So I’ve come to the stunning realisation I’m a closet hipster. Yes, conservative Pete is just a rouse, and you all fell for it!
I’ve had my suspicions for a while, but have never really been able to, well, be honest with myself.
I’ve been doing all sorts of hipster things in a clandestine (and not so clandestine) way. I have not shaved all week and I want to grow a beard (not so secret really). I’ve been gelling my hair back in the comb-over style that’s popular with the beautiful people. The other day at work, I didn’t wear a shirt and tie. Nope. Not even close. I wore my chinos. I wore a checkered button down shirt. I didn’t tuck it in. I didn’t roll up my sleeve. I buttoned the sleeves down. I never do that, except of course for weddings and funerals. And that day was neither of those. And it’s usually a business shirt, not a casual shirt. I did the buttons up high. I’ll probably post a pic.
How else do I know I’m a hipster? I take photos and put them on instagram. But I won’t take a nice portrait. I’ll take the photo from some strange angle and filter it strange, then blur out the edges. I love the hashtag #urbex . I love that kinda retro look on stuff. I think I want to get skinny-ish jeans. I’m sick of my conservative look.
I’ve been doing other hipster-like stuff. I’ve been secretly reading Smith Journal. I loved brush stainless and un-rendedered brick. I dig hipster-ish bands like Midlake, Mumford & Sons and of course Brittany Spears. Just jokes on the Brittany. I’ve liked her since the ’99.
Do you ever get the feeling you want to break free of your conservative appearance and kinda do something really different? Well that’s me.
Oh there are some things that I have not (and wont do). Take photos of food. I’ll do it for booze, but not food.
Where will it end? Who knows.
I guess the ironic thing is that a true hipster (like a true alcoholic) would never admit their status. So perhaps this is a bit self-serving.
All’s I know is I’m out. And proud. And still quite conservative.