I’m not quite sure when anything with the word “hip” became associated with ME. But apparently, I’ve been labeled a hipster.
Problem is, I’m not really too sure what exactly a “hipster” is.
OK, to clarify here, no one sprung out from behind the bushes, pointed a slimy finger at my nose, and screamed, “HIPSTER!” As if I’d just robbed a bank.
No, if that had actually happened, you’d have heard the frantic 9-1-1 call gone-viral by now. But according to everyone—apparently—if you’re a 30-something, you’re a hispter.
I kid you not, I’m hearing it everywhere. In articles. On T.V. Even a popular blogger said she’d trade in her Gen-X status to be a “30-year-old hispter.”
WOW. Is my generation really that cool?
Well, then again, we ARE the children of the Baby Boomers. Free love people; you can’t get any more “hip” than that! And these people actually raised us.
But back to trying to understand this whole “hipster” thing. I asked my Facebook community the other week, “How the heck do you know if you’re officially a hipster?”
And, well … here are some of their answers:
I’m thinking Oscar explained it the best.
WHAT DO YOU THINK? How the heck do you know if you’re a hipster?
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