing sealed the deal on my decision. I’ve nominated you for a WordPress award. Woo! Pop open the champagne.
http://nicholiovich.wordpress.com/2013/06/26/readers-appreciation-award/ is where you can collect it 🙂