Dear Hipster:

I am three months into dating the same woman, and it is going very well...except for Valentine’s Day, which didn’t go over very well at all. I could be wrong about this, but last I checked, February 14th was a fake holiday cooked up by candy companies and Victoria’s Secret. It celebrates consumerism more than love and affection, and I’ve never been into it at all. I mean, it abbreviates to VD! What more ridiculousness could you want? I just kind of let the holiday pass by this year, but the lady I’m dating is super bummed because I didn’t get her flowers and take her to a nice dinner. I want to be, like, “this holiday is bogus,” but I also want to make nice with her. Am I legit in my rejection of this made-for-TV holiday? Or does my desire to stand on principle threaten a budding relationship?

— Apparently Romanceless, Alpine

Of course Valentine’s Day is a mainstream schlockfest. Who doesn’t know that? Perhaps you didn’t notice how I steadfastly refused to print anything Valentine-related that week? I don’t care how many feckless would-be Romeos write, “Dear Hipster, how will I best win her love?” (hint: more than you think, though not many more), it’s not in my nature to pinch-hit for Hallmark.

But know this, as hipster as it is to reject a mainstream holiday — for which I applaud you — there are 51 other weekends every single year, during which you might make a reservation at a nice restaurant. A hipster skilled in the art of boyfriending might deliver himself from your predicament with the following dialogue:

“Hey, Boo. You’re way too cool for a mainstream holiday like Valentine’s Day. Plus, it’s amateur night at all the good restaurants, and we both deserve better. I made a reservation at this new Imperial Vienna–themed restaurant I just found on Instagram. I’ve followed their bartender ever since he turned me on to grapefruit bitters, and he mixes up an anti-Valentine’s cocktail, which is basically just Black Velvet, neat, drunk ironically. I got us a table for two on Leap Day, because what’s more romantic than once every four years?”

Dear Hipster:

I have a shoo-in for the Hipster Hall of Fame. It’s Barbara Mandrell. Who’s that? Why, the singer of “I Was Country When Country Wasn’t Cool,” the most hipster country song of all time!

— Daryl, Talmadge

Are you trying to get me in trouble? If my hipster friends find out I didn’t actually need you to tell me who that was, I would have some explaining to do. But I’m with Chuck Klosterman in that, “The most wretched people in the world are those that tell you they like every kind of music ‘except country.’” I’ll wager the last time you heard that flaccid nugget of pseudo-intellectualism it dropped from the mouth of a 19-year-old collegiate hipster-in-training who thought he was the coolest kid around because he just “discovered” the Mars Volta. I, on the other hand, proudly listen to my Buck Owens Pandora station, and I own Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc., Etc. on vinyl. I don’t think Barbara Mandrell gets a spot in the Hall of Fame, but an honorable mention may be in order.