White Hipster Seeks New Sub-Culture. Apply Within.

I’ve been sensing it for some time now. The warning signs have been there. I was on the beat poet bandwagon at age 17. I bought a synth for my band in 2008. In the past I’ve had friends tap me on the shoulder, take me quietly aside and point out the fact that my thick-rimmed glasses had no prescription in them. But I didn’t want to believe. I’ve been in denial. “I couldn’t possibly be one of them!” I’d tell myself in draft posts for my personal blog. “My bicycle has three gears!” Or the classic, “Sure, I used to have completely clear Ray Bans, but I went to an optometrist last year and he said I actually have a slight astigmatism. I need them for reading!”

It didn’t matter that my wardrobe was made entirely of American Apparel and skinny jeans. It didn’t matter that I was dating a girl from an indie radio station, could name more typefaces by sight than the designers in my web agency, that I went to gigs of bands I’d never heard of and tweeted my dissatisfaction through their sets, or that I’d dabbled unsuccessfully in vegetarianism but still refused to eat red meat on the grounds that it might be unsustainable. I just couldn’t bring myself to admit that, despite my complete indifference to Wilco, which borders at times on disesteem, I was, in fact, a hipster.

But then, as I lunched with a fixed-gear friend who had been seeing a therapist for some relationship issues, I was introduced to an analysis technique designed to help a person look within to understand more about their lives.

“Write down what you did this weekend,” my friend said. “Write down all the little things. Who you hang out with, what you bought, what you saw, where you went. It’ll tell you who you are.”

So I did. Here is the list.

On the weekend I:

  • Rode a fixed-gear bicycle
    • In Surry Hills
  • Went to a gig
    • of a band you haven’t heard of
  • Attended a photography exhibition where I bumped into Benjamin Law
    • and tweeted about it
  • Bought a necklace with a large retro camera on it made from beads
    • as a present for my friend who is a 20-year-old photographer with a moustache
  • Drank pear cider
    • On a grassy knoll
      • With a bunch of friends from triple j
        • Whilst reading a classic hardback novel
          • Through thick-rimmed underpowered wayfarer spectacles
  • Played chess on my iPhone 4 with a friend who was sitting opposite me
    • In a vegan cafe
      • In Surry Hills
        • and moaned about our jobs in digital
          • whilst convincing my girlfriend
            • who is a photographer in her spare time
              • to work on her personal brand
                • then came home and blogged about it.
                      • a bunch of friends from triple j
                        • Whilst reading a classic hardback novel
                          • Through thick-rimmed underpowered wayfarer spectacles

As the dude from the ‘How much hipster can you pack into a jazz‘ video said: “As Jack Kerouac Said,  ‘Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.'”

If I want to achieve greatness I’ve come to the self-realisation, like Jack Kerouac, my hero, that I need to stop being such a hipster. It may seem at first that writing a blog post about my problem is like a heroin addict shooting up to avoid the cravings. It’s not, it’s a segue into a joke:

Q. How many hipsters does it take to change a lightbulb?

A. It’s a really obscure number, you wouldn’t have heard of it.

Given that no one has heard of me either, and that I’ll never make it to head hipster anyway because my hair is too short/thin to quiff, I think the only way for me to gain any serious social credibility is to join another subculture where I can be ruler. I’ve already been an emo, and have the black nail polish to prove it, but I dislike their music so it’s out of the question. I’m too hairy in the face to be a metrosexual, and I can’t stand flouro, so being a clubber is also off the list. I’m too white to be a rapper, too skinny to be a footballer, too dumb to be in Mensa and too gay to be a skinhead. I do like girls though.

Do you think they’ll let me be a lesbian?

Also, does anyone want to buy a used Micro-Korg and three pairs of thick-framed Ray-Bans? They’d suit someone who likes Empire of the Sun and doesn’t need glasses.

6 replies on “White Hipster Seeks New Sub-Culture. Apply Within.”

Wilco? Hipster? I wouldn’t throw Wilco into the hipster stereotype too quickly.
Maybe try Deerhunter or any band playing the laneway festival next year.
Funny read though!

-I have black rimmed glasses (very much prescription),
– Drank pear cider tonight while watching a band i’d never seen or heard before but was told were decent with barely anyone in the crowd (oooh…next big thing?)
– Used to work on the door at a music venue in Brisbane and for a short time played Chess on the iPhone with the sound man across the room.
– Stamped the arm of Benjamin Law when he came to said venue. (Didn’t tweet about it, and only knew it was him cause his name was on the door)
– I frequent an excellent coffee shop where the barista and regular customers ride ‘fixies’. (My 12 speed Big W mountain bike was stolen by kids last night from my house in the burbs)

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