Have a Scrunchie New Year!

Dear Hipster:

What were the best and worst parts of 2019?

— Zadie

From the hipster perspective, the best part of 2019 would have to be the brief return to popularity of the scrunchie. Ordinarily, we hipsters care little for mainstream fashion trends, but the return of the scrunchie is a huge moral victory for hipsters. People love laughing about hipsters doing old-fashioned things, like listening to music on vinyl, infusing their own cocktail bitters, or growing mustaches more suited to an Austrian monarch than a part-time artist/full-time table server. But, if something as pointlessly quotidian as a 1990s hair tie can ride the retro train to mainstream glory town, then who’s laughing now?

The worst part of 2019 was obviously the Cats movie. We have known about the “uncanny valley” since 1970, and we all agree: nobody wants to spend the night camped out there listening to not-quite-human voices cry out in the darkness of the imagination. So, why did the movie’s producers think it would be a good idea to pitch a $90,000,000 tent there? Learn a little hipster discernment in what you try to “bring back,” please and thanks.

Dear Hipster:

This year, I received a holiday gift I hate. I won’t go into detail about what it was, for fear of outing myself to the gifter. That could mean it’s something super identifiable, or it could mean the person who gave it to me is, like, super perceptive and would deduced my identity from the smallest clue. I won’t say. I won’t even say what holiday it might have been. It could have been Chanukah or a pagan winter solstice. Maybe it was Festivus. I won’t tell, because I’m paranoid about having my gift-receiving shame made public in the pages of the Reader. All I can say is that it was from a person who should have known better, and ultimately could not have known worse. Maybe you think I’m over-dramatizing, but if you’d gotten this gift and you were in my shoes, you’d feel the same, I promise. Anyways, tempted as I am to hide the gift away and let it become one with the detritus at the back of my closet, I know it’s only a matter of time before I’m having to explain myself in relation to my perceived non-appreciation of this gift, at which point I will die a thousand deaths on the inside. Conventional wisdom has failed me, so I need an unconventional solution!

— Mickey

Everybody always says “be polite” or “find something nice to say,” which is all well and good if you have time for that. As all this talk of scrunchies has put me in a delightfully ‘90s mood, I’ll make an obscure reference (so obscure there’s no helpful YouTube clip to illustrate my point) to the mediocre 1990s college angst flick, Glory Daze (of all the movies featuring a pre-Good Will Hunting Ben Affleck, it’s definitely in the top three!), and recommend “preservation by destruction” as a means of protecting your interests. Burn the house down if you have to, or resort to lesser means if sufficient. Don’t hesitate to sacrifice more cherished property as collateral damage, thus lending verisimilitude to the proceedings. Only by totally obliterating the offending object(s) can you avoid responsibility for them.