RDH - Hipsters, That Self-Proclaimed Attractive and Sexy Group, Are at Risk for Losing Their Cool

Hipsters, That Self-Proclaimed Attractive and Sexy Group, Are at Risk for Losing Their Cool

July 9, 2007

There's nothing finer than being a true hipster these days. You get to be simultaneously creative, sexy, attractive, frugal, liberal, tolerant, generous, sensual, and pharmacologically sensible. The majority also enjoy paleness and thinness. All but one or two are young (under thirty-five, or, in a pinch, and only as a sort of mentor, thirty-eight).

What happens when some of the more evanescent of these traits vanish? We've interviewed an anonymous former hipster to find out.

RDH. You call yourself a former hipster. Why?

FH. Well, I may be selling myself short, but for one thing, I'm no longer a kid. Plus I've put on a few extra pounds, and those extremely expensive jeans I used to covet no longer seem to be in the cards. I know, I could probably develop some sort of heavy-hipster persona, but I have thin calves, and I tend to see myself as a thin person.

RDH. Okay, so you're older now, and maybe a little paunchy. Do you find, like I do, that the off-the-rack clothes, from places like Target—you know, the mainstream stuff that's taken the liberty of growing with the population—work best for your sense of style?

FH. If you're talking about the phenomenon of vanity sizing, yes. My waist is a thirty-six now, which I feel okay about, even though I know that's the clothing industry being generous to me. And yes, I do shop at Target, as a matter of fact. I find their cargo shorts, in particular, to be pretty durable and tolerably fashionable. And all the pockets come in handy when, for example, my wife needs me to carry her phone or her glasses, or when the kids pick up the inevitable plastic novelties at the inevitable school fair or mall arcade or dollar store.

RDH. Let's talk about some of the other hipster traits. You're a liberal, right?

FH. Of course. Maybe a few million dollars could change me on this point. Or if I met a really hot nineteen-year-old Republican who was desperate to sleep with me and learn all about the tricks that I've learned in my time, but only if I voted Republican.

RDH. In other words, you'll never be a Republican.

FH. Probably not.

RDH. What about sex? Do you still consider yourself to be sexy?

FH. Well, yes. But I just wish that I could've known then—when I was nineteen or even twenty-seven—what I know now. Because part of being sexy in America today is being young, and I'm no longer young. I simply cannot pretend I'm twenty-eight again. Only three or four human beings my age can really do that, and I'm just not one of them.

RDH. You mean you're not aging gracefully—

FH. No. Hair loss, to begin with. And though like any self-respecting balding hipster I've decided to shave my head and acquire plastic-rimmed glasses, the frames of which draw the gaze down and away from my high forehead, it still bothers me. Call me vain if you like.

RDH. Do you wear a hat?

FH. Yes.

RDH. What style?

FH. I favor fitted team caps, because of my unusually large head.

RDH. Then you probably don't emulate the fashion that would dictate a loose trucker hat with a flat brim turned partly sideways, shaggy hair poking out at improbable angles, like some sort of cartoon gas station attendant from a re-envisioned 1970s?

FH. No. I curve my straight-ahead brim down at the sides the way most professional baseball players still tend to do.

RDH. What about music?

FH. I remain respectfully eclectic, I suppose. But very recently I've branched out into classical music, choosing, for example, the iconic recordings of Beethoven's cello sonatas with Pablo Casals over the more refined and sonically realistic set featuring Yo-Yo Ma.

RDH. Interesting. What about drugs?

FH. Well, for me, pot, for example, is a great drug. But I've grown old waiting for it to become legal. And also it's sort of a hair drug for me.

RDH. How so?

FH. Well, now that I've begun to lose my hair, I've simultaneously lost my drive to get and stay stoned. These days my main drug is beer, which takes the edge off the stress of trying to provide for and maintain a small family.

RDH. Do you own a car?

FH. Yes. An old Japanese sedan. It's my wife's, actually.

RDH. If you could have the car of your dreams, what would it be?

FH. A new one, preferably with four-wheel drive, because the winters in my corner of the world are pretty intense.

RDH. Well, that about covers it. Thanks for your time.

FH. It's been a pleasure.