You're not, cuz you're funny

Classic SF nonhipster commonly mistaken for a hipster by people who have never been to New York. Why?

Oh, there are so many reasons. 1.) He's funny. 2.) He's wearing khakis. (Yes, he is. Look harder.) 3.) He's into bikes and has a pierced (maybe gauged?) ear and it's not ironic. 4.) His hair is blond (maybe even dyed.)

If he ever went to Williamsburg he'd get his ass beat by girls wearing vintage wrong. Actually, scratch that--if he ever went to Williamsburg the real hipsters would cower in fear, bc one thing SF nonhipsters have over those puny New Yorkers is muscle mass. Score one for us.

Oh, the home team. How I love you.

(Via SFist)

"My golden hoodie strings totally match my facial hair"

Dude, no. No. It's part wanna-be, part oil painting. It may be part awesome, but it's definitely not hipster.

Only on Bart would this jacket ever happen.

Thanks jada, for sending this in!

Quote of the week

The thing about the guy who uttered the below quote is that he rocks. Rocks. I have a soft spot for him in my heart for all sorts of reasons, not least of which is that he enjoys the same organic market in Red Hook that one of my favorite nonhipster friends ever (gregory from NYC) took me to, and also that he, too, suffers the indignity of a day job. I feel your pain, dude.

And according to his interview, he's not getting much play, Greenpoint Brooklyners. So, mobilize nonhipster hotties, and give this man some love.



Broke-Ass Stuart: Are you a hipster?

Paul T. Alkaly: I’m too fat to be a hipster. I guess that would make me a fipster.



Read the whole interview.

P.S., Mr. Alkaly, if you lived in San Francisco everything would be cheaper (excet rent) and the nonhipster hoards would welcome you with their chipper, drunken, naturally blond come-ons in beautiful, debaucherous parks. Just a thought.

silver is the new gold.

this was submitted by our loyal reader jay. thanks jay!

when pigs fly... or when swine flu...

before this gets out of hand even more than it already has, you're not a hipster if you think you have, talk about having, talk about someone who has, talk about someone who might have, or even mention the words: swine flu.

most importantly because a hipster wouldn't know if he had it or not. hipsters don't get wrapped up in hype.

swing out, sisters...

to all you guys swinging happily on bart: you're not hipsters because you're having fun. you're not worried about being judged. you're smiling. you're not judging anyone. you're swinging on swings and having fun.

true hipsters would spend the time on bart, reading camus kierkegaard and judging others harshly, so that others judging them would not matter.

you swingers are doing none of the above.

i was almost tricked by this guy. his scraggly beard and unkempt hair almost made me question his trying to be a hipster.

"maybe," i thought. "maybe he truly is one."

then i noticed the jacket, and realized that he, too, is trying just a bit harder than he'd care to admit. and that shit-eating grin on his face is just too much to handle.

disqualified.

nice try, nonhipsters on bart. but you can't fool me.

a shout out...

to the guy i saw wearing a pea coat and greek fisherman cap as i walked up 2nd street this afternoon, you're not a hipster. pea coats are wool, not cotton, and it was actually tailored to your body, clearly illustrating that it was purchased rather than picked up off a pile of discarded clothing somewhere on the other side of cesar chavez street. i'm also pretty sure you got your hat from marc jacobs, which means you must've stepped foot in pacific heights. i don't care how skinny your jeans are, or what level of aloof your facial expression is.

Vampires vs. hippies

Girl, you're not because you have a tan (see previous commenter for reasons why this disqualifies you). And you sir, are not, because you are a white man with dreadlocks, which means one thing: hippie! You're a hippie! And even your skinny jeans and your scarf can't change that.

But you guys look mad happy, so, mazel tov! But another thing: obvious happiness is a hipster no-no. (Exceptions to this rule: when watching the television show "Twin Peaks" or finding a Member's Only jacket in a color you don't already own, it is OK to smile and even whistle. But then you have to stop.)

(Via Fashionist)

Farmers' markets are places hipsters go to look ironic; not to eat

Because of the zipper. And you're waiting in line to sample free food. To eat. In public. Hipsters are never seen eating.

Also, uh, that bag means you maybe rode a bike in those shoes, and as much as track bike riders this city over will hate to hear this, hipsters don't ride bikes. They don't have enough muscle mass.

You're not a hipster.

on the 31 balboa yesterday afternoon...

hi, sorry to break it to you, but you're not a hipster. refer to to this post if you need to know why.

Putting my foot in my mouth (where it belongs)

OMG, Allan just commented on the blog (blush--hi Allan!). This gives me an idea: perhaps I should write quasi-insulting posts about all the bloggers I admire and then we can be BFF. Ezra Klein, the next one's coming at you. Though the reasons Ezra's not a hipster are innumerable and obvious, including, but not limited to, the fact that he cares passionately about, you know, health care, Palestine, and global poverty. That is totally not a hipster thing to do.

Why Allan from Mission Mission is not a hipster

Here's the thing about being a hipster. It’s like Fight Club: the first rule is you don't talk about it, and the second rule is that you never, not ever, admit to being one or think you are one. The moment you think you are one, you're not. I'm definitely not one because the other rule about being a hipster is if you have a side ass (the proper name for which may be saddle bags, but fuck you, that is rude) and are knock-kneed, you're not one. So that leaves me out. Whatever.

Now, my good friend whom I adore (and by that I mean this dude whose blog I love and read but have never met but whose taste in chicaronnes and dive bars is impeccable) Allan, from Mission Mission, seems on the surface to be a hipster. He kinda dresses like one--tight pants, ironically overdressed skinny ties--and he lives in SF's hipster mecca, the Mission. But then you start to realize, no Allan, you're not a hipster. Evidence that he is not:

1. He runs a successful and ever-popular Web site. Hipsters don't need fans. They send their art out into the void and the moment it becomes popular or makes them money, they cease being hipsters.
2. He is 28. That's almost too old to be a hipster. It's like being an actress, only slightly less soulless.
3. In a recent interview with Broke Ass Stuart, he is asked point blank if he is a hipster and he answers, "Well, I am wearing a fanny pack." That, my nonhipster masses, is a tacit yes. And as we know, that breaks the cardinal rule of being a hipster. Also, I have a friend who wears fanny packs and she does it without any of that affected irony that Williamsburg heroine-chic history majors wear it with. And you know why? Bc she grew up behind the fucking iron curtain, bitches, and she doesn't know the fanny pack is from the '80s! She thinks it's new, and shockingly convenient. Once I said to her, "Hey insert-Russian-name here, you're wearing a fanny pack!" and her face turned red and she said, "Why vood you call dis dat? Dis is my hip purse!"

Now, she, my friends, is a hipster. Because she's awesome and has no clue.

(Photo credit: Broke Ass Stuart)

these shoes are made for standing around and doing virtually nothing in

hipsters don't care about what they wear on their feet. as long as they can have their morning cup of coffee and write a poem and perhaps create some music that's not going to be mainstream for another four years.

nonhipsters care very much about what they wear on their feet. and usually end up wearing some urban outfitters rehash of a shoe that was solely (pun intended) worn to be functional, not fashionable, about 25 years ago -- older than the actual wearer. like keds. and vans. and anything you'd find here.

now i'm not saying that these shoes are particularly bad. or unfashionable. or even not functional. because they are. and they can be.

shoes don't make the man. or the hipster, as the case may be. just like prada doesn't always mean pretty (case in point), weird, beat up, and narrow doesn't mean hipster. it just doesn't. no matter how much you wish it to be true.

when is a hipster not a hipster?

so in trying to come up with a theme for this blog, blü and i had a long discussion about what makes a hipster not a hipster. mostly to make sure we're not hipsters ourselves, thus deeming this blog pretty hypocritical and lame. but partly to determine what it is about hipsters that makes them not hipsters, even though they think they're hipsters.

and the answer is: hipsters who think they're hipsters, are nonhipsters.

saying "i'm a hipster" or not cringing when someone else calls you a hipster, makes you a nonhipster.

hanging out with other people who say "i'm a hipster" makes you a nonhipster by proxy.

or, if someone were to ask you "are you a hipster?" and you answer, even in your mind and not out loud, "yes," then you're definitely not a hispter.

saying "hipsters like track bikes, like mine" implying that you are, indeed, a hipster yourself, makes you a nonhipster.

if you who dress like what you think hipsters dress like, but make an effort to do so, then you're a nonhipster.

the list is endless. and will therefore be added to as this blog gains momentum.

enjoy. and remember: you're not a hipster.