Stuff Hipsters Hate (8 page)
Read Stuff Hipsters Hate Online
Authors: Brenna Ehrlich,Andrea Bartz
It would be a fallacy to say that a hipster “would never” wear a given article of clothing—mostly because after a requisite amount of time has passed, the article of clothing in question becomes “vintage” and thereby OK to don ironically. In fact, hipsters often delve into the past in order to construct future trends, so flea markets and their parents’ closets are prime hunting grounds for hipster apparel.
9
[See
Figure 6
.] (NB: While scenesters
10
occasionally indulge in the faux-vintage styles of Urban Outfitters and American Apparel,
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hipsters turn up their bespectacled noses at such lemming-esque behavior.) The secondhand shopping tactic serves dual purposes:
9
[See
Figure 6
.] (NB: While scenesters
10
occasionally indulge in the faux-vintage styles of Urban Outfitters and American Apparel,
11
hipsters turn up their bespectacled noses at such lemming-esque behavior.) The secondhand shopping tactic serves dual purposes:
1
. It ensures that no one else will have the same kitten-emblazoned T-shirt, fuchsia balloon dress or Egyptian-printed muumuu as the hipster shopper in question, because said article of clothing has been discontinued for 20 years, and…2. It satisfies the hipster’s urge to always look to the past in search of those glorious “better times” when life was purer and people smoked pot in public and stuff.
Therefore, although modern hipsters would sooner get into a serious relationship with a law student than wear anything designed by Ed Hardy, in five years or so, bedazzled muscle shirts airbrushed with tigers and vipers could be all the rage. God help us all.
Be on the lookout for these signature pieces:
Figure 6
: Observations of the Authors with Regard to the Average Hipster Girl/Boy
: Observations of the Authors with Regard to the Average Hipster Girl/Boy
Headwear:
Fedora
Fedora
Era:
Late 1800s
Original Wearer:
Middle-class men
Modern-Day Connotation:
Used by hipster boys to look “fancy,” dapper and gentlemanly—even when one is also wearing paint-encrusted jeans that haven’t been washed since the early 1990s.
Top:
Vintage B-movie T-shirt under a plaid shirt
Vintage B-movie T-shirt under a plaid shirt
Era:
B-movieT-’70s; plaid shirt - see page 63, you lazy fucker.Original Wearer:
B-movieT-Nerds; plaid shirt - we repeat the above sentiment.Modern-Day Connotation:
By wearing a B-movie shirt from another era (preferably a top that features a cyberpunk flick) one announces to the world that one is “quirky” and “nerdy,” but in a totally cool way. It remains to be seen whether or not the hipster has actually seen the movie he/she is plugging on his/her torso. As for the plaid shirt, Jesus, have you seriously already forgotten the fucking chart?
Bottom:
Skinny jeans and white Keds
Skinny jeans and white Keds
Era:
Skinny jeans - Punk/’50s, à la Grease; Keds - First produced in 1917, Keds were the first sneakers, a word coined to describe how people can “sneak up” on others whilst wearing them (now good for sneaking out the back stairs after a poorly thought-out hook-up).Original Wearer:
Skinny Jeans - Apparently, hipsters stole skinny jeans from the punks, who stole them from ’50s rebels, who probably stole them from the local department store; Keds - During our lifetime, they became the preferred footwear of children and that super evangelical Christian girl who wore pleated khakis and wrote Psalms on the chalkboard when you were in high school.
Modern-Day Connotation:
Bad boy/girl on top, conservative schoolgirl/boy below. Oh, how hipsters love irony.
Bros take great joy in transitioning into their going-out clothes—pulling off the ol’ polo shirt and cargo shorts, rolling the sleeves of their button-up, looping a smooth leather belt over their khakis, perfecting the collar poppage. Likewise, Trixies can make a whole evening out of ditching the gladiator sandals and pulling on short dresses and heels. (That’s actually all they do. They do not accessorize. We cannot figure out why getting ready takes them so fucking long.)
Hipsters, on the other hand, have no real definition of “appropriate attire.” For the ladies, white ankle boots that look like ice skates minus the blades plus a vintage sequined mini-dress? A-OK for sitting in the corner of Brooklyn Label, sipping coffee and nursing a hang-yourself-over. A hideous purple sports jersey that looks like it was ripped from the back of a disadvantaged seventh-grader, plus baggy boyfriend jeans and moccasins from your sophomore year of high school? Perfectly acceptable for a night on the town. And hipster dudes basically sleep in whatever the fuck they wore the day before.
Why the uber-easy day-to-evening transition? The explanation is head-smackingly simple: Due to the complete lack of a real job, a regular feeding schedule and a watch that actually tells time, at any given hour, hipsters have no fucking clue what time it is.
Low-Rise Jeans:
Crack is wack. Unless it’s, like, a little baggie Xander brought back from his trip to Tijuana.
Crack is wack. Unless it’s, like, a little baggie Xander brought back from his trip to Tijuana.
Going-Out Top:
You look like you’re wearing the tragic results of setting an eight-year-old girl loose with half of the trimmings aisle at Jo-Ann Fabrics, some satin, and an inexhaustible glue gun.
You look like you’re wearing the tragic results of setting an eight-year-old girl loose with half of the trimmings aisle at Jo-Ann Fabrics, some satin, and an inexhaustible glue gun.
UGGs:
If you’re going to swaddle your feet in sheep carcasses, at least participate in a ritual sacrifice.
If you’re going to swaddle your feet in sheep carcasses, at least participate in a ritual sacrifice.
North Face Jacket:
Somewhere out there in the snowy abyss, there is most definitely a factory run by the Masters of the Panhellenic Universe that churns out identically corn-fed boys and girls, swaddled in moisture-wicking polar fleeces that cost more than a week’s worth of booze.
Somewhere out there in the snowy abyss, there is most definitely a factory run by the Masters of the Panhellenic Universe that churns out identically corn-fed boys and girls, swaddled in moisture-wicking polar fleeces that cost more than a week’s worth of booze.
Labeled Designer Clothing:
I’m sure you chose it because the LV tessellation makes such a pretty pattern, not because it demonstrates to the world that you use Daddy’s credit card for necessities outside newsstand
Glamour
s and yacht club membership dues.
I’m sure you chose it because the LV tessellation makes such a pretty pattern, not because it demonstrates to the world that you use Daddy’s credit card for necessities outside newsstand
Glamour
s and yacht club membership dues.
“I’m not really down with any activity that prevents me from wearing a shitload of necklaces, a scarf, a vest and, perhaps, a hat of some sort. So any real form of athletic activity is out, as is actually swimming (rather than running about in the sand), going through airport metal detectors and attending formal functions where elderly family members are present.
I mean, I can dress down sometimes. For example, I’m totally relaxing in bed right now in my underwear. And a necklace. And a cat mask I made out of papier mâché.”
—Minerva A., 22, model and book shelver
It’s extremely rare to encounter a hipster girl in heels—granny boots, yes, stilettos, a resounding, “Hell, no!” Why? Heels imply that you care how you look in a manner that is wholly unacceptable. They epitomize a misogynistic culture that forces women to teeter about like newborn horses—buttocks perky, calves straining and shapely—vying for the attention of a potential mate, a man who will undoubtedly transform said woman into a beaming Stepford Wife. Plus, it’s much easier to scale that fence down by the docks and embark on a magical adventure in an abandoned boarded-up factory when you’re wearing Vans.
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