Dear Hipster:
So, I’ve been planning on writing to you for some weeks now, but I just never got around to it. Too lazy, or whatever. But, today I got to thinking, “Hey! If I’m too lazy to even write to this dude, then that certainly must make me a hipster!” But, of course, here I am writing to you, which definitely is un-hipsterish. It’s like writing a letter to the editor, or even posting a comment on the internet. These things are done by people with some overblown sense of self-worth, who think that other people actually give a shit about what they have to say. So, now I’m sitting on a conundrum. Am I a hipster or not? In my defense, I will say that while wearing jeans with holes in them is definitely cool (a derogatory term these days... puts you in a Kim Kardashian category), I don’t like holes in my jeans. So, I take out some patches and my sewing stuff, and I patch these jeans and sew them up, and with absolutely no sewing skill at all. I of course end up with jeans that look like a Frankenstein monster. So, I will submit that walking around in Frankenstein jeans definitely puts you in the hipster category.
— Mike “the old farty fart” Mulrenan
In defense of those who write letters to our editors, but not on behalf of indefensible internet commenters, your query would have benefitted substantially had you incorporated more question (this is ASK a hipster, after all) and less rambling diatribe. It’s not that I don’t like a good diatribe. Heavens no, and quite the opposite. Diatribes on topics most people don’t ever think about, let alone obsess over, are my stock and trade. For one, I don’t even need an excuse for the denim rant onto which I will soon embark.
But first, as for that conundrum you’re sitting on, presumably in hopes of an upturn in the red-hot conundrums market, well, you know how they say you’re only as old a hipster as you feel? What does your old farty fart heart tell you? Does it whisper obscure song lyrics and urge you to order kale salads and caramelized brussels sprouts at your favorite local brasserie? You may find you’ve always known the answers you seek.
Your “Frankenstein jeans” (DUH duhn duhn duhn duh duhn duhn DUUUUUHN duh duhn duhn duhn duh duhn! AMIRIGHT, PEOPLE?!?) remind me of a story. Naturally, it’s about me. I once spent three days hand-sewing patches onto a favored pair of jeans, only to have them all rip out in the first wash. Cool story, huh? Modern denim is often too light to patch. It seems that anything below a 12oz fabric will be too weak to hold a patch by the time it needs patching. Sanforization (heavy steam treatment that pre-stretches raw fabrics) further weakens the base cloth. A door is only as strong as its frame, and the same holds true for pants.
Patching a pair of naturally sturdy jeans would certainly combine the hipster proclivity for handicrafts with the famous hipster desire to buck consumer trends, like buying lots and lots of disposable stuff at low prices. For whatever reason, this behavior has not taken root in the American hipster consciousness. Should it do so, I hereby authorize you to stand there, radiant in your smugness, and speak the magic words: “I was into that before it was cool.”
Dear Hipster:
So, I’ve been planning on writing to you for some weeks now, but I just never got around to it. Too lazy, or whatever. But, today I got to thinking, “Hey! If I’m too lazy to even write to this dude, then that certainly must make me a hipster!” But, of course, here I am writing to you, which definitely is un-hipsterish. It’s like writing a letter to the editor, or even posting a comment on the internet. These things are done by people with some overblown sense of self-worth, who think that other people actually give a shit about what they have to say. So, now I’m sitting on a conundrum. Am I a hipster or not? In my defense, I will say that while wearing jeans with holes in them is definitely cool (a derogatory term these days... puts you in a Kim Kardashian category), I don’t like holes in my jeans. So, I take out some patches and my sewing stuff, and I patch these jeans and sew them up, and with absolutely no sewing skill at all. I of course end up with jeans that look like a Frankenstein monster. So, I will submit that walking around in Frankenstein jeans definitely puts you in the hipster category.
— Mike “the old farty fart” Mulrenan
In defense of those who write letters to our editors, but not on behalf of indefensible internet commenters, your query would have benefitted substantially had you incorporated more question (this is ASK a hipster, after all) and less rambling diatribe. It’s not that I don’t like a good diatribe. Heavens no, and quite the opposite. Diatribes on topics most people don’t ever think about, let alone obsess over, are my stock and trade. For one, I don’t even need an excuse for the denim rant onto which I will soon embark.
But first, as for that conundrum you’re sitting on, presumably in hopes of an upturn in the red-hot conundrums market, well, you know how they say you’re only as old a hipster as you feel? What does your old farty fart heart tell you? Does it whisper obscure song lyrics and urge you to order kale salads and caramelized brussels sprouts at your favorite local brasserie? You may find you’ve always known the answers you seek.
Your “Frankenstein jeans” (DUH duhn duhn duhn duh duhn duhn DUUUUUHN duh duhn duhn duhn duh duhn! AMIRIGHT, PEOPLE?!?) remind me of a story. Naturally, it’s about me. I once spent three days hand-sewing patches onto a favored pair of jeans, only to have them all rip out in the first wash. Cool story, huh? Modern denim is often too light to patch. It seems that anything below a 12oz fabric will be too weak to hold a patch by the time it needs patching. Sanforization (heavy steam treatment that pre-stretches raw fabrics) further weakens the base cloth. A door is only as strong as its frame, and the same holds true for pants.
Patching a pair of naturally sturdy jeans would certainly combine the hipster proclivity for handicrafts with the famous hipster desire to buck consumer trends, like buying lots and lots of disposable stuff at low prices. For whatever reason, this behavior has not taken root in the American hipster consciousness. Should it do so, I hereby authorize you to stand there, radiant in your smugness, and speak the magic words: “I was into that before it was cool.”
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