HIPSTER!

My friend recently told me about a game called "Hipster." You walk down a hipster street (for example: Vancouver's vinyl store and plaid infested Main Street) pause and yell "HIPSTER!" at the top of your lungs. Then, while trying to pretend that it wasn't you that just screamed a random word in the middle of the sidewalk, you watch all the hipsters turn around in response to the call and then cringe at the fact that they responded to the term hipster. Cause everyone knows, nothing is as un-hip as calling yourself a hipster.

While I'm sure you'd be pretty successful if you did this in the vicinity of the 5 Points on Main, I really only find it kind of funny. Because, truthfully, a lot of my experiences in the city lead me to rub shoulders with the bearded, bespectacled indie crowd and I always end up feeling massively out of place. Maybe in other cities this would sound like paranoia, but anyone who has been to a show at the Biltmore wearing bootcut jeans and a hoody that isn't skin tight knows exactly what I mean. Vancouver's in-crowd has a way of making you feel so out-of-the-loop you want to apologize for crashing the party.

The funny part of this is that I have lived, and continue to live, what basically amounts to a hipster lifestyle. I may not smoke weed but I listen to CBC Radio Three and love the weekly podcast with a passion. I know indie bands by name and can toss out descriptors like "grunge-y jazz," and "alt-country with a emo vein," and actually know what I'm talking about. I'm an (admittedly new) convert to Canadian hip hop. I know the difference between dub-step and drum and bass thanks to some incredibly cool people in Ottawa and a random bus conversation with a tattooed DJ/ street person. I have art that I spray painted myself on my walls. I hitchhiked across Canada. I have, in the past, worked at a coffee shop. I bike around town, love yoga and wear sandals far, far past when it is seasonally feasible.

But I don't dress like an indie princess. I own plaid, but it is mainly in the form of shirts that hug my curves and make me look polished, in a sort of cowgirl way. My moccasins have made their way back to their original owner and, although I own a pair of mismatched Keds, I never wear them because they are too flat and make my feet hurt. Also, in all honesty, I CAN'T really dress like an indie princess, not without looking incredibly stupid. I have curves and boobs and there aren't too many oversized teeshirts out there that a girl with a chest and hips can layer over floral leggings and birkenstocks without creating the visual of a potato sack on toothpicks. Trust me, I've tried.

It really comes down to this: the indie scene in Vancouver really is a SCENE. These people are supposed to be listening to music that is deeper than the mainstream, caring about topics that are broader than the average young adult and embracing a lifestyle that is open and inclusive. That is the vibe that is supposed to be normal at indie shows everywhere. Really, though, I always feel like people are just eyeing me up to decide why I showed up to their show without an afghan scarf on. But maybe it's just me.

In closing: a word from one of my favorite local artists, who, although he is the king of the hipsters at the moment, has apparantly felt the same way.

"Bus down to the local record store
Buy something to make you like me more
Indie queens and tatty east-side punks
They are listening
Always waiting
Are you watching, are you?"

The Indie Queens are Waiting- Dan Mangan