Stuff Hipsters Hate (10 page)
Read Stuff Hipsters Hate Online
Authors: Brenna Ehrlich,Andrea Bartz
Again, in the preening habits of hipsters, we see in stark plainness the classic “battle of who could care less.” Society may look upon an ungroomed hipster and see a messy child, a gutter punk or a homeless person, but in the realm of hipsterdom, the less you care, the more attractive, strong and authentic you are. Extra props to folks who don’t own a hairbrush.
Whether it’s a carefully arranged angular coiffure, a mess of wild curls or a Jesus mop complete with a beard that sprouts along one’s face like moss creeping along the forest floor, the structural integrity of a hipster’s hair is severely jeopardized by water. Forget “lather, rinse, repeat”—hipster hair-washing comes at regular, widely spaced intervals, like the wax and wane of the full moon.
Hipster, why are you so white? I see you frolicking in the summer sunshine through every outdoor craft fair and ironic family-fiestathemed cookout (with balloons! balloon-es!) this side of the East River. Yet your skin is as white as fresh milk. Are you sneaking on 50+ SPF, showing foresight and concern for your health in the most unhipsterish manner? For shame.
In the hipster world, being hot is a lot less important than being “interesting looking.” While a dude with close-cropped hair, a chiseled jaw and a swimmer’s physique may be a prime physical specimen to the rest of society, to a hipster he’s pretty much a nonentity. Let us suppose that people only really take note of the members of the opposite sex that they find attractive, rendering the rest of society invisible: When a hipster walks into, say, Abercrombie & Fitch, it is as if she is walking into a room bereft of humanity, filled only with douchey clothing. In order to make oneself visible, and therefore sexually viable to a hipster girl, one must find a way in which to distinguish oneself from the cellophane crowd.
Really, it’s simple mathematics:
Take one attractive man and add one (or all) of the following:
15
15
And what do you get? Tragically marred beauty. And there’s nothing hipsters love more than tragedy.
NB: This method can also save outright ugly dudes from living the celibate life. It’s amazing what a well-placed tat and some camouflaging facial hair can do for a guy who would otherwise be spending his Saturday nights watching
My So-Called Life
next to a box of tissues…for the tears….
My So-Called Life
next to a box of tissues…for the tears….
“Spending $80 to have my hair cut and blow-dried at a salon? Fuck that. My awesome friend Steven Gherkins (stylist and local GOD) (you’ll meet him someday) does it for me for free on a lawn chair on Jillian’s fire escape. Only he can sculpt my perfectly asymmetrical mussed ’do (or, alternatively, WWII-inspired pompadour). I repay him in cigarettes and Jim Beam.”
—Donald G., 28, art assistant at a modeling agency
(Authors’ note: Hipster girls let their split-end’ed hair grow to their waist. Their bangs they trim at home with rusty scissors over the bathroom sink.)
MISSED CONNECTION: You were wearing Axe body spray - w4m (Lower East Side)
Date: 2010-08-07, 6:59PM EDTReply To This PostOh, my. What is that undeniably sexy smell? All of a sudden I have the intense urge to tear off all of my clothes and rub myself all over you, dude in the black button-up shirt who has indulged in copious amounts of hair gel. I can hardly tell that you purchased your fragrance of choice at the local Rite Aid, most likely along with a sixer of Bud and yet another economy-sized box of condoms (it’s sad when those suckers expire, isn’t it, dude?). My nose is not at all burning with the slightly acrid scent emanating from your furred chest—and it’s kind of awesome that I can smell you all the way over on the other side of this subway car, where I am currently huddled, sneezing. And the fact that, even after I have exited this train, leaving you to wend your merry way to Midtown, your manufactured man musk will linger in my nasal cavity only makes me want you more. Still, I know it is not to be—your intense manliness is just too much for me. Until I can gather up the moxie to make you mine, I believe I will persist in pursuing soft, pale dudes who revel in the smell of their own rumpled bed. It’s probably better this way. Good luck breaking in those ’doms, man.• it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interestsPostingID: 1633299878
Now, let’s be clear—face paint, which sometimes sparkles, is acceptable. The Kevin Barnes look, while woefully outdated, is not an actual object of hatred in the hipster community (more a subject of apathy). However, body glitter and, more commonly, “body shimmer” (often found in powder or lotion form) are utterly abhorrent. The aesthetic that one sweats glitter, that one naturally possesses a metallic sheen, is, quite simply, stupid. Women are not Pussy Galore on her gold-plated deathbed. They aren’t Twilightian vampires, twinkling in the sunlight like human-shaped disco balls or those Elmer’s glue-based homemade ornaments. True, hipsters will gladly deck themselves out in various metals, plastics and other shiny baubles in the form of jewelry, headgear and bling. But their milky white skin is no home for specks of sparkle.
At its most basic level, right there in its DNA, glitter is viral, infecting one part of your body, spreading to your face and hands, and then replicating itself on unsuspecting bodies around you. It’s basically metallic herpes, and hipsters don’t need any more of
that
.
that
.
For starters, the proportion of hipsters with creative teeth spacing is higher than in the general population. (The same parents who name their son “Arthur” are a bit less likely to see braces as a necessity.) Further, hipsters are all, “I haven’t been to a dentist in, like, three years.” Why? Well, they’ve been too busy taking pictures of one another strumming on six-strings and strewing empty beer bottles strategically across their hardwood floors (you know, for effect). Also, it’s hard to pencil in that annual cleaning when you don’t have health insurance.
Other books
UNCONTROLLED BURN by Nina Pierce
The Butterfly Clues by Kate Ellison
Chasing After Infinity by L. Jayne
Davita's Harp by Chaim Potok
Done [Running to Love 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Allyson Young
The Eternity Cure by Julie Kagawa
A Rose Revealed by Gayle Roper
A Private Affair by Dara Girard
Cloaked in Danger by Jeannie Ruesch