By:  Mike Thurau

What do you get when you combine Pabst Blue Ribbon, vintage flannel, a 64-gig iPod, and smug sense of superiority? I don’t need to tell you, do I? You probably have already conjured an image of a friend or acquaintance and have a pretty good idea of the word, the moniker, the label, that I am about to write next:

Hipster.

We all know who I’m talking about. We might know a few (or even be!) hipsters ourselves. It’s hard to pin down a single defining schema for the trust fund babies and tortured artists of our generation, but I’m going to try anyway. In my experience, Hipsters are like pornography. It isn’t as easy as you’d think to define what it is, but you definitely know it when you see it.

Each generation has its own unique sub-cultural phenomenon. Our parents had the Hippies, our older siblings had the Punks; and from the looks of things, we’re stuck with the Hipsters. I’m not trying to write a rant condemning all Hipsters (although with sufficient reader feedback I’d be happy to!) Instead, I’m just trying to make sense of what seems to be one of our generation’s most visible cultural products.

First things first though. What is a Hipster? Is it the knowledge of obscure bands and artists? Is it their love of Pabst Blue Ribbon? Is it their futile striving for “authenticity” and uniqueness? A highly developed sense of irony? An appreciation for music and culture that is inaccessible through normal venues? It’s hard to say.

I prefer to listen to styles of music that aren’t normally played on the radio and have been known to enjoy bargain basement beer myself. Does this in fact make me a (gasp!) Hipster? I don’t think so, although one of the surest signs of Hipsterdom is the refusal to identify themselves as a Hipster. I would say that it has more to do with a continual quest to be original. However, real originality would require a creativity and boldness that most people don’t possess. As a result, appearing original is the next best thing.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that Hipsters are self-absorbed. Indeed, the Hipster conscience flinches at the thought of sweat shops, groupthink, and passive consumer culture. American Apparel, for example, has been totally embraced by Hipsters because of its labor practices. Shopping there makes them feel like they’re spending money in the right place. Sure it costs a little extra, but who ever said authenticity was cheap? Activism is a lot of work; but for those with a good deal of disposable income, paying the extra six bucks is probably very reassuring.

That’s the irony of Hipsterhood. The desire to be special is a part of all of us, but it takes a lot of effort to get others to acknowledge your uniqueness. At the end of the day, your individuality is a matter of what you do. You might have the fashion repertoire to pull off your indie/punk/emo/ scene aesthetic without looking ridiculous, You might even look spectacular, but consumer habits are a pretty shallow way to assert yourself. Taking the time and money to build a vintage record collection and perfect “look” does prove that you are different from everyone else. It proves that you are more superficial than everyone else.

It’s a degrading thing to be exactly like everyone else. Feeling mundane can lead to feelings of mediocrity, unworthiness, and apathy. It’s perfectly natural to want to be exceptional. But if your exceptionality is only skin-deep then its time to ask yourself. Am I a Hipster?