I see you, boy with the clipboard and unwashed hair. I see you petitioning to have McDonald’s removed from the campus and asking if I have “60 seconds to talk about baby seals.” I see you creating that Facebook group inviting us all to watch porn, then discussing its implications regarding gender communication. I see you and I think: Stop making us all look crazy.
Do I wish people cared more about the environment, consumed meat more responsibly, respected women and bought locally-grown organic goods? Of course I do. The problem is extremely intense advocating (see: People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) makes it really easy for the uninformed to just scornfully write off any worthy movement as being for weirdos (see: feminism).
My friend — a self-proclaimed hipster, which is a contradiction in itself as hipsters never admit to being hipsters — who lives in New York City claims I have no idea what a hipster is and that my perceptions are all wrong. He’s probably right, but I’m going to talk about hipsters I see on the campus, which is perfectly OK because they have no idea who they are either.
Hipsters at the university seem to be a conglomeration of many types of hipster: the intellectual, the music scorner, the “all my clothes are from a thrift store” and the “I’m wearing an $85 Supreme hat,” the politically active advocate, the fixed-gear bike rider, the “Look at my Hasselblad camera: Everything looks so much cooler in black and white,” the skateboarder.
I like hipsters, but I’m not a hipster.
Strike one: I own Uggs. I had dinner with a hipster friend during winter break and wore them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more horrified, even though we once watched his dog jump through a plate-glass window in pursuit of a deer.
Strike two: I read lesbian vampire novels on my Kindle. No Leo Tolstoy.
Strike three: Hipsters seem to be the only ones doing any kind of intellectual discussion or protesting on the campus — things I don’t participate in because I’m apathetic.
I’m out. I do own fake horn-rimmed glasses though. My bad.
Anyway, I went to Testudo’s Market last week, and it was hipster central. If I wanted to round up and capture the university’s entire hipster population, I would’ve just dropped a huge net over Hornbake Plaza. Everyone likes the idea of supporting local farmers and local art. There was a stage with people playing instruments and such, but unfortunately many hipster-ish types chose to use it as a platform to yell things like “Don’t feed the monkey! Don’t feed the man! Fight corporations!”
When you’re doing a cover of Nada Surf’s “Popular” while wearing Ray Bans — which any self-respecting hipster has given up by now — and a plaid shirt during the university’s farmers’ market, you’re just alienating people. We go to a state school. Everyone knows bros hate hipsters, which clouds their judgment when it comes to things like saving the planet and helping others. If you want people to not eat meat and buy locally produced goods, you have to infiltrate using stealth tactics. What does my bro-ish friend — who once yelled “You look like a tool!” at a guy with a faux hawk during a basketball game, if that gives you any idea — think of the delicious, cheap, vegetarian-friendly Maryland Food Co-op? “It smells funny.”
See what we’re up against?
Bethany Wynn is a junior French and sociology major. She can be reached at wynn@umdbk.com.
