I have a friend, Glenn, who shops in vintage stores and wears forties-style hats. He has square dark-rimmed glasses. He makes a living as a glass-blower. He mostly listens to lounge music and movie soundtracks. His primary means of transport is a skateboard. You might well think him a near-perfect example of the urban hipster. Glenn’s opinion of hipsters? “I fucking hate them!”
An ex-girlfriend of mine lived in the Mission District in San Francisco. She had tattoos, a design job, and played in a kickball league. And spoke with disdain about “Mission Hipsters”.
I could come up with more examples, and I’m sure you could too. We are on the edge of a mystery here: Hipsters are everywhere, as far as the eye can see. And yet nobody, anywhere, admits to being one.
Apparently this isn’t just the case in San Francisco, where I’ve observed it. Adbusters had a recent cover article inveighing against the hipster phenomenon. I personally found it to be a little histrionic, especially since reading Adbusters is itself a leading indicator of hipsterism, but it was delightfully snarky. My favorite line was, “they must be buried for cool to be reborn”. What caught my eye throughout was that everybody the writer talked to talked about hipsters, but vehemently denied being one themselves.
What is going on here?
The bad rap on hipsters is that they’re style with no substance, listlessly appropriating an image put out by the marketplace. And yet, except in the marketplace of ideas, there doesn’t seem to be anybody who’s a member of this movement. Whether or not they argued with society about the meaning of the label, hippies and punks more often than not identified themselves as hippies and punks.
It makes one wonder if perhaps a label is being applied to a bunch of people who are simply doing their own thing. And, being people who are doing their own thing, they naturally bristle and reject the label. When I sit down and think about it, I can’t find a unifying characteristic of the many different people and groups that I might label “hipster” except that they are; A) not me; and B) objects of a mixture of disdain and envy within myself.
This makes me think that I’ve been sold a bill of goods, perhaps by the same prefabricating force in society that hipsters are alleged by…who?…to be coopted to.What do you think? Are hipsters real or imagined? Idiosyncratic expressionists or the apathetic end of civilization? Do you know anyone who is one? Are you? Is anyone? And if not, might we all just be what we are, and deserve to encounter each other as such?
Hipsters Are Everywhere, But Nobody Is a Hipster
Published: February 12, 2009Posted in: Ear Me Out
I have a friend, Glenn, who shops in vintage stores and wears forties-style hats. He has square dark-rimmed glasses. He makes a living as a glass-blower. He mostly listens to lounge music and movie soundtracks. His primary means of transport is a skateboard. You might well think him a near-perfect example of the urban hipster. Glenn’s opinion of hipsters? “I fucking hate them!”
An ex-girlfriend of mine lived in the Mission District in San Francisco. She had tattoos, a design job, and played in a kickball league. And spoke with disdain about “Mission Hipsters”.
I could come up with more examples, and I’m sure you could too. We are on the edge of a mystery here: Hipsters are everywhere, as far as the eye can see. And yet nobody, anywhere, admits to being one.
Apparently this isn’t just the case in San Francisco, where I’ve observed it. Adbusters had a recent cover article inveighing against the hipster phenomenon. I personally found it to be a little histrionic, especially since reading Adbusters is itself a leading indicator of hipsterism, but it was delightfully snarky. My favorite line was, “they must be buried for cool to be reborn”. What caught my eye throughout was that everybody the writer talked to talked about hipsters, but vehemently denied being one themselves.
What is going on here?
The bad rap on hipsters is that they’re style with no substance, listlessly appropriating an image put out by the marketplace. And yet, except in the marketplace of ideas, there doesn’t seem to be anybody who’s a member of this movement. Whether or not they argued with society about the meaning of the label, hippies and punks more often than not identified themselves as hippies and punks.
It makes one wonder if perhaps a label is being applied to a bunch of people who are simply doing their own thing. And, being people who are doing their own thing, they naturally bristle and reject the label. When I sit down and think about it, I can’t find a unifying characteristic of the many different people and groups that I might label “hipster” except that they are; A) not me; and B) objects of a mixture of disdain and envy within myself.
This makes me think that I’ve been sold a bill of goods, perhaps by the same prefabricating force in society that hipsters are alleged by…who?…to be coopted to.What do you think? Are hipsters real or imagined? Idiosyncratic expressionists or the apathetic end of civilization? Do you know anyone who is one? Are you? Is anyone? And if not, might we all just be what we are, and deserve to encounter each other as such?
GREAT post Chris!! Totally hits the mark!! I’m definitely the definition of a hipster, who doesn’t consider himself one either! But from this day forth, I will reclaim my title and be the best hipster I can be!! :)
You know, wouldn’t the code of hipster actually denote that it is impossible to actually BE a hipster, since if you say you belong then you automatically are rejected on principle?
It kind of reminds me of the irrefutable self-propelling logic of being accused of being a Communist or a Witch. Maybe if an accused Hipster drowns in a microbrew instead of floating they’re proven innocent?
Chris West, that was genius.
Interesting topic, I read that article a while back and thought it was brilliantly wild. and LOL@ chris west
Brilliant, Chris! I’m glad you spoke on the fact that hipsters are “A) not me (isn’t that what they all say); and B) objects of a mixture of disdain and envy within myself.” Well said. My most common encounter with hipsters has involved fixed gear bicycles and thick rimmed wayfarers and gold sparkled high tops with skin tight jeans and always listening to hot chip/broken social scene/MGMT with tattoos on their arms which are obvious because their t shirt is way too small and a chrome/timbuktu bag strapped on their back while balancing their bicycle at a stop light and cutting you off. But the hipster girls are so cute!