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Much as it pains me to ignore your collective problems for even a moment, I’m on vacation this week and unable to answer your letters. But, fear not! I’ve persuaded my cousin, Caroline...sorry, I mean, “Nightshade” Stevens, a Goth teenager from the 1990s, to field your inquiries. Stay hip, my friends! — DJ Stevens

  • Dear Hipster:
  • I’ve stained a favorite shirt badly enough that it can’t be cleansed, and I wonder, is there some sort of hipster, upcycling use for a damaged shirt rather than just throwing it away? — Chris

Oh, poor, sweet, innocent Christopher. How it pains me to read this missive, draped as it is in the vain hope of a brighter tomorrow. Wouldn’t it be easier to just admit that we are all doomed to the darkness, that the world’s sadness knows no limit, and we are all dying every day? Condemn that stained shirt to the eternal refuse heap, my brother of the night, and invest in some darker colors. Black is a great place to start, or to end. Not only does it hide stains, it more accurately reflects the miserable state of the human soul in a loveless world.

  • Dear Hipster:
  • I’m a terrible, awful cook; seriously, I don’t even boil water. Normally, this isn’t an issue, but my office is having a potluck to celebrate a milestone for a coworker. I think it’s a clever workaround, since the business can’t afford catering, but everybody agreed not to spend more than $10 on the potluck as a kind of culinary challenge, and now I’m stuck because there’s not a lot of decent food I can get for under $10. How do I get out of this one? — Lilah

What is a potluck dinner compared to the sweet promises of endless night? How can you think of food when each of us suffers interminably as a thousand shards of shattered crystal tears at our souls throughout the eternal torment of mortal life! Your immortal being cares nothing for baked ziti or spanakopita. Even so, $10 worth of Oreos goes a long way, and their combination of blackness and pallor is delightful.

  • Dear Hipster:
  • I never listen to them anymore, but I still have every compact disc I ever bought. I’m really attached to my CD collection, but my girlfriend wants me to give/throw them away. I can see where she’s coming from, since they take up space, but I don’t think we need the space around the house, and I have a lot of memories attached to so many years’ worth of music! In the era of Spotify and iTunes, should I let this one go?
  • — Derek

Save all the Joy Division. Dump everything else. CDs won’t help you achieve vampiric transcendence or lift the veil of darkness from a world as meaningless as this one. For the sake of anguished peace with your lady love, confine your memories to the pages of your dream journal.

  • Dear Hipster:
  • A friend and I have a disagreement over plaid. I think it’s okay to wear a flannel shirt and a flannel skirt in different plaids. She says that’s too much plaid. I have to say you can NEVER have too much plaid. I mean, I wouldn’t double-plaid all the time, but every now and again it’s good to show my best plaid gem, right?
  • — Denise

Sigh.

— Nightshade Stevens

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