The Philadelphia Hipster

Philadelphia hipsters are everywhere. They are a plague upon my fair city. Their sustenance consists solely of PBR from Bob and Barbara's and irony. They spend hundreds of dollars on their frayed and worn messenger bag. The obligatory messenger bag complements their retro track bike, which gets them around NoLibs or SoSo (not Midtown though. Hipsters hate Midtown). They spend hours picking out an outfit that reflects just how much they don't care what they look like, while at the same time demonstrating their disenfranchisement with main stream culture. They don skinny jeans and skinny tees and get their hair cut from their friend Kristy who used to go to cosmetology school but had to drop out because the teachers and their rules were destroying her creativity. "It was soooo beat, man. I'm not a robot. I've got to experiment. It's my passion." They say things like, "What, you don't spin your own vinyl?" They believe that they are the only people on earth who truly understand and appreciate indie rock. Their favorite band at any given moment is a group of whiny guys in skinny jeans who they describe as "totally intense." Should you or I happen to know and/or like their favorite band, then that band is immediately dismissed as "so yesterday" and/or "sell outs."

Hipsters have great disdain for non-hipsters. This pisses me off. Listen mother fuckers - I've been wearing Chuck Taylor's since I was in second grade. I remember when they weren't cool and you could buy them for $20.00 a pair. Now I'm paying $50.00 for a pair of low-tops because you assholes decided that they are rad. That's the true difference between a hipster and a non-hipster. Non-hipster's do things because they like or want to do them. Hipsters do things because after conferring with their other hipster friends, a general consensus has been reached that it would be "deck."

And while we're at it, some of us can't live our lives looking like we just rolled out of bed in the morning. Some of us have jobs that don't entail being a barista at Starbucks. Some of us have to wear collared shirts and pants that need to be ironed. That doesn't make me a sell out. You, hipsters, are the ultimate sell outs. Your clothes and your hair and your beard and your stretched ear lobes do not make up for a total lack of personality or individuality. Contrary to popular hipster belief, really cool leggings do not compensate for the fact that you have no sense of humor.