Lola’s back bitches!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
And better than ever.
To preface this, I should remind you all of one thing that you may not have known, but definitely should:
/smirk.
OK. So, Lola just drank a bottle of pinot [on a work night! *gasp*], and so she is feeling a bit saucy and self-assured. But I assure you, my dear hipster readers. It is with good reason.
You see, I recently got an invitation to blog with my very favorite blog in the world. In fact, it is the blog who’s link love in the first week of this whole blogging endeavor made me stop and think, “Whaaa… people actually read this??”
So yes, I am now going to be posting over at your one stop shop for the most hipsterlicious shit on the web:
And there you have it! A blogging career based on observing hipsters in their natural habitat and slowly becoming indoctrinated by the tribe, all the whilst fighting corporate corruption and giving into it at the same time, maintaining my hipster image to blend in while doing what I can to resist full conversion—it’s all led me here.
So check me out.
Here’s my first post, which is the video that makes me happy every single time I watch it, which is pretty much daily… sometimes multiple times a day if it’s “one of those days.”
Enjoy!
<3
Lola
[Hipster scouting: The Interweb]
Thursday, November 27, 2008
If you are a blogger, you know the addictive fun that the administrative view of a site can bring. So, in light of the fact that I haven’t posted for over a month and my stats are still holding strong, I decided to post this list of amazing search terms I have been collecting since the inception of this blog just for you, devoted hipster readers.
For those unfamiliar with the art of blogging, these are the terms people have typed into Google or other search engines that landed them at my blog, accidentally or on-purpose…
My hipster dilemma – part 3
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Things are starting to get weird. I’ve been waking up at 8:30 to be at work at 10 am every week day — an oddity since my natural waking time is between the hours of 2 and 4 pm — working all day every Saturday and Sunday nights. Well, OK. I usually wake up at 9:30 and get to my day job at 10:30, but nobody cares… hopefully. AND, I can wear whatever the hell I want (read: NOT corporate attire).
This workforce regularity seems to suggest I am falling away from hipsterdom. If one were to examine this piece of evidence alone, it would be reasonable to predict that, within the month, I will be going to the opera and learning to cook. However, an expert researcher and blogumentary maker such as myself always looks at the larger picture, which is best illustrated by this g-talk conversation between my good friend Howard Duesterberg and myself..
[Where’s Lola?]
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Greetings hipster readers!
By now, many of you may have been wondering where I am. You don’t have to write furious comments demanding my immediate blogging — I know how much I am missed.
Anyway, I have a pretty good excuse for slacking on the posting that doesn’t involve me falling into a vicious cycle of feeling increased pressure to be productive, getting anxious, letting my ADD drive me into a state of torpid procrastination thereby enhancing the pressure and worsening the cycle. Yes, it’s a much better explanation than that.
I got a job!
Not just any job, either: Pretty much my dream job. I’m working for the online section of my favorite publication managing a syndication of blogs that is the largest of its nature in the world. The company is relatively new and innovative and has the potential to drive social change in the most important of ways, so I am really happy to be there.
I know what you are thinking: “What could be more important than blogumenting about hipsters?!?!” Shh, I know. I agree with you that what I do here is important, and writing this blog makes me happy for the most part. That is why I will continue to post! It may not be as frequent as it used to be, but I should still have some free time… hopefully. You may have thought I was going to crap out. I even considered it, to keep from getting overwhelmed, but, nah. Quitting is for smokers — who are ready. And I am just not ready to quit. Shut up, mom.
So, bare with me and continue to enjoy my hipsterlicious prose!
#19) Thinking about the economy
Friday, September 26, 2008
By now, most Americans have at least some inkling that the United States is in the midst of a grave economic crisis. But after scouring Bedford Avenue and interviewing various individuals who seemed to be outwardly “hip,” I have come to the conclusion that hipsters do not have the slightest clue about anything relating to the economy, possibly less so than the average American (see graph).
In order to help hipsters understand what is going on with major Wall Street financial institutions and the American economy, I have devised a simple analogy to outline the situation in terms hipsters can understand.
Let us pretend that the major players involved in the crisis are the members of the traditional hipster family, in which we have:
- Daddy Warbucks, the successful businessman with several overseas bank accounts (the American Government)
- The two beloved children, we’ll call them Fannie and Freddy (The Federal National Mortgage Association and the Federal Home Loan Mortgage Corporation)
- The second wife (the American economy)
- The coke-head hipster stepchild (recipients of the $700 billion bailout plan)
- The hipster’s drug dealer (foreign investors)
[Hipster scouting: The American Apparel factory]
Monday, September 22, 2008
Such as it is the common child’s goal to become an “astronaut” or “teacher” when they grow up, it is every hipster’s dream to work at the American Apparel factory. In this fantasy, they have access to all the hand-crafted onsies and leggings they could ever want and have regularly scheduled orgies after lunch, which consists of empanadas and Colt-45. But they may want to go back to the drawing board as there is one aspect of the job they have likely overlooked — namely that all AA factory workers risk losing fingers and other extremities to the sewing machine after being startled by CEO Dov Charney rampaging through the factory in a new underwear product and Hooters tank top.
Also, judging from that one guy’s medical-grade mask, the workers risk contracting SARS as well. And to throw one more bowling ball upon your shattered hipster dream, from this video it is apparent that 97.5 percent of the workers in the American Apparel factory are neither American nor do they wear any sort of stylish apparel (although one could easily smuggle out dozens of onsies and leggings at a time under those jumpers). It’s a good thing hipsters routinely get 12 hours of alcohol-induced sleep per night; they’ve got some dreaming to do.
_______________________________________________________
Video referred by Howard Duesterberg for Stuff Hipsters Don’t Like ©2008
[New contributor: Howard Duesterberg]
Saturday, September 20, 2008
It is my great pleasure to introduce a new literary contributor to SHDL, Howard Duesterberg.
Howard hails from Silverlake, Los Angeles, an area known for its dive bars, palm trees, shady motels and rampant population of Cal arts graduates. He was an early inspiration for this site, and rose to prominence after having his picture posted on The Cobrasnake.
Keep an eye out for Howard’s posts, which will surely be ripe with perceptive hipster commentary!
___________________________________________________
Picture of Howard by The Cobrasnake.
[Hipster scouting: Bushwick apartment shopping]
Friday, September 19, 2008
#17) Being forced to move to Bushwick
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Although I do not identify with being a full-blown hipster, I openly admit that I have some hipster traits (call me a hipster chimera if you will). One trait that I currently share with the non-trustfunded hipster (which is a much more elusive breed than its well-off counterpart) is the state of being really effing broke (moneyless!). This, coupled with my inability refusal to enter into the corporate jungle or serve others prepared food with a smile on my face (even though I am not happy to be there) presents quite a predicament.
So, with less than two weeks remaining before my sublease squatting arrangement is up, I have been grudgingly doing something that many-a-hipster has been forced to do over the past few years due to the powerful financial forces of yuppienization pushing the hip out of Williamsburg: I have been looking for an apartment in Bushwick.
[Hipster scouting: Card game chic]
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
#16) Looking directly at things
Sunday, September 14, 2008
The human eye is one of the most intriguing components of human physiology. Scientists have studied the organ for centuries, using its points of divergence from our animal relatives to map evolution on phylogenetic trees and debunk Creationist lines of thought evidenceless fantasy myths.
But even more interesting to researchers than the human eye is the hipster eye, which differs from the normal human eye in a variety of ways, some of which are light sensitivity, magnification and overall perception. In fact, sociologists and behavioral psychologists everywhere are rejoicing in light of new evidence suggesting that the hipster eye is, indeed, a mutant phenotype; for this is the evidence they have been searching for far and wide to explanation certain anomalous hipster behaviors. [Note: Those afflicted with this condition are said to have Hipster Eye Deficiency Syndrome (HEDS).]
One such behavior that has baffled researchers for years is the tendency of hipsters to avoid daylight at all costs. While this is typically attributed to hangover symptoms, HEDS explains data that previously did not make sense. In past research, when comparing the capacity of people to make it to work on time the day following a night of binge drinking, there was a large discrepancy between the population of Williamsburg and the population of Manhattan.
[BEHIND THE SCENES at the Mr and Miss Williamsburg Pageant]
Sunday, September 7, 2008
*****RECENTLY UPDATED*****
Click here to see my Picasa Web Album of pageant pics!
Well, it’s over. I lost, of course. Maybe this will be the blow to my confidence that inspires me to join a corporation and abandon all hipster aspects of my former self! Well, doubtful, but I am making the decision right now to retire from the pageantry world forever.
So, Thursday night, I got a g-talk message from Misha who was panicking because two of the 10 contestants had dropped out. She asked if I knew anyone who would be willing to step in, because well, the people who actually applied were not up to her hipster standards. I almost recruited one hip Williamsburger to help her out, but he dropped out Friday morning. Whatever, I tried.
Contestants were instructed to get to Supreme Trading at 6 for a run-through, but only three from the Miss side and two from the Mr showed up. Where were the others? “They’ll get here later. They have… stuff to take care of,” Misha sketchily replied. Someone made a joke about how they probably had jobs or something, but we immediately ruled out that possibility, it being Williamsburg and all.
Misha fielded our questions before we did a run through of how events would proceed. She also instructed us not to tell anyone from “the press” that the whole applicant process was rigged! Sorry, Misha. Welcome to the 21st Century where ordinary people and seasoned journalists alike can blow your cover in the blogoshpere! Also on the list of things not to talk about was the Colt 45 story (fabricated publicity stunt) and the fact that almost all of the contestants were Misha’s friends from college. The reason why Misha tapped me was because the folks over at FREEwilliamsburg feautred my blog and her pageant two posts away from each other. The only time I had spent with her was half an hour at Beacon’s Closet and an hour at a photo shoot for the NY Post (Note: Judging from their article on the pageant called “Sillyburg,” I think I need to make an addendum to thing hipsters don’t like #4) Being described by arrogant yuppies.)
[Hipster scouting: The Mr and Miss Williamsburg Pageant]
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Click here for the link to download the audio track!
I am live-blogging on-stage at this pageant where the hipsters are in full-force!! They are intently watching me as I type into my blogging machine, though they appear to be baffled by its high-tech interface. I think, looking at this crowd… this is what Union Pool must be like. I have never been there before but if it’s anything like this I will have unlimited blog fodder for life! In fact, there are so many of them here that it reminds me of my first time at McCarren Park.
MR AND MISS WILLIAMSBURG PAGEANT- Yeah… I’m competing
Thursday, September 4, 2008
I’m pretty sure I have alluded to this in the past in my interview with Misha Calvert and in the previous entry, but the time has come to definitively announce that I, Lola Wakefield, will be a contestant in this Friday’s Mr and Miss Williamsburg pageant. This announcement may or may not have been expedited by the fact that the NY Post is outing my contestantness in today’s edition, but of course I wanted you, my dedicated readers, to hear it here from me first!
[Hipster Scouting: Beacon’s Closet]
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
The other day I did something that I will admit is one of my closet hipster likes — I went shopping at Beacon’s Closet (pretty much the hipster equivalent of Macy’s or Bloomingdale’s). OK, so it’s not very closeted after my last post, and it’s not just a like: it’s a borderline obsession.
It was during this 4 hour session of mindless self-indulgence that I realized something profound.
There is a saying that some people (usually over-the-hill relatives) like to use, most likely when attempting to relate to/console troubled teens: “We all put our pants on the same way — one leg at a time.” (“Sonny.”)
I was trying to find the perfect attire to wear to an event I will be attending on Friday (more to come on that later) and I went so far as to try on the red flag of hipsterdom: skinny jeans. Believe it or not, it was my first time attempting such a feat. I tried on maybe 10 pairs, wrenching and wrestling with them as their seams squeezed the life out of my ankles! I thought I had found a semi-acceptable pair, a black and white-vertically striped garment that made my ass look incredible, but fortunately I could not button the button for fear of my GI-tract. If I could have I probably would have been forced to buy them and then it would all be over.
It was then I realized: Hipsters do not put their pants on in any way remotely similar to other human beings. Hipster pants-wearing requires types of stretching, twisting, muscular lifting and jumping that average people only do when training for certain Olympic sporting events.
Sorry, Grandpa.
It was also during this shopping venture that I learned those calculator watches actually DO have a purpose and are not just worn to achieve the “nerdy chic” look: They are for hipsters to calcualte their totals at Beacon’s Closet! I spotted one poking furiously at one as he exited the dressing area! Who knew?
#15) Global warming
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Hipsters have inadvertently devised a method to stop the ravaging of resources from the planet, reduce fossil fuel emissions and conserve energy. But unfortunately for their credibility among hippie environmentalists, they typically have no idea they are being green! (Although it is possible that Al Gore and all the “green becoming stylish” ad campaigns have finally beat their way in to those advertising-averted skulls.)
[Hipster scouting: Rockaway Beach]
Monday, September 1, 2008
Typically when people engage in summer activities, they dress in a certain way that minimizes heat close to the body and allows for perspiration to occur. Wearing minimal clothing also allows the sun to have contact with the skin, causing a cascade of enzymatic reactions that doctors believe to cause beneficial effects on mood and skin-tone. Some common items of summer clothing include shorts — or the hipster variation, jorts — tank tops, and loose-fitting t-shirts. This is especially the case when the potential for swimming exists, as people do not typically enter water wearing tight, restrictive clothing. This of course excludes divers, who wear wetsuits. It is also customary to wear light colors during times of extended sun exposure, as dark colors absorb the suns rays and increase heat.
I myself was wearing a red bikini at Rockaway beach earlier this week, allowing for maximal heat deflection and sun exposure. As I was laying in the sand enjoying the scenery, I spotted something out of the ordinary: a dark figure approaching on the horizon…
[Stuff I Don’t Like: WordPress]
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Dear hipster lovers/haters/in-betweeners,
Over the next week, this site (that you love so much) is going under the knife! WordPress, the blogging platform that I’ve been using to deliver you cunning hipster commentary: so passé. I am tots over it. Massive reconstructive surgery will make it easier for me to work and for you to enjoy the site all-around. Posts might be sparse for the next few days while I work on this but once it’s all converted I will be more inclined than ever to bring you the latest from the Hipster Embassy AKA Bburg.
Stay cool,
(But not too cool because that would be super un-cool)
♥ Lola
Also, while drinking hard cider with my web designer yesterday and watching a crazed hydraulic excavator come inches from smashing passing cars (lol!), we made up this joke:
Q: How long does it take a hipster to get to McCarren Park?
#14) Dancing
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Every weeknight, clumps of hipsters set off to journey through the streets of Williamsburg. They have two goals and two goals only: find a dance party and get laid. To the untrained observer, such as a tagalong roommate who wants to know where the distant hipster is going all dressed up in the American Apparel dress she can only wear once seven times as an actual dress because it will shrink to 65% of its original size after the first wash, it would naturally follow that the reason for wanting to be in a locaiton where dancing occurs is to participate, as most humans find dancing to be an exhilarating and sometimes cathartic experience that often leads to a release of endorphins and occasionally sexual intercourse (hella endorphins!).
[My hipster dilemma – part 2]
Monday, August 25, 2008
I don’t know if this blogging venture is getting to me or what, but this weekend, I had the most hipster moment of my entire existence.
The afternoon sun deceptively boasted an atmosphere suitable for lounging around, but my best friend had to catch a plane to France and time was of the essence. It was noon when I left for The Lodge, and I knew I would have to hurry and chug those buy-one-get-one bloody Marys so she could leave for the airport by 1:30.
The hipster moment started when we realized it was 1:45 and did not yet have the check.
“Oh shit, I have to go. I haven’t even packed yet. We have to hurry!” my friend recognized. (Note: As you may know, hurrying is not something that hipsters are capable of.)
[Weekend update: Secret society hipsters?]
Sunday, August 24, 2008
It was my best friend’s going away party. She was leaving for France the following morning and her roommate threw her a bash so that hopefully she would still be drunk when she got on the plane. Over the course of the night, I sought the biggest hipsters I could spot and struck up conversations, discretely studying my subjects in the wild. I anticipated encountering some awkward pauses and music elitism galore, but I never expected I would end up shooing coke-head hipster secret society members out of my friend’s bathroom.
There were four of them; three were clad in identical skin-tight black jeans and an assortment of black and white shirts and black leather jackets, and the other one (I can only assume he was the leader) was sporting a plaid button-down. When I commented on one of the jackets, the SS hipster disclosed that he got it at Beacon’s Closet for $20! During introductions, SS Hipster #1 did not hesitate to inform me of his self-importance.
“Yeah, I’m in a secret society,” he said nonchalantly, tossing his bangs.
“That’s cool,” I said. “What’s the point of it?”
“Yeah…” he started, a faraway look in his eyes, “I can’t really talk about it. You know. It’s a secret society.”
“Oh yeah, whatever. It’s fine,” I replied. “I’ll probably be tapped soon anyway.”
Later on that night they invited me to join! “Ah, sorry, I’m already in two others.”
When the party started to wind down, my friend’s roommate left for the bar with his posse, leaving just a few us to proceed with drunken goodbyes. But then all of a sudden, the hipster secret society members were back and snorting coke in my friend’s room!
I don’t know what it is about secret society hipsters that makes them think it’s OK to be the last people at a party where they don’t know anyone where even the host is trying to leave, while they wait for their friend to “use the bathroom” for 15 minutes (I fear for her nasal cavity!) but like, that’s gotta be a party foul on some level. It’s cool though because I had the opportunity to take this photo and blow their cover! In the absence of my photographer, I had to revert to my tried and true hipster-photography method of inserting a plant into the pic.
__________________________________________________________
Photo by Lola Wakefield for Stuff Hipsters Don’t Like ©2008
Expert Photoshopping by Laine Stranahan for Stuff Hipsters Don’t Like ©2008
#13) Sports
Friday, August 22, 2008
So far in the Olympics, the American team is achieving victory over China on the overall ranks, taking 31 gold medals, 36 silvers and 35 bronze! Michael Phelps won eight gold medals! For the average American, delivery of this news would be met with emotions ranging from slight satisfaction to raging excitement, possibly prompting a high five or even a leaping chest bump.
But for the average hipster, common physiological responses upon processing this type of information are a steady elevation of one side of the upper lip and a narrowing of the eyes. This is not only because hipsters are disinterested by sports-related information and consider it a waste of mental space similar to the way that some politically-minded Americans feel after hearing celebrity gossip or watching reality television; hipsters shun all sports related things because they actually have an instinctual aversion. In fact, according to ground-breaking research, hipsters experience a knee-jerk reaction of loathing when the prospect of participating in sporting activities, viewing sports on television, or even wearing sports paraphernalia emerges. (Note: The only time hipsters will take on an interest in sports is when it has some kind of ironic quality. For example, hipsters from northwestern Ohio will wear “Cleveland Browns” sports garb and even occasionally attend an event only because the team is known for perpetually losing and also has several bars dedicated it.)
[Overheard on Bedford Avenue]
Friday, August 22, 2008
The solution to this catch-22 is almost impossible for the hipster mind to conjure
Hipsteress sales clerk to friend: I’m kind of depressed. I’ve just been wasting my time with people who suck and now I have all this work bullshit. So, I’m just gonna throw myself into that until I get everything figured out.
-Amacord clothing store
#12) Paying for things
Friday, August 22, 2008
Today a lanky hipster girl sauntered into my place of employment/bloggery. I was amused by her apparel – a kelly green button-up belted dress ironically paired with mucho-over-sized-hot-pink-framed sunglasses (which she, of course, did not remove despite her indoor location). But I became even more amused when she inserted her large sketch pad with some kind of design sketches (hopefully that won’t end up on the scrawny bods of future hipster generations) into the scanner, made a bunch of color copies (they are tots $1 each!), looked sketchily at me looking sketchily at her and inched her way to the door. I glared at her at her as she opened it, which I’m sure made her eyes widen to the size of saucers under those actual-saucer-sized eye protectants, and I thought she knew she was busted and would decide to pay for her scans. She skeptically walked back over toward the counter, but instead of completing her transaction, she just closed the lid that was left ajar and darted out of the room!
I mean, who does she think she is Misha Calvert? This is not a bodega and those were not bottles of Colt 45. I thought about calling her out, but whatever. I had just painted my nails and didn’t want to risk smudging should I have to grab her by her bony arm.
I am discontent with the hipster theft, but I also think that I am being credited for it in some kind of karmic redemption process: So far I have accumulated FIVE PAIRS OF OVERSIZED SUNGLASSES left behind by customers that I can wear to look inconspicuous when I am hipster scouting. The hipster world works in mysterious ways!
# 11) Misha Calvert… and pageants in general
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
I e-met this hipSTAR after our pet projects were featured 2 posts away from each other on FREEwilliamsburg.com, which I’m sure you all check daily, if not by having the page perpetually open and refreshing the screen every few minutes or so. After robbing a bodega and creating the Mr and Miss Williamsburg Pageant as retribution, Misha became an infamous icon in the hipster realm, attracting a stream of comments with such sentiments as “I hope your eggs fall out Misha,” “i hope you fall onto the L train tracks” and “lousy fucking bitch-cunt,” among others. But shrugging these comments off with skilled nonchalance, her pageant will prevail – and be attended by Gawker.
Mischa reached out to me through email and suggested that I participate in her pageant. I wrote her back, commended her for robbing the bodega (which started this whole escapade), and graciously agreed to participate. After that, we emailed each other back and forth so much that we automatically popped up on each others’ g-talk lists, and so the conversations began.
One day, Misha said, “I’d love to do an interview.” My narcissistic inclinations shining through, I asked when she wanted to interview me. Her narcissistic inclinations trumping mine tenfold, she explained that she was asking me to interview her.
In the midst of awkward confusion, Misha suggested that we “shake up the medium” and interview each other, and so this interview was born. Hopefully, it will satiate everyone’s narcissistic inclinations:
Lola: So Misha, judging from some of the comments on websites that featured your pageant, it appears that hipsters don’t like you. Do you generally find this to be true?
Misha: First of all, thank you for recognizing that I am not a hipster. Although by many accounts, that very denial would make me one.
Lola: This is correct
#10) Police ruining their dance parties
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Like a good “citizen journalist,” I’ve been keeping tabs on the aftermath of Saturday’s riot hipster pseudo-mob party thing.
Turns out, five people ended up being arrested for things like “resisting arrest” and “inciting a riot.” That’s interesting that when other people pull someone the other direction as he is being grabbed by a cop, it is the person being grabbed’s resistance! I think the NYPD should invest in some lessons in physics to provide cops along with their first-class police training. It is also amusing that playing good music and sprinkling water droplets are not only illegal, but considered things that are capable of inciting riots. I will be extremely careful now to only play Cold Play and Fall Out Boy at work, otherwise the customers may start chanting and smashing computers!
Also in addition to the first YouTube video that was posted by Froozalicious, there are now a few more videos online that you can see here and here.
One of them looks like it is of a cop trying to attack a camera while it was video taping him. I would like to request that all members of the NYPD immediately join the facebook group, “I AM DEAD TO THE 21st CENTURY WORKFORCE; and I smash machines.” Better not let them use your computer to do it though.
The vids are from the same people who brought you that footage of that guy getting punched off his bike by a cop. (lmao! Sorry, I’ll bet that hurt a lot and it’s pretty fucked up that that happened, but omfg it’s fun to watch.)
PANDAMONIUM – Bedford Avenue
Sunday, August 17, 2008
As I was closing up shop after a long day’s work sitting around on Bedford Ave at 10pm tonight, I was shocked to see something that I never thought I would ever see: Hipsters assembling! On their own accord – they weren’t even tricked by advertising gimmicks or indie bands!
At first I wasn’t quite sure what was going on. There were hundreds of hipsters in the street walking alongside cop cars with flashing lights. My initial thought was that it was a parade, and the helicopter flying overhead was lighting the way as a good Samaritan effort. Like the fun parades where the cop cars and firetrucks sound their sirens real loud right before the old men in Kiwanis come out driving little cars and beauty pageant queens and the Mayor ride by in convertibles.
Well, if it was one of those parades I would have peaced out. But naturally, because I saw an abundance of hipsters, I followed the commotion right to the center.
After traveling all the way from Union Square, the hipsters had come to a halt at Bedford Avenue. Led by “Panda-monium,” the group who -get this- routinely assembles at “The Change You Want to See” building on Havemeyer, protestors (and hipsters who like costumes, woo!) attempted to relcaim the streets for the purposes of the people who live and play there as opposed to profit-seeking companies encouraging consumption. Dozens of Williamsburgers decked out in Panda masks (one even had a fluffy white belly) were leading protest chants about Pandas and, later on, police brutality.
Aside from the pandas though, there were at least 200 other people assembled around Bedford and N. 6th. I’m not really sure what made them stop there: Was that their destination or did they just get distracted by all the bars and hipster activities? I’ve heard some rumors of a police blockade, but I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure the panda-hipster group decided that if there was going to be a showdown, the Bedford stretch, AKA the Hipster Embassy, was where it must be.
At first there were only a few cops actually standing in the street. They were telling people to get out of the street with the ol’ “we really want to stop you from assembling but can’t legitimately make you until back-up arrives, so for now just stop blocking traffic – also, I’m really a nice guy!” trick. One hipster was really fucking with him, to my amusement, first standing in front of cars trying to pass and then standing directly next to the officer pretending to join in chastising the other hipsters for dancing in the streets. He was pretty tolerant though… or outnumbered and waiting. Either/or.
Then back up arrived and they were really trying to make people get out of the street. Apparently, they didn’t get the Pandamonium flier! Otherwise they would have known that that was the whole point…
Surprisingly, people did get out of the street for the most part. I would have thought the hipsters would have been lunging at the cops in herds trying to get arrested to boost their street cred. But except for a few people trying to cross the street for various reasons (one of those reasons may be just ‘because,’ but whatever), the streets became relatively clear and everyone pooled on the sidewalks. But I guess the cops felt like it would be really lame or something to just stand around in the street and not make a show of anything when they were all dressed up and ready to go. (Note: Cops value street cred wayyy more than hipsters.) Clearly, the youth of Williamsburg was a dangerous force with their panda costumes, excessive standing on the sidewalk and chants that couldn’t even last for more than 5 rounds.
The last straw for the police was when a really good song came on a boom box that this guy was holding on his shoulder a few feet away from me. The cops must have known that something sinister was taking place because there were at least 10 people dancing to the music. Given that hipsters shun all forms of dancing in public, this must have signified that they were about to form some kind of revolt.
Then a cop grabbed the guy with the boom box by the back of his arm and yanked him into the street, pushing him to the ground and making him loose grip of the stereo. Now, I know that dancing is illegal and also a sin, but I think there was excessive force used in this situation. The stereo fell, batteries flying everywhere, and when a few of his friends picked it up, a woman cop angrily lunged for the boom box and tried to further dismantle it!
Seriously, when she did that, all I could think about was that scene in Disturbing Behavior when the creepy yet heroic janitor turns on the stereos and all the robot people freak out and attack them. I guess if music-playing devices to cops are pretty much the equivalent of WMDs, I can see why she tried to attack the boom box. She was unsuccessful though, as the dancing criminal’s friends battled it out of her grip.
I was also standing next to a girl who got tackled and possibly tased for sprinkling water on her friends. She didn’t get it on the cops at all, so I don’t understand what about this behavior provoked them to the point that one of them literally ran from the street to where she was standing up against a storefront, grabbed her by the collar and threw her into the street and pounced on her along with several other burly police officers. I mean, you could tell the people around her on the sidewalk were kind of like “Spraying water is more of a hot concert thing than a riot thing but whatever?” The only thing that cop might be able to plausibly say to justify arresting that girl is that he thought the water was actually lighter fluid and she was attempting to burn down the Pizza Place behind her Do the Right Thing-style. “It’s your turn now, mothafucka!”
One potentially good thing about the people getting arrested and brutalized for absurdity though is that approximately 45 people captured everything on video. The currently sad thing about that is that there is only one YouTube video posted of it as of now.
So what have the hipsters learned tonight?
A) Hipsters will assemble if a raucous street costume party is involved, regardless of if they understand that the motivation behind the assemblage is attacking their habits of consumption.
B) Police officers have ocular implants that compel them to crush musical machines.
and C) Hipsters will (probably) use their tendencies to excessively capture life in digital form instead of experiencing it directly to contribute to the public sphere of information… in a few days, or weeks. Maybe… if they feel like it.
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Video by Frooze.
PS: Girl who got arrested, I have your Yankees hat if you want it! A police officer found it on the ground and threw it towards me after they dragged you away. I picked it up, put it on backwards, and gave him the finger.
[Hipster scouting: Bedford Avenue 2 am]
Friday, August 15, 2008
I’ve noticed that some readers have responded to my [Hipster scouting: Craigslist New York] post – a tale of one banker’s plea for romance and seduction from a lone hipsteress – by commenting that a similar scenario had happened on something called “Mad Men.” I wasn’t really sure what it was referring to, but I thought I remembered seeing that title to describe an AMC show in a Sunday Times article. So when the people I was conversing with at a bar off Bedford Avenue tonight (I’m not going to comment on if it was a hipster bar or not but they definitely played The Cure 95% of the time there) mentioned Mad Men, I thought I would demonstrate my knowledge of pop culture and impress them by asking if they were talking about the show about the advertising execs in the ’60s.
As soon as I said it, they exchanged a knowing glance.
“Um no… It’s a band. You know, the Mad Men?”
Speaking of bands, I went to go see my manager’s band play in the basement of a bar on Bedford Avenue where they give you free pizza with your beer. My favorite song that they played was called, “I love you, but you’re fucking worthless.” Now, I’m not quite sure if he’s a hipster or not, and in any case I don’t want to be fired in case he reads this, but I thought I would put that amazing title into Google to see if I could find the lyrics and know for sure.
What I found was a website about “vampire freaks” that I’m pretty sure injected a virus into my computer, and THE MOST AMAZING HIPSTER SHORT STORY EVER.
I’m not even kidding about the caliber of this tale. Apparently, someone was inspired to write a 2,155 word “fiction” story about a verbal altercation between he and his significant other. The tale begins with the female chastising the hipster, Arkady, for being dependent:
“You can’t even get a drink of water for yourself… You’re fucking pathetic!” said Nadia from the kitchen.
“That statement is false,” said me calmly from the couch.
“It’s not nonsense, you can’t even get your self a glass of water. I have to get it for you. You can’t do anything for yourself. Without me, you would die for sure. All you are, is a fucking brat.”
Nadia has come into the living room. She is standing in front of the couch yelling sentences at me.
After that promising start, the story evolves into a tale of Nadia’s disappointment for Arkady’s habits of doing nothing but going to strip joints and Denny’s in northeast Ohio, to which Arkady narrates a series of nonchalant responses and complains that Nadia doesn’t put out. A series of insults are exchanged, ranging from the most inventive burns I have ever heard to the weakest, and Arkady reveals he has been cheating on Nadia with a stripper named Liz.
With all of the hipster angst released in this fictional argument, one would assume that the fight would result in gruesome murder, or at least them doing it – but no. See for youself. I guarantee you, it’s even better, as those endings are so passé.
For people too lazy to click the link, I’ll paste the conclusion below the jump, because I want you to experience the hipster goodness of this story like I did. I never imagined looking up punk band lyrics could lead me to discover such awesome hipster writing outlets. (That is, of course, the inevitable result from looking up punk band lyrics.)
#9) Being associated with their childhood oppressors
Thursday, August 14, 2008
When one spots a hipster on the street, his first inclination is rarely to strike up a conversation. Given hipsters’ sullen facial affect and copious amounts of street cred-earning tattoos, they are generally viewed as standoffish and even mean.
More recently, they are sometimes even referred to as “the new jocks.” This label incenses hipsters for a variety of reasons. For one, it is inaccurate; while jocks have measurable talents, hipsters do not posses talents beyond sleeping until traditional dinner hours, binge drinking and pimping their myspace profiles.
Another reason this title bothers hipsters is because they do not acknowledge themselves as oppressors. In fact, their whole image is based on being oppressed. If they were known as oppressors, they would lose their ability to receive benefits from society like being given “the benefit of doubt” when they don’t show up for work and second chances in relationships where the significant other “just doesn’t want to hurt” the hipster. This is similar to how blacks are now losing affirmative action privileges since they are viewed as a threat in workplace power hierarchies.
Also, hipsters had to endure socially-acceptable torture from jocks in their fragile years of adolescent development, AKA the “awkward phase.” In fact, jock harassment is partially responsible for the birth of the modern hipster (which would cause hipsters to hate jocks even more if they ever acknowledged that). After launching a high school and early-college rebellion (which consisted of not caring what “those assholes” thought, scamming on jocks’ girlfriends and blasting punk music in the parking lot), the jock was ousted from his spot at the top of the social ladder. (Note: Some jocks will vehemently deny this claim, using their fraternity status as proof of sustained status, but the fact that they must now spend thousands of dollars to immerse themselves in these realities of alternate cool – which are similar to WoW and Second Life – to feel superior is objective evidence against their case.)
All the while this was happening, however, the hipster went about life unaware that this transition had occurred, as is the case with most other things involving hipsters and their place in the world. That is why, as you can imagine, some hipsters are shocked and appalled to be equated with jocks. I say some because the majority of hipsters, not identifying as such, have jumped on the bandwagon with this train of thought. They can be heard wholeheartedly agreeing that hipsters are just like filthy jocks.
But there is a logical flaw in the comparison of hipsters with jocks that may alarm you because of its counterintuitivity: Hipsters are not actually mean, they are just really awkward. Their outward appearance of angst and annoyance is really just the physical manifestation of the hipster’s inner awkwardness.
For example, if a male hipster is considering talking to a female of interest, the female will likely notice the male scowling in her direction. This is because the hipster is weighing the possible outcomes of an interaction. You see, due to the years of jock-bullying during adolescence, hipsters have developed warped negative self-images and anticipate their interactions to end in some form of awkwardness. Evolutionarily, this defense mechanism has developed as an adaptive way for hipsters to save themselves from embarrassment, which would further weaken their self-images. But this plan also works against hipsters, as it thwarts social interactions and decreases their chances of mating.
To understand the hipster’s thought process in situations of potential human interaction, watch this video that was recently posted on FREEwilliamsburg.com, the hipster’s equivalent of The New York Times or Reuters.
As you can see, pervasive fears of awkwardness in the hipster’s psyche account for many additional hipster behaviors that are often misinterpreted as “snubbing” someone. These behaviors manifest in scenarios involving going to restaurants, riding elevators and all social interactions in general.
Let me just say, this video was filmed in Williamsburg for more reasons than one.
[Hipster scouting: Craigslist New York]
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
One of the girls I share a Williamsburg artist loft with recently sent me this cry of desperation yuppie fantasy romance plea she came across in the Craigslist personals (I don’t know why she was looking through them. Don’t ask don’t tell, right?).
Anyway, I thought I would post this to give hipsters hope that, despite their outward standoffishness and unemployability, they too can find romance with the middle-aged banker of their dreams!
Banker looking for hipster
Who knows if it’ll work out?
You can’t wait to tear off my pinstripe suit. If you rip any buttons I’ll totally stretch out that tshirt you bought off etsy and pass off as your own.
On Monday nights you’ll try and get me to drink. You’ll think I won’t because I have an adult job. But I won’t because I want to be lucid for this week’s episode of The Hills.
The next day you’ll tell me that my job is boring and that you hate the Upper West Side. But the truth is that you kinda like making out in central park and enjoy that my bonus can cover all the grilled cheese sandwiches you dig. I’ll make fun of whatever dirty street you live on in Brooklyn, but I know it’s a lot more fun.
You’ll pretend you can cook and make me pancakes. I’ll probably distract you while you cook and you’ll probably burn them. It’s OK; I’ve got waffles in the freezer.
I don’t have to tell you what I do or my background. I’m great on paper (school, work, charities). I’m 6’1”…handsome and jewish/irish. You be cute, wear scarves, make witty/biting remarks, and have an infectious smile/laugh.
After a while I’ll probably become a vegetarian because of you and you’ll probably start bringing up op-eds from the wall street journal when you’re hanging out with your friends. It’s cool. Don’t fight it. I promise we’ll have the sweetest combined movie/CD collection of all the couples you know.
Send a PICTURE, AGE AND LOCATION. thanks. :)
I have a feeling that this scenario, should it be actualized by a lone hipsteress with a yuppie fetish, could lead to the most epic tale of unlikely romance of the century (think Pretty Woman but more high-tech and awkward). As a precaution, I will claim rights to that screenplay right now.
Be warned though: evolutionarily speaking, the human race has never experienced a cross of this kind. If said couple actually achieved a combined movie/CD collection that kept them together long enough to mate, the result would likely be a new species…
According to evolutionary biologists, the yupster offspring would likely experience inclinations to both climb the corporate ladder (which would be met with seemingly unmotivated gifts from his father and poorly-masked glances of disappointment from his mother), and defy corporate dress codes by wearing neon ties and metallic converse high tops (earning grim diatribes from his father and loving gestures of acceptance from his mother). This will result in the need for staff psychologists to develop a whole new scale to measure neuroticism and an entire section in the DSM-IV manual, aka the crazy guide.
The yupster hybrid would go on to create intriguing controversy within the company but would ultimately end up quitting to explore the possibilities of his sub-par punk band (which would of course emply viral marketing schemes to gain followers) or move to Hollywood to direct the movie of the story of his sad existence. Both courses of action would inevitably result in failure (note: the directing plan had promise, but was unfortunately aborted due to an inadvertent copyright breach, followed by a hefty lawsuit).
Mr. Banker, I don’t know if your romantic quest will work out either, but I sure hope it doesn’t – for the sake of the children.
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Photo of hipstress reading by Christophe Legris for Stuff Hipsters Don’t Like ©2008
#6) Smiling
Monday, August 11, 2008
Smiling is considered a natural, often involuntary response to certain stimulating factors in the environment. But recently, scientists have observed a phenomenon in a small subset of American teenagers and post-graduate Liberal Arts majors residing in urban areas. It seems that when these anomalous individuals, whom researchers refer to as the “hipster cohort,” are presented with experimental stimulus considered “pleasant,” “joyus” and “delightful” by the control group (individuals of the same age group located in Grainfield, Kansas), this group will remain completely stoic, offering no facial indication that the stimulus is favorable in any way.
Explanations for this behavior are heavily debated. One possibility is that hipsters, having had all of their needs consistently met and exceeded by indulgent suburban parents, have nothing with which to contrast happiness. Therefore, the hipster’s baseline level of contentment is much higher than that of the average human being.
Hipsters do occasionally smile, but the act is almost always coupled with the act of swiping a major credit card through a reader when making a purchase, especially at faux-vintage clothing stores located in Brooklyn.
To some, especially self-righteous Canadian anarchists, this behavior is looked upon with extreme disdain. In the most recent issue of Adbusters magazine, Douglass Haddow cited this hipster phenomenon as evidence that hipsters are solely responsible for the decline of America Civilization (See article here).
“Less a subculture, the hipster is a consumer group – using their capital to purchase empty authenticity and rebellion,” Haddow writes.
But I don’t think the blame should fall completely on the hipster. Being part of the first generation to face the onslaught of advertisements through technologically advanced mediums, hipsters have simply done what has been asked of them by the capitalist machines past generations have failed to prevent and thus, have effectively created. The fleeting smile in response to capitalistic exchanges – and little else – is something to be expected. Moreover, the modern hipster has come to expect enjoyment from buying things like the people who typically criticize them expect fulfillment from sexual intercourse. (note: while the expectations built around sexual intercourse often exceed the actual pleasure received, the pleasure a hipster experiences from buying random crap is real and can consistently produce a euphoria that lasts hours. This act also requires smoking a cigarette immediately after exiting a location where a purchase was made.)
Additionally, researchers have concluded that the loss of facial motor function and inappropriate emotional response is merely the hipster’s way of adapting to a world in which real anguish is not commonly experienced. This is also why, the worst possible thing for a hipster to encounter is to find out that access to her constant stream of monetary parental support has been cut off until she gets a “real” job to actually earn money to feed her compulsions. This imposition, however, is too ironic for hipsters to handle for the following reason: The only way for hipsters to break out of the patterns that characterize them as such, is to join the very organizations that contributed to their awkward state in the first place: the advertising industries, the corporations, Hollywood – which are the only industries that are still functioning despite the decrepit state of the economy (besides the war profiteering industry).
Perhaps, the satisfaction a hipster gets from shopping at second-hand stores comes from the subconscious knowledge that in buying these products, they are failing to contribute to sweatshop labor and global warming, thereby chipping a minute amount of income away from Corporate America, the Dr. Frankenstein of the hipster cohort. (Note: sadly, these effects are canceled out when anyone shops at Urban Outfitters and American Apparel – 50 items must be purchased at the Salvation Army in order to karmically redeem one item purchased at Urban Outfitters.)
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Photo by Christophe Legris for Stuff Hipsters Don’t Like ©2008.
#5) Gentrification
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Over the past 10 years, the town of Williamsburg has become the latest magnet for high-income business people, driving property value and the cost of living way up for all, including local Puertorriqueño, black and hipster populations. As a result, crime is at an all-time high (note: I really can’t verify that statistically, but two people definitely got stabbed with machetes by a gang in the nabe recently.)
When asked if the victims were also gang members, a police officer stationed nearby the scene replied, “Nah, they were probably some kids from Oklahoma who started shit with the people who have lived here their whole lives.”
While hipsters have multiple tattoos and like to dress “hard,” they are not actually skilled with martial arts or weaponry. It is likely that in this case, and many other gentrification-driven acts of violence, hipsters have been wrongfully targeted and blamed by those in financial duress, who confused them with the corporate tools who work so much they don’t even have the opportunity to walk around the streets after 10 pm to get attacked.
If there is one thing hipsters hate more than being victims of violent crime, it is being confused with young professionals. I mean, they wear nothing but navy pantsuits and topsiders.
Thus, hipsters view gentrification as a serious issue.
Aside from being offended by mistaken associations, hipsters naturally clash with the corporate-attire wielding market researchers and investment bankers slowly filling the luxury condos and artist lofts. This is not necessarily because hipsters are morally opposed to the corrupt processes that these people willingly feed with their employment, but because their oblivion is soo ironic it hurts a hipster’s mind to think about. The whole point of living in an artsy slum is to be able to work 3 shifts a week at a shitty coffee shop and have money for rent, drugs and concert tickets. But the gentrifiers in Williamsburg work 40-hour weeks and listen to bands like Bon Jovi, missing out on the finer points of the location they are co-opting.
Kristen Reynolds, 24 who recently moved to Williamsburg from Portland and works at a local restaurant, put the situation nicely:
“I mean, why should I have to take out more money from my trust fund in order to be able to live near some professional stock loser? I would rather be mugged than hear Elton John through my wall.”
Torn between living in immediate danger and immediate wet-towelness, gentrification has forced the hipsters to retreat to the north, unofficially designating “red zones” where hipsters are ill-advised to live. These zones can be seen by this carefully rendered map:
Hipsters also do not like gentrification because some righteous hippies on city council are using it as an excuse to close McCarren Pool (and by close I mean spend millions of dollars to make it an actual pool again). See the third thing Hipsters Don’t Like for more on this.
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Map editing by Lola Wakefield for Stuff Hipsters Don’t Like ©2008
[Hipster scouting: Coney Island]
Saturday, August 2, 2008
This video, brought to you by Annoying Hipster Douchebag, is exemplary of many things hipsters do not like.
A) Bands that market to hipsters
The social events in a hipster’s life will often revolve around going to shows and hearing shitty bands that nobody likes, especially the hipsters in attendance. The reasons for this are elusive and myriad but I suspect the prime motivation for this behavior is that by suffering through Just hope the pharmaceutical industry doesn’t catch on to this form of self-medication and start funding said bands by forcing them to promote their products. Good music as we know it will then become a thing of the past.
But although witnessing live music for the hipster can be an emotionally painful experience (this explains the lack of movement and/or smiling during performances), it is beneficial in the sense that after attending said shows, the hipster will automatically gain hipster street cred by having endured. This is similar to the phenomenons of getting tattoos of meaningless symbols and going to church.
B) People
You heard it straight from the hipster’s horse’s – bad joke – mouth (the only thing hipsters and horses have in common is the desire to graze in fields – and to be ridden, occasionally, by a wealthy owner.
Check back at a later date for more to come on this topic. …
#2) Being spontaneously photographed
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Hipsters love to have their picture taken. Every snapshot is one more chance to achieve the perfect myspace profile picture. But they hate being captured as the rest of the world sees them, spontaneous and digitally unaltered. If you approach a hipster and ask to take his picture, he will either:
A) Oblige, but spend five entire minutes attempting to portray “distant indifference” while shaking his bangs so they fall in the perfect asymmetrical pattern. Then, unless he is in a hurry (note: hipsters don’t actually hurry; they only occasionally quicken pace to give the appearance that they have something more important to do than talk to you), he will inevitably force you to show him the image after and retake it if it does not meet his standards. If it excels his standards, he will insist that you email it to him, further lengthening the encounter.
or B) Contemplate why you want to take his picture, become extremely self-conscious, angstily refuse, and proceed to question his identity, become depressed.
This becomes problematic when attempting to capture true hipster essence. In order to avoid the bad karma of inducing a midlife crisis on your subject (note: while the life expectancy of the average American as calculated by the Centers for Disease control is 77.8 years, the life expectancy of the average hipster according to my own precise calculations is 28 years, so it would really be more like an over-the-hill crisis) or wasting time, I devised an unobtrusive and surefire method to capture hipsters on camera in all their unsuspecting glory.
My lovely assistant will demonstrate:
#1) Hipsters
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Hipsters have a particular disdain for their peers. They are ruthless when it comes to criticizing the outfits/haircuts/body modifications of the other people around them, and often hold impromptu competitions to see who can spot the biggest hipster in the room. Winner would take all, if he cared – which he doesn’t. You know you have encountered a true hipster his first utterance when entering a venue is “Jesus, this place is crawling with hipsters.”
The hipster will not make any attempt to whisper or conceal his disdain for one reason and one reason only: the hipster does not believe that he is a hipster. Just as Clayton Bigsby, the blind white supremacist played by Dave Chapelle, goes about his life unaware that he is actually black, hipsters attend free showings of movies like A Wet Hot American Summer and The Virgin Suicides at McCarren Park Pool blissfully unaware that they are not really as ironic as they think they are. (Note: any attempt to inform a hipster that he actually is a hipster should be considered futile; be prepared for an incredulous stink eye followed by immediate nonchalance.)
Hello world!
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
This is a scientific approach to highlight and explain stuff hipsters don’t like. They are pretty predictable.