I HATE HIPSTERS

I think the title says it all, but I want to reiterate: I HATE HIPSTERS.

Scene: Salon-themed hipster bar next to a "Nathan's Original Hot Dogs".

I can't even begin to describe the parade of individuals I witnessed. I, of course, roll in wearing the ubiquitous "i'mgoingoutandgoingtohaveawildnight!!" black dress. Upon entering the bar, I immediately realize that perhaps I should have done one of several things: a) not blown dry my hair..instead, let my hair embrace its more lion-mane quality, b) worn my jumper, and perhaps, a skull & bone button up shirt, c) gotten a modified bob, and worn my glasses or d) shaved my head, and come in with overalls, stiletto heels and a page-boy cap. To say I looked out of place was probably an understatement.

To me, hipster used to mean "counter-culture". In fact, back home in New Orleans I used to consider myself a hipster because I wasn't a debutante, I wore glasses, I wrote my own plays as a child, and on weekends I used to work the front desk at my parents guest house. All of these things were counter to the normal culture of children and teenagers in New Orleans, so therefore, I was a hipster. Once I moved to New York, I realized, my definition of hipster was vastly different from the one I had conceived of since childhood. In New York, all the hipsters were counter-culture in the same exact way: guys who dress like British School Boys, too much eye-liner, tight t-shirts and vests -- girls who wear skull outfits, suspenders, adidas soccer cleats and one earring. I can't understand how these people don't realize the hipocracy of their existence. Oooohhh..you wear vests..let me tell you something: if everyone wears vests just like you, you are as mainstream as the girls with polos and longchamps that you probably hate on unmercilessly.

I want to re-define the term hipster. I think hipsters are people who work obscene hours, live in crackdens, just want to survive, and just do things that make them happy, even if that includes just staying in and reading instead of going to a bar that masquerades itself as a "former massage spa" or "former salon" . To me, THESE people are the true hipsters. Show me a slightly out-of shape accountant who is picking up his take out thai food to go home and watch the discovery channel on a thurs night, and I will show you a hipster.

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this entry....if I don't end it now, I may start going on a rant about my normal topics of rage: florida, my job, the new york city dating scene, and homeless people who proposition me.

And with that, I leave you.