Dear Hipsters, the world wide,
Let’s get one thing straight: I am not one of you. Period. I never will be. Here are the following reasons why. Please take notes…
1. I can say, completely unironically and with a straight face, that I love bad 80’s music. Keep your damn Sufjan Stevens, I’d much rather hang out with Steve Perry.
2. I have never spent more than $50 at Urban Outfitters.
3. I have only two (hidden) tattoos. I lost all my piercings about 4 years ago, minus the ill-fated lip ring I got back in June and then wound up removing 3 months later.
4. I have no intention of trying to make a living with my “art.” It’s a hobby. If I manage to make a few bucks off of it in the meantime, well, thats awesome but I’m not going to hold my breath.
Now I know you’re saying to yourself “Wait, isn’t this the same girl who owns a macbook and dresses like a 16 year old indie girls closet fell on top of her head?” and I would reply to that with a resounding YES! It is true that I read stereogum. I’ve attended an Of Montreal concert. I waste countless hours in front of my TV with my macbook on my lap, switching between writing ridiculous blogs and watching the newest Adult Swim cartoons on my TiVo. I have, in all seriousness, worn a mini skirt with leggings. I know at first glance I could be mistaken for a hipster chick, only I am not “cool” enough to be part of your club. I love (not in an ironic way either, mind you) too much nerdy and lame crap to ever be a hipster.
So, I hope that has cleared a few things up for you all.
Thank you and goodnight!
ErnieBot
I am going to get you a fixed gear bicycle, an engineer’s hat, an Interpol record and a sense of entitlement for x-mas, you little millennial, you.
You’re a hipster and you know it. Clap your hands.