The hippest in the land...

Though tired from a sore throat and a reality check called “returning to work,” I wanted to write a quick post about last weekend before the next arrives.

The highlight was probably a hipster beauty pageant in Williamsburg. (See official logo, left.) Truthfully, it was more of a pseudo-hipster event, because you know real hipsters will have nothing to do with anything so crass as an event that screams “HIPSTER!” Description as follows:

Who will be crowned king and queen of the disaffected hipster set? And more importantly: do you have what it takes to take the skinny-jean-wearing, Murikami-reading, BMX-bike-riding crown? Enter to become part of history; all others can just show up and drink their faces off.

Our program is designed to be an excellent vehicle for advancing your social and romantic agendas. As a contestant, you will be judged in three equal categories including Personal Interview, Streetwear, and Talent. While performance-oriented talent is not a requirement, we ask that you have at least one demonstrable skill that you can showcase to the judges.

We got there during the talent portion and watched a shirtless, sparkly tie-wearing English lad present several contestants: a quiet, bearded guy who drew something; a girl in a blue jumpsuit who shotgunned a beer while dancing; a guy who taught how to make Jorts (jean shorts, ranging from knee-length to short-short); a girl who pretended to bang away on a typewriter while throwing back whisky and responding to a voiceover she’d made, detailing some tragic childhood event that I can’t at the moment recall.

The artist and shot-gunner were crowned, but by that time everyone had moved to the bar and little art installation room nearby. I chatted briefly with the jort-maker, who had an incredibly impressive life resume including school at Colombia, a job teaching hs students and a stint in Africa. Of course. But the most hipster person there was a designer wearing an outfit composed mostly of necklaces. When I asked what his hopes/dreams were, he rolled his eyes behind his giant shades and said, “Well, I don’t really have any because I’ve already accomplished them.”

You certainly have, sir. Hipster on.