Friday, July 30, 2010
How Do the Hipsters Feel?
Instead of feeling overwhelmed and under-dressed around my colorful new neighbors in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, I've chosen my favorite course of action: pondering.
I have given these scene-baskers some serious thought over the past twenty-four hours (arguably not enough time to concoct a serious value judgment, but I'm going for fast hard first-impressions here, so bear with me). And I have decided that I am here for my egregiously hip brothers and sisters.
I present myself as a supporter and defender of twenty-something (and secretly thirty-something) up-starters everywhere...those snug-jeaned, plaid-shirted, designer tattooed, somber-faced, kind-of-still-kids young adults resisting shopping mall fashion and setting the break-neck pseudo-vintage pace Urban Outfitters is forever trying to keep up with. I like you. Heck, I may just be one of you in a way, and that makes me happy because we're a colorful bunch of people with all different religions, skin-tones, amounts of money in the bank, and critical mass of chips on our shoulders, but the thing we all share is tastefulness.
In our headlong rush to eschew pop culture, we've transformed it and made it infinitely more nuanced and inclusive. Hipsters. Who are they/we?? Is that a derogatory term? It feels like one, but I guess it's the hipster in me trying to over-analyze my generation and pick a hyper-critical fight.
Basically, it doesn't matter. I like where I live, and I like the grand display of young urbanites who are bound and determined (for better or worse) to put as much energy into their fashion as they do their philosophies. Bless their/our hip little hearts.