Open Letter: Hipsters

Dear Hipsters,

I used to be really fond of you guys. I thought your love of vinyl records was pretty cool. When you brought back wayfarers I shouted with joy. I appreciated your efforts to inform others about the importance of recycling. I adored that you rocked Chucks, my footwear of choice.

Then, somewhere along the way, you became annoying. We’re not talking about the kind of annoying where I can count to ten and go to my happy place. It’s not the type of annoying where you go for a short walk and all is forgotten. I’m talking about the kind of annoying that makes a person want to punch unicorns in the face.

You went beyond simply expressing who you are, and have become contrarians whose main objective is to make the rest of us feel badly for not conforming to your nonconformity. Oh yes, I know. Your kaleidoscope of hair colors, members only jackets and “I brake for vegetables” stickers are pretty cool, but it doesn’t mean the rest of us have to subscribe to it. I’m going to have to see your superiority complex, and raise you a large dose of reality.

You must stop wearing skinny jeans if you are a man. Please. Stop. This is especially loathsome if they are in an obnoxious color like aqua, red, or yellow. You’re a grown man, not a 5-year-old girl whose parents recently started letting her dress herself.  Pairing them with a trucker hat, porn mustache, or tank top only makes you look like someone who recently lost a bet. It’s a pretty safe assumption that a man with sizeable muscles (love or otherwise) would not be able to wear these kinds of pants.

There is absolutely no need to whip out your DSLR camera, iPhone, iPad, Flip Video or any other hipster must-have device and share, via multiple social networking sites, what’s happening at EVERY EXACT MOMENT. You know who does that? Tourists. Nobody cares that you just heard the first song you ever menstruated to, or that you’ve “checked in” at your dentist’s office. You don’t need to publicize that you’ve just downed a glass of Pabst Blue Ribbon, or some equally unsavory beer. You don’t need to talk about the all-natural, locally grown, completely sustainable apple you just devoured in front of your composting bin. Yes, you’re all rock stars, but only in your own minds.

To all of the feminist hipsters, stop getting your panties in a twist about things that really aren’t that important. This is not “Saved by the Bell”, and you are not Jessie Spano. A real feminist donates her time and energy to causes like sex trafficking, genital mutilation or equal pay for men and women in the workplace. You guys (oh, that’s probably offensive) have decided to undertake the dark and sinister world of men reinforcing gender stereotypes by pulling out chairs for women. I’ve heard there is an amazing cure for this condition. It’s called a bar of chocolate and some Midol.

Going through a Rivers Cuomo phase was sort of awesome when Weezer was still making palatable music, but looking “just like Buddy Holly” doesn’t have the same appeal it did, oh, 17 years ago. This trend is especially ridiculous if your vision is 20/20, or worse, if there aren’t any lenses in the frames. It doesn’t make you look smart, or even ironic; it makes you look like someone who wasted $10 at Old Navy.

Oh, I know, you have such refined taste in music. You’ve come to the conclusion that the reason the bands you love so much don’t get signed is because the masses can’t comprehend such beautiful obscurity. It couldn’t possibly be because these musical groups, whose lead singers usually look like a cross between a “Newsies” extra and Huckleberry Finn, sound like drugged alpacas which have somehow gotten a hold of synth keyboards.

Why are you so upset that some of us drink Starbucks coffee, or shop at stores like Target? I’m all for helping out mom and pop businesses, but sometimes a girl needs to quickly pick up tire cleaner, underwear and some dishes. I can’t do that at “Pandora’s Emporium of Vegan Cheeses and Hemp Necklaces” so I choose a mass retailer where I can do my one-stop shopping. Yeah, it’s soconsumerist of me. Isn’t this sort of hypocritical considering every single one of you worships at the altar of Steve Jobs? The last I heard, Apple was sort of a big company.

I totally get that living in “The City” is the be-all and end-all for some of you, but that doesn’t mean it is for the rest of us. The way I see it, you’ve got more crime, a higher cost of living, and dive bars which are typically filled with people who smell like patchouli and Parliament Lights. I’m not asking you to give up on your life by wearing sweater sets and driving minivans like the desperate housewives do out here, but just to realize that there are people who don’t enjoy late night food cart binges and last minute dance parties (usually with an 80’s or pirate theme) as much as you do.

I’m sure some of you are sitting there sipping on your Kombucha while listening to Belle & Sebastian and thinking, “She is totally criticizing our uber-hip culture.” Well, you’re wrong. Your culture is not uber-hip.

I also realize that some of you won’t even know this is about you, and that’s okay. It takes a long time for everyone to confront the darkest parts of themselves, and there’s nothing darker than being a hipster.

I have high hopes for all of you. I know one day you’ll come down from those high horses you’ve been perched upon, and come to your senses. You’ll take off the glasses, pour yourself a glass of Blue Moon, and listen to some Led Zeppelin. Until then, I’ll just be here, punching unicorns in the face.

Sincerely,

The Tonic