Prattle on
Thursday, November 10, 2005
 
So, I am about to make a bold statement. The hipster is dead. I fear the hipster has become too homogeneous to actually be the cutting edge. I ponder this in the open letter below.

Dear Current Hipster,

I know you think you are ever changing, placing yourselves on the edge of the trend constantly refreshing, transforming, renewing. I know in your minds you are resetting the scene. You are the ultimate of what is cool.

Hipster, you took over the 70’s slacker esthetic and refined it to its current state. And for that, I thank you. Boys have mended the holes in the brown sweaters and women are now embracing an image that I can only describe as ‘Velma revisited’. Everyone’s hair is a mess, but thankfully, you all keep it under a touque even while smoking ten thousand cigarettes in a hot crowded bar. The finest part of the uniform is the thick-rimmed glasses. Positively EVERYONE, and I do mean everyone, is wearing them. I didn’t realize, that an entire generation had such bad eyes.

In your desperate collective attempt to reject the mainstream you clamour for the newest music and imitate whichever burgeoning talent best describes the total love you have for the guy living on the third floor of your McGill residence. I know that Joanna Newsome now enjoys fabulous popularity among the 20 year-old-university-girl demographic (I have to say this is reminiscent of the fame Sarah McLachlan had, until we all came to our senses and finally sold Fumbling Toward Ecstasy and Surfacing to any used CD store who would pay 25 cents for it). Yes, Newsome has some success, hell, I even like that ‘Peach, Plum, Pear’ song. However, this does NOT mean the harp is a viable musical instrument for a rock band. Concordia music students frequenting St. Laurent bars from Maisonneuve to Laurier are now putting a harp on stage and attempting to sing in voices that sound a little too close to Lisa Simpson’s. Come on now, please stop it.

Don’t get me wrong, hipster, please don’t stop being your collective selves. On some level, we are all clones of each other. Everyone has their scene and every scene has its common esthetic. But, you seem to have brought homogeneity to a whole new level. You all look exactly the same. Goths do different things with their hair. The Gap set buys jeans with different cuts. Even black club girls (also knows as BET girls) have different coloured weaves. Why be so indistinguishable?

Sincerely,
Debbie
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