Hand Me A Shovel, Please


Hipster, No.

I’ve felt kind of anti about writing lately.  I guess that’s kind of a Captain Obvious statement given that there hasn’t been anything published in that time frame.  It wasn’t really about not wanting to. I kind of did but there was also strong reasons to not.  I’ve been in a peace keeping mood and I felt most anything I said would have thrown lighter fluid on the fires of crazy.  Since I got back from Melbourne, though, I think I have been looking for a specific topic to inspire me to NEED to talk about it.

Miss Thang and I were talking this morning and somehow fashion came up.  One of those meandering topics that started with my mentioning my baby at one point had a “BoyToy” belt buckle and my loving her even more for having had that AND for telling me about it.  That led to Flashdance sweats.

FLASHDANCE

I do not think that it is possible to discuss 80’s fashion and not have this come up.  So like… the conversation turned from there and so did the thought train in my mind.  Two very different routes.  In my head.. it went “FASHION FASHION FASHION WOOLHATS HOLYFUCK I HATE HIPSTERS…” It never takes much to inspire me to bitch about hipsters. So here we are.

WOOLHATS

Melbourne endlessly fascinated me with the sheer amount of style. I saw so many looks that I would have never thought of but I was so about. And also sadly, the huge number of dipshits sporting the wool cap. Yes, large amounts of contempt. It was HOT in Melbs.  Not like “Oh dear, I’m going to die of  sunlight.” But quite warm.  Most of the time.  Every time, Mr L laughed at me because I could simply not refrain from reacting to it.  Perhaps just an eyeroll.  But usually a bitchy comment whispered in his ear.  You could generally tell the intent was “Oh I can’t be bothered to mess with my hair.”  However, the result was always “I stood in front of my mirror and WORKED on this look for probably longer than I would have my hair.”

I think that’s my number one hipster pet peeve. I can even deal with the skinny jeans on boys.  I don’t get how he walks in those but ….whatevs.  I get it.  I’m not dumb enough to sit here and say that ANY fashion, trend, or whatever isn’t contrived.  Of course it is.  But the willful hypocrisy of  “I will spend a long time on my appearance to try to convey that I’m way too deep to worry about fashion” makes me want to take a shovel in hand to slam into a face.

No, hipster. No. Do not think we’re on the same team. We have nothing in common. I wear knit hats when it’s cold out. You wear knit hats ’cause of Coldplay.

I think I feel better now.

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~ by Layla on May 4, 2012.

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