Roxy, baby, I am the genuine article. I was doffing my beaver fur topper and sporting all-velvet suits in my sophomore year of my first university (that was back at the turn of the century.) Those were the "dark times" back when Eiffel 65, 98 Degrees, N' Sync, Backstreet Boys, and Creed were topping the charts, five years before Nickelback's "Photograph" would drive hundreds of millennials to kill themselves in agony. At the time, the "hipsters" of mockery and memes were then in organic cotton diapers and still had training wheels on their penny-farthings.
I bought my first Underwood Series 4 typewriter in 2001, and had amassed a ridiculous collection of knit and crocheted 12-ft scarves by 2003, just as hipsterdom was coming into its own.
Fortunately, I needn't worry about my style being co-opted by a generation of art-house coffee snobs. The hipster scene has come and gone. The NEW scene, according to the list-obsessed, long-form-article killer - Buzzfeed, is the
Yuccies. I suppose this means I am free to flaunt my usual trademarked style - as it will surely be regarded as ironic in the "post-hipster" age.
Quite simply, I am the Meta-Hipster.