Hhshirt - That’s what I do I pet dogs I watch star wars and I know things shirt

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I’ll preface this by saying that I am a self-identified yuppie. I like German cars, I drink single malt Scotch, I shop at Brooks Brothers, and I work for The Man. It’s a gross exaggeration to say that I “hate” hipsters (why, some of my friends and family members are hipsters!). I’ll also say that I really have no issue with hipsters who are just in it for the That’s what I do I pet dogs I watch star wars and I know things shirt also I will do this fashion aesthetic (which I don’t personally care for, but it’s a free country and they can wear what they like). or hipsters who are sincerely dedicated to some artistic, cultural, or economic pursuit. So, hipsters who recently opened a shop in my neighborhood selling $3 single cups of single-origin, fair trade, pour-over coffee, more power to you. I may roll my eyes at your skinny pants and iPad-based ordering system, but you make an awesome cup of coffee. Keep it up!

At best, that kind of hipsterism is just mildly annoying elitism. They liked your favorite band before it was cool, and they really want you to know that (but they don’t play an instrument or even have a basic grasp of music theory, and funny how the That’s what I do I pet dogs I watch star wars and I know things shirt also I will do this only artists worth listening to are skinny White people. Primarily Black and Hispanic music forms are, well, kind of ghetto). At its worst, consumer hipsterism is a form of poverty tourism, of slumming. It condescends to the poor and working class in the name of “irony”. It sneers at people like me, people who make above-average income by working long hours at corporate jobs. But the truth is the hipster ecosystem can’t survive without us because we bankroll it, either directly through our own consumption or indirectly through the Bank of Mom and Dad. Far be it from me to look askance at people just trying to make a buck (I’m a yuppie, after all). But consumer hipsterism isn’t honest about its intentions. It presents itself as a force for social good, but doesn’t give a shit about the hard work of real social justice. It dons the trappings of economic deprivation, but at a price the truly poor can’t possibly afford. It’s the smugly lecturing “farm to table” restaurant patron (buy organic! buy local!) who has never heard of food deserts in low-income neighborhoods. It’s the fixie-rider who won’t take the bus because the people on it make him uncomfortable.

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