Apr 14, 2010

Two-Thousand-and-LATE or "how I tried to hate-on a self-loathing trend"

I have a theory about this whole "Hipster" thing: So - none of us want to carry the label, but we all want to look good and feel comfortable - align ourselves with new creativity and whatever smacks of change or potential and unexpected brilliance. But why the negativity? The self-loathing shirking of identity embracing the ideal of the changeling (even if merely just standing close to the ideal could pass for "embracing") but we have failed to see that "The hipster represents the end of Western civilization – a culture so detached and disconnected that it has stopped giving birth to anything new. " (Haddow) Maybe we fear death? Every generation has their own iconic way of dealing with their mortality, is this how we choose to deal? By refusing to deal? I mean, it isn't like we are the first people to discover irony. Maybe it has more to do with being told as children "you are unique" and "you can accomplish whatever you set your mind to" - I mean, maybe we don't want to be unique or work hard, or maybe we tried and discovered it wasn't true and just aren't taking it very well.

Whatever the case may be, I've decided to be the first self-proclaimed hipster. So deal with THAT world! (Momentarily feeling a sense of rebellion and independence as I realize that I just proclaimed this to the readers of my BLOG on the INTERNET where I post things that I think are COOL, and realizing the truth of it with a sigh...) The only difference is that I am not going to hate myself for it, or anyone else who wears skinny jeans and tries to bring back some ridiculous, forgotten, (and for good reason) trend.

Here are some more excerpts from "Hipster: The Dead End of Western Civilization", the article that incited this post...

"Are you a hipster?"

"Fuck no," she says, laughing...

[A]fter punk was plasticized and hip hop lost its impetus for social change, all of the formerly dominant streams of "counter-culture" have merged together. Now, one mutating, trans-Atlantic melting pot of styles, tastes and behavior has come to define the generally indefinable idea of the "Hipster."

An artificial appropriation of different styles from different eras, the hipster represents the end of Western civilization – a culture lost in the superficiality of its past and unable to create any new meaning. Not only is it unsustainable, it is suicidal.


This cursory and stylized lifestyle has made the hipster almost universally loathed.

Punks wear their tattered threads and studded leather jackets with honor, priding themselves on their innovative and cheap methods of self-expression and rebellion. B-boys and b-girls announce themselves to anyone within earshot with baggy gear and boomboxes. But it is rare, if not impossible, to find an individual who will proclaim themself a proud hipster. It’s an odd dance of self-identity – adamantly denying your existence while wearing clearly defined symbols that proclaims it.


The dance floor at a hipster party looks like it should be surrounded by quotation marks. While punk, disco and hip hop all had immersive, intimate and energetic dance styles that liberated the dancer from his/her mental states – be it the head-spinning b-boy or violent thrashings of a live punk show – the hipster has more of a joke dance. A faux shrug shuffle that mocks the very idea of dancing or, at its best, illustrates a non-committal fear of expression typified in a weird twitch/ironic twist. The dancers are too self-aware to let themselves feel any form of liberation; they shuffle along, shrugging themselves into oblivion.


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