Quit calling me a hipster

Dante Frattini

It is time to get serious. I am not, by nature, a confrontational person. But when a vicious and calculated attack is launched against my character, you can be sure that I am going to stand up for myself. Please recognize that this is very difficult and embarrassing for me to discuss.

A few days ago I was called a hipster.

I feel like that term applies to me about as well as “reserved” applies Lady Gaga, or “attractive” applies to … well, Lady Gaga.

That remark has forced me to question myself in ways I had not thought possible. Am I a hipster? I have never considered myself pretentious and intolerable. But maybe I am wrong. Maybe I have been too hard with the connotations I have associated with hipsters and their culture. No, that cannot be it…

I cannot think straight. This is a nightmare.

That insulting remark has slowly eaten away at my insides like the stomach-bursting creature from “Alien.”

One need not know of a person’s inner workings to label them as a hipster. The two qualities most closely associated to hipster culture are music and fashion.

Hipsters attach themselves very deeply to their music. Also,hipsters consider themselves musicians of some sort. I dare you to take a tour of a hipster’s midtown studio apartment and not see a keyboard, a guitar or even a keytar.

A hipster enjoys an obscure indie band like Okkervil River largely because they are an obscure indie band.

That is not to say these kinds of bands cannot be good, but sometimes it seems that the quality of music is not necessarily the primary reason for listening.

“There is something exhilarating about owning something unique or listening to a band that not a lot of people know about,” said Deborah Arellano, senior government major.

I could enjoy a little-known band like American Football just as easily as I can enjoy a notoriously un-indie band like Coldplay.

I just think hipsters are afraid of sharing an interest with someone who is decidedly uncool.

If I had that same mentality I would not be a fan of Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Who and many other great bands my parents introduced me to.

Hey hipsters! If you keep living your life as some sort of challenge to be the only fan of every artist you like, you will die a miserable person. A miserable person wrapped in an adorable thrift store cardigan and skinny-cords.

In fashion, an even finer line is drawn between a hipster’s style and the style of a guy like me.

Almost every day you can find me, and thousands of other comfort-lovers, in jeans and a T-shirt. My shoes range from boring to nondescript. I will throw on a jacket if the weather demands it. That is all. And I love it.

The satisfaction I get from my style’s simplicity is completely lost in the hipster culture. Layers, exaggerated details and accessories are staples in any experienced hipster’s wardrobe.

Overheard at any given Urban Outfitters: “Yeah, I like this shirt but I don’t feel like the neck accentuates my sternum enough, you got anything in a deeper V? Hey, do you think this Christmas sweater makes me look ironic enough?”

“The more you look like a homeless person, the cooler you are,” said junior communication studies major Tyler Canaday.

When it comes to fashion, hipsters are going the extra mile to look poor and unkempt.

The prevailing opinion of hipsters is a negative one. They are seen as condescending elitists who act as if they belong in a separate hipster-only utopia. Actually, I think that place exists and is called “Portland.”

I refuse to let an awesome taste in music and a style that could be described as “hipster-lite” force me to wear the scarlet H. Those people are not bad, just unbearable, and for some reason very easy to despise.

So please, be careful when throwing around that H-word. Because if it lands on the wrong person, it just might cause an identity crisis that necessitates a thousand-word rant. And nobody wants to read that … right?

Dante Frattini can be reached at [email protected]