before i lose my style

katherinestasaph:

flourish:

Here’s how I know that even though I like to pretend I’ve grown out of hipsterdom, I really haven’t:

1. I was in Brooklyn last month and wandered through Williamsburg. I thought, so that’s where everybody I knew at Reed moved to. Man, they all look like total idiots.
2. When we were at the Williamsburg subway stop, my boyfriend said with absolutely no irony, “Williamsburg is clearly not the place for hipsters anymore. Listen to that bearded dude playing folk music.” When I asked him what the dude in the subway was playing when he lived in Brooklyn in 2001, he said, “something way cooler: violin to a backup track of chiptunes.”
3. Upon reading about Summer Commune, I thought, oh, Moscow, where that French translator who played cello in an indie band that I hooked up with all thru the summer of 2006 was from. Wasn’t it supposed to be the next Portland back then?
   
4. An ex-boyfriend was the opening joke of Portlandia. (Trek in the Park’s Spock.)
5. Asymmetrical haircut.
6. Went to a reading at Lorem Ipsum (for my guy, Amaranth Borsuk, & Christian Bök). Amaranth: This place makes me feel old and un-hip. Me (thinking): This place makes me feel super hip because it is exactly like Portland six years ago and I’m sooooo over that.

Which is all to say: it is impossible to be an ex-hipster, because the thoughts you have after you leave stereotypical hipsterdom are in fact the most hipsterish thoughts you will ever have.