Ha ha ha @ hipsters

Yet again, news.com.au serves up the laughs!


The hipster has no clothes

Just when you think mainstream culture couldn’t get any shallower along comes the hipster.

No, I don’t mean the hipster sub-culture that beat writers like Jack Kerouac identified with in the 50s or low riding jeans most of us shouldn’t wear, I’m talking about the new breed of inner city trendy taking over small bars, laneways and cafe\bookstores everywhere.

Somehow draping yourself in ridiculous clothes and capering around while being deliberately ironic has become highly desirable for thousands of twenty and thirty somethings.

For those of you who are asking, ‘just what is a hipster?’ think fashionista culture meets indie street sensibilities, add a dash of metro-sexual leftovers then a sprinkling of first year arts degree intellectualism and you have the hipster.

Imagine you walk into an inner city café, there’s a tattered ottoman and some milk crates scattered loosely around a few rickety tables, a plastic palm tree glued upside down to the roof in one corner and indie music even triple J rejected bleating facetiously in the background.

The female barista is wearing sleeveless mechanic’s overalls with the name “Jerry” stitched on, and the several waiters with asymmetrical bangs down one side of their otherwise shaved heads cast derisive glances at you through thick rimmed glasses. Welcome to Hipsterville.