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A while back, I was aggravating to alarm my accouterments for the day to my best friend, and I acclimated the babble “hipster-y” to alarm it. Afterwards missing a beat, my associate replied, “Oh that actually makes sense, you’re affectionate of a hipster.” And my face askance up in the ugliest face of all faces. “I’m a hipster?” I asked her while staring at myself in the mirror. She went on to explain that anyone she’d been out with the added night had declared me as a hipster, and that she able they were affectionate of right. So why did it leave such a bad aftereffect in my mouth?
I’m 26 years old, so by itself the ancient activity I did cavalcade Hip-pocalypse, was accomplished to the Internet. Go avant-garde and Google “Am I A Hipster?” and you’ll see a drop of the quizzes I afresh went to boondocks on aggravating to bulk out if I was a hipster or not. They all asked affiliated questions. What do you like to booze at the bar? What pants are you acid adapted now? What are your diplomacy for the weekend? What affectionate of music do you like to acquire to? What affectionate of fizz do you have? What affectionate of sunglasses do you wear? My answers looked like this: pitchers of PBR, angular jeans, traveling to the farmer’s market, I acquire complete all-embracing aftereffect in music, an iPhone 5, Ray-Bans. My eyes went avant-garde as not just one or two, but six of the online quizzes I took told me that I was a hipster. SIX. Six adapted quizzes told me I was a hipster.
None of the quiz after-effects were too offensive. One of them said a few things I in actuality appreciated. What follows are the after-effects verbatim, with my reactions in parentheses. “You are a hipster. (Yikes.) You acquire yourself a progressive, complete thinker that stands out in a crowd. (Okay, not so bad.) You admire accepting allocation of a counter-culture that appreciates art and music alfresco of the mainstream. (True. If I heard Sweater Weather on the Top 40 station, I threw my shoe at the radio and yelled something about breathing that song for two years.) You adeptness not like accepting declared a hipster (Also true.) because they are about associated with an elitist attitude (Yes.) and a somewhat advantaged diplomacy (? I apprehension hipsters were poor academy students.), but at your bulk your altered bend makes you a hipster. (Having a altered bend isn’t terrible.)”
Being a hipster doesn’t complete too bad if you adage it like that, but why do I still acquire such a abrogating affiliation of the babble hipster in my mind? If I ahead of hipsters, I ahead of kids in able-bodied afflicted glasses that crop a lot of artful Instagram photos and haversack themselves with a accustomed adroitness of elitism. About credible in angular jeans, Chucks, and cardigans active to music you’ve allegedly never heard of. They booze their coffee atramentous and acquire a complete aural appraisal on the aftereffect Lena Dunham has on our generation. Rarely angled rain or beam afterwards their Ray-Bans. Abhorrence to be pigeonholed. Abhorrence to be declared hipsters. Yes, I apprehend these are abundantly adventuresome generalizations. I aswell realize, afterwards autograph those out that I fit into just about every alone one of those categories.
I acquainted affectionate of like a kid who had just been told for the complete ancient time that they were adopted. Who am I, and how did I get here? In my adolescence years, I went through several phases. The I-Love-Something-Corporate-Phase, the Front-Row-At-Warped-Tour-Phase, the I’m-Gonna-Be-On-Broadway-Phase, the Wearing-Pajamas-To-School-Phase, the Young-Professional-Phase, the Preppy-Phase. I ambrosial abounding ran the gamut. So bloom me ashamed if I affliction up a arrangement of array of all of them, and the draft of the angel (and my friends, go fig) declared me a hipster. Maybe this, too, was just accession phase.
Waylon Lewis, artist of Elephant Magazine, ambrosial abounding nailed it if he said, “Everybody loves to abhorrence today’s hipsters: they’re too-cool-for-school, they’re jerkfaces, they’re memes, they’re abashed wannabe sheeple acid angular jeans bought from administering aliment appliance mommy’s AmEx.” He goes digest apathy the apologue of the hipster in today’s media, and advise us that the authentic hipsters are artists, entrepreneurs, oddballs that can’t be classified. And the complete alternation of hipster? It goes ashamed to afore Kerouac and Ginsberg put their accession calm in the 50s. It dates ashamed to the applesauce age, and to the bodies who acquainted breathing because of it. Those who acquainted the spark, who acquainted the jazz, who acquainted hip. Hip-sters.
The seventh quiz I took told me I was in the clear, and congratulated me on accepting normal. To which I channelled my adenoids again. Normal? Who wants to be normal? What even is normal? I’d rather be a hipster.
Just don’t say it to my face.
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