Ok, I know this is stupid, but what was this guy’s catch handle?

All I know is I got into a couple of dust-ups with Kevin K. over his reflexive hate for anything not Pitchfork approved.

Sof Taco.

And I have to say, I kind of agree with this. As much as certain hipster things annoy me, like the chick I saw on the train to my friend’s a weekend ago that wore her hair just as ugly as she possibly could (bowl cut, slightly off tilt--not sure if intentionally so or not, straight-across bangs, rat-tail braided with dirty green string in it) (and what’s worse, she had a pretty face, but man, you could hardly see it past the hair.) (God am I old.)

Anyway, as much as I say that, most of the people bitching are a bit hip themselves, and, I don’t know, it just gets tired. I was in Williamsburg with an otherwise delightful girl (hipper than me by far) who kept whining, “God, there’s so many fucking hipsters! When we lived here it wasn’t like this ...” forgetting we may have been the ones responsible for gentrifying the neighborhood in the first place.

Of course, most of us aren’t slaves to fashion like those who overshot the mark on Look at This Fucking Hipster. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t have any share in this.

Ah, Catch… heady days.

Reading this makes me want to stand up and clap (or roll my eyes and take a swig off my flask depending how alt I’m feeling). I’m simultaneously bored and enthralled with the H&M-cum-thrift-store-wearing, always-on-the-list, looking-at-their-iPhones-instead-of-me-when-we’re-at-dinner, Sparks-drinking, Gossip Girl-watching set. Then I realize that I’m wearing a zip-up dress made from old khakis and listened to Coconut records on the way in and, well, I know I can’t complain too much, myself.