The Seven Shades of Hipster
Hipsters have walked among us "conformists" since the dawn of day. Okay, maybe more like a fistful of years -- who the hell is counting? Since their subcultural conception in the early 2000s, they have been garnered with a notorious rep of looking -- and sometimes smelling -- all the same.
Photo by: Nycole Sariol
The phrase "that's so hipster" is the inferred diagnosis if you've been caught: A) Wearing a bowler hat on the reg; B) Buying a pair of leather ankle booties usually donning some sort of conspicuous hardware, or C) Neglecting your hygienic duties of slappin' on some deodorant. Hey, no judgment.
Regardless of the stereotypes, all hipsters are not created equally. In fact, you probably never even heard about the assortment of different subcategories within in the subculture -- sub-subcultures, if you will. (Creating new words is so hipster.)
On a hunched-backed, indie-lovin', black-lipstick wearin' level, us Miamians are no match for Hipster meccas like Silverlake, Williamsburg, or even Bushwick. But this weekend told a different story at the Wynwood Life festival in (gasp!) Wynwood. It seems the counter-cultured tides have been churning and spitting out our very own unique species of Hipsters.
In our observation of these sub species at the three-day shit show of art, music, and fashion, Cultist found the Hipster menu of style to be vast. You can order just about any type of Hipster - extra authentic, light on the greasy hair, or even a la Nasty Gal. Take your pick. There's a flavor for everyone.
Caution: Never accuse a hipster of being a "hipster." They'll deny the shit out of it, and you'll have no one else to blame but yourself for forcing them out of their natural habitat, you fucking hipster killer. For shame.
Hipsters Con Lechon
Photo by Nycole Sariol
These two tykes served as fine representatives from the Latin American Hipster community, hailing all the way from Cuba and Venezuela. How you'll distinguish them from your average hipster is by their slightly lower V-necks and bling-bling adornment, oscillating in front of their semi-bare chests. They didn't say so, but I know deep down they were just dying to let our one big "WEPA!" Ay.
The Nasty Gal Hipster
Photo by Nycole Sariol
The bangs; the wide-brimmed, floppy, felt hat; the platform tennis. Does this not scream Sofia Amoruso's twinsie?