On Conformity

                Hipsters, the supposed non-conformists they may be, all have something humorously in common.  Every time they step into a thrift store, Hot Topic or Spencer’s Gifts they are allowing the general population to dictate how they dress. 

                With every horn-rimmed glasses frame, pair of Tom’s shoes, cut off jean shorts or colander-esque t-shirt of a band no one’s ever heard of, the stereotypical hipster promotes a prejudice.  The fact that there is a stereotypical hipster should provide plenty of evidence that a group of nonconformists is an oxymoron.  I had a hipster friend in high school that was a huge fan of a band called Minus the Bear.  He wore all their hard to find merchandise, listened to their EPs that no one else knew existed and responded the same way anyone asked about them, “they’re pretty obscure, I doubt you’ve ever heard them”.  One day we were at our mall’s Barnes and Noble sifting through their music section when he saw one of Minus the Bear’s albums prominently displayed. 

“It’s as if I don’t even know Minus the Bear anymore, what a bunch of sell outs!”

I replied, “You’re actually mad you’re favorite band is popular?  You’re not glad they’re doing well for themselves?  Would you prefer they stay at a constant equilibrium at the brink of obscurity and starvation?  They probably worked minimum wage jobs up to this point.”

“I feel like they’ve changed.  They used to be all about the music and now they’re all about selling their clothes to middle schoolers.  They might as well be Hanna Montana.  Look at this album, it’s completely different than their last one!  What happened to vinyl records anyway?”

The first hipster stuck out like a sore thumb, the self-satisfaction he gained from avoiding social norms was probably legitimate and people probably applauded his originality.  He wore slacks instead of britches, a bowler hat instead of a top hat and probably popped his collar.  He probably actually had a curly mustache instead of a look-alike tattoo on his finger. 

                I’m curious to see the new demographic of anti-conformists, We had Goth in the 90s: They all wore saggy black pants, face paint, dark, long hair and had vials of blood around their necks.  The 00s had the Emo revolution: Swoop to one side of their face to cover their eyes, jeans tight enough to reveal the circulatory system of their legs, eye liner, and facial piercings.  They all looked the same and wrote poetry with dark undertones and overtones.  Could the 10s be the decade of the hipster? I certainly hope not.  Maybe this new crowd will realize that being in a flock of black sheep is the same as being in a flock of white sheep, only you look ridiculous.