The great thing about having a blog is that I can rant as much as I want when I want and where I want (assuming it's close to a computer). I invoke this privilege today to recount my commuting experience this morning and to issue advice to all those tragically hip New Yorkers who cross my path.
I normally don't leave the confines of the N train during the morning rush until my appointed stop, but this morning, in an effort to shop at Trader Joe's before the hoards descended upon it, I hopped off the train at Union Square just after 9:00 AM.
Union Square, where the yellow trains, green trains and grey L train converge, is a mad house at any time of day and is especially intimidating at 9:00 AM when all the people with "serious jobs" have been at work for an hour or more and those left commuting are the aimless, oblivious commuters who don't have to be at work till 9:30 or 10:00. (Apologies to those diligent commuters with flexible schedules for lumping you into the latter category.)
It was in this setting that I encountered my first tragic hipster of the day. I more wove around him than encountered him, really, seeing as how he was WANDERING AIMLESSLY ON THE SUBWAY PLATFORM! Come on! You're in the subway station, that implies intent to RIDE A SUBWAY TRAIN. You've got the express to your right, the local to the left, JUST PICK ONE AND GET OUT OF MY F***ING WAY!
Of course I said none of this, being the gentile southern lady I am (heh). I just grumbled about f***ing hipsters and went on my way. But thinking back on this guy I'm really bugged by the pervasive trait that all the tragic hipsters seem to share: those enormous f***ing aviator sunglasses. Have you noticed that irrespective of weather, temperature, and most annoyingly, location, the aviators are always donned, the hair is always shaggy and those retarded looking military hats are always on their heads (except when replaced by the equally annoying newsboy hats).
Maybe that's why this poor kid was wandering aimlessly on the Union Square platform, he couldn't see through his hip yet impractical sunglasses to determine which train he should get on. Was that it? Or was it that he had the sunglasses on to hide his bloodshot eyes from the harsh neon lights of the subway platform?
Either way, hipsters of New York, let's be practical. You don't live in Miami, LA, San Tropez or any of the other well-lit destinations that might necessitate consistent wearing of aviator sunglasses. You live in New York City where 7 million people miraculously manage to live together without doing each other serious bodily harm (at least not on a regular basis). And you, hip though you are, must do your part to maintain this ecosystem.
I normally don't leave the confines of the N train during the morning rush until my appointed stop, but this morning, in an effort to shop at Trader Joe's before the hoards descended upon it, I hopped off the train at Union Square just after 9:00 AM.
Union Square, where the yellow trains, green trains and grey L train converge, is a mad house at any time of day and is especially intimidating at 9:00 AM when all the people with "serious jobs" have been at work for an hour or more and those left commuting are the aimless, oblivious commuters who don't have to be at work till 9:30 or 10:00. (Apologies to those diligent commuters with flexible schedules for lumping you into the latter category.)
It was in this setting that I encountered my first tragic hipster of the day. I more wove around him than encountered him, really, seeing as how he was WANDERING AIMLESSLY ON THE SUBWAY PLATFORM! Come on! You're in the subway station, that implies intent to RIDE A SUBWAY TRAIN. You've got the express to your right, the local to the left, JUST PICK ONE AND GET OUT OF MY F***ING WAY!
Of course I said none of this, being the gentile southern lady I am (heh). I just grumbled about f***ing hipsters and went on my way. But thinking back on this guy I'm really bugged by the pervasive trait that all the tragic hipsters seem to share: those enormous f***ing aviator sunglasses. Have you noticed that irrespective of weather, temperature, and most annoyingly, location, the aviators are always donned, the hair is always shaggy and those retarded looking military hats are always on their heads (except when replaced by the equally annoying newsboy hats).
Maybe that's why this poor kid was wandering aimlessly on the Union Square platform, he couldn't see through his hip yet impractical sunglasses to determine which train he should get on. Was that it? Or was it that he had the sunglasses on to hide his bloodshot eyes from the harsh neon lights of the subway platform?
Either way, hipsters of New York, let's be practical. You don't live in Miami, LA, San Tropez or any of the other well-lit destinations that might necessitate consistent wearing of aviator sunglasses. You live in New York City where 7 million people miraculously manage to live together without doing each other serious bodily harm (at least not on a regular basis). And you, hip though you are, must do your part to maintain this ecosystem.
So while I realize that you take a great deal of pride in your appearance and have invested heavily in your plaid and corduroy wardrobe, please think for a moment about how your utter oblivion to the world around you may piss off those of us who are not quite as hip as you.
And take off your sunglasses inside for f**k's sake. 
Thanks to The Fed, Columbia's subversive newspaper, for the hipster guide. It's worth looking at the full size picture here.
6 comments:
I think hipsters are a fascinating contrast to the hippy. The hippy thinks it serving a larger cause. By contrast, is expressly about nothing. They read the paper and magazine, but only to keep up, only to repeat the thoughts of others. The hipster seems to lack gumption.
But I can't remove my sunglasses because the future is sooo bright!!!
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Hipsters are lame ! i LOVE Aviator Sunglasses though.
I'm not a hipster but the hipster style is quite comfy. I take my aviators off indoors though and don't wander aimlessly unless I'm early for someplace I need to be and I have to kill time. Oh and the link to the full size version of the picture doesn't seem to work...
Tally-farking-ho! I approve!
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