Tuesday, March 19, 2013

The First Step To Solving A Hipster Problem Is Admitting You Have One



What defines a hipster?

I see what I believe to be hipsters all around me, all the time. They're usually wearing wrinkled plaid or some shirt they picked up from Hot Topic (that's meant to look like it's been picked up from a thrift shop) and some ill-fitting skinny jeans or a pair of olive green corduroys.

They're hair is impeccably styled to look as though it hasn't been styled at all, their non-functioning glasses are usually huge and reminiscent of Malcolm X's, and they're often wearing a pair of Converse that's been intricately laced to give the appearance of nonchalant lacing.

But until now, I've been deceiving myself about hipsterism. It's not about the clothes. It's about the attitude.

A hipster, by all accounts, is a derogatory term. Even people who fit every definition of the word would never define themselves that way. Because labeling yourself as some demographic is too conforming, and hipsters are far too cool to place themselves as a part of one type of social group.

And that's what I believe makes a hipster. A person doesn't like or dislike things based on taste, a person likes or dislikes things based on the tastes of others. Remember when Modest Mouse was a little more modest? Yes, those were the days when a hipster would admit to loving the music. But then the band got a little more popular, so, logically, the hipster crowd became disinterested. And now, as Modest Mouse returns to its obscure home from whence it came, I'd say hipsters are free to love them once again.

I don't even know why I went on that Modest Mouse tirade. I don't know if I could identify one of their songs if it was blasting in my face while one of the band members continually beat me with baseball bat inscribed with the words: "This Song Is By Modest Mouse."

But I'm sure you get what I'm saying. But here's the sad and scary realization I had the other day: I think I might be a hipster.

I was doing research for the Fabutrash Film of the Week and the Podcast Pick for April and it suddenly occurred to me that I was purposefully avoiding films and podcasts of fame and notoriety. I tried to convince myself that I was only doing so in order to bring lesser-known titles to the masses.

But I had to admit to myself, and now the world, that I get a joy out of loving things that most people don't. I am such a fan of grindhouse cinema and pulp films--especially when I'm the only one who's heard of them.

And give me an obscure book to read. I'll read the hell out of it and then be fein joylessness when I say, "Well, you probably haven't read it."

And the things I secretly love are the things that other people love openly. I'm notorious for hating Harry Potter, but secretly, I could watch those movies all day. And I was so into the books, I actually read them while driving.

Yes. I was so into the wizarding world of Harry Potter that I literally put my life, along with dozens of others, at risk. But until now, I'd be hard pressed to admit such an atrocity.

I feel like I'm at hipster's anonymous meeting right now.

Hello my name is Matty, and I was admitting I was a hipster before admitting being a hipster was cool.

But you know what? I think I'm justified because there's one thing out there that I've never lied about loving, no matter how mainstream it is: Lady Gaga. I admit that I liked her after she was cool. I proudly sport my "Fame" tattoo. I openly call myself a Little Monster.

So while this article may seem pointless to you, to me it's a piece of solidarity. Although I'm a hipster in every other aspect of my life, there's a part of me that's still human because I'm willing to admit that I am into something as mainstream as Lady Gaga.

I'm rating myself one out of five Trashes for my love of loving obscure things.

But you know what? I'm also rating myself five out of five Fabs for loving one of the most wonderful things that can be loved.




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