Hipster self-loathing delivered me to a book, HIP: THE HISTORY, which I started reading last year.
I am a reluctant hipster. Just as I am a reluctant human, black man, responsible adult, etc. No one ever asked me to be any of those things when the doctors yanked me from my mother’s stomach. They were forced on me. I’d like to think that I was born to be hip, but I was a dweeb for most of my younger years. Now I look around and what’s hip ain’t so hip to me. It’s as corny as shit and it reeks of little effort or too much effort. Either way, it’s confusing as hell.
My problem is this: Hip is not shopping at H&M. Nor is it liking only indie bands and ’80s revival rap. And yet hip can be found in those places. I meet far too many people for whom hip is a facade, easily cast aside.
I saw this book and started reading it. That may not be hip, but I think hip is knowing where you came from. I threw out my skinny jeans the other day. Still don’t own a pair of those florescent Nikes. If Hip is the shuffle between conforming and anti-conformity and so many people appear to be hip, I wanna rebel.
2 responses so far ↓
MSem // June 25, 2008 at 8:28 pm
Sounds like an interesting book. One can tie oneself in knots playing the hip game, spending hours every morning trying to look like you just rolled out of bed and didn’t give a shit what you looked like. I think you’re onto something when you say hip is knowing who you are and where you come from…but if who you are likes your skinny jeans, why throw them out?
pierrehamilton // June 25, 2008 at 8:41 pm
My girl made me buy them. They really are too tight and I have muscular legs, so…