I’m not gonna lie; I’ve been in danger of losing my hipster status as I slowly moved into Regular Mom Territory. I think I’m back.
When the term “hipster” started being applied to me in about 2008, I was perhaps the only person on earth to embrace the title. Of course, denial of one’s own hipster status is one of the universally acknowledged criteria for hipsterdom, so I was already on pretty thin (locally sourced, artisanal) ice. But I was so flattered to be seen as hip and/or young! Over the last several years, my hipster identity started to slip. Here, in no particular order, are the things that have happened since 2009 that made me think about changing the name of my blog to just “Mother,” or whatever iteration thereof hadn’t already been claimed by the Internet.
- I stopped relying entirely on public transportation and my bike. I purchased a used 2002 VW Jetta.
- I stopped acting. More about that decision here.
- I settled into a full-time job in arts administration. This is less hipster than my previous full-time job doing administrative work for tech companies because arts administration made me feel like as long I was facilitating the production of art, I didn’t really have to make any art of my own. When I was an accounting assistant at Defense Technology Or Whatever Incorporated LLC, you can bet your sweet patoot I was out of the office and on my way to rehearsal at 6 p.m. When I worked in the arts full time, I ate/slept/breathed my job. I had good health insurance. That’s not hip.
- I stopped smoking. Please note that I’d been smoking American Spirits, which rival only Parliament Lights in hipster cred.
- I started walking with a cane. It’s a stylish cane, but that first old-lady cane with the pink roses on it from CVS was a real humdinger. (Which actually ended up working for me––Plenty of people thought I was using it ironically. Yay?)
- We bought a house, moving out of our c. 1925 apartment in the cool part of Capitol Hill and into a ranch house in the affordable part of Hyattsville.
- I stopped buying clothes at thrift stores, as there was no Goodwill by my new suburban home. I started shopping in the maternity section at Target.
- I had a baby.
- I dressed that baby in predominantly unhip clothing, leaning instead towards a wardrobe that was cheap or free. Circo hand-me-downs all day, son!
- I kept wearing my Liz Lang Maternity collection, because I’m not gonna spend all that money on clothes that I’ll only wear for four months. Plus, once you embrace jeans with elastic waistbands, it’s real hard to go back to the oppression of standard denim.
- Andy and I stopped podcasting, instead spending our free time living with our child.
- After the well-worn Jetta broke all the way down (on the side of the road, at midnight, with our 8-month-old in the back seat), Andy and I bought a brand-new Honda CRV. It has room for Charlie’s future sports equipment in the back.
So there I was, in my maternity jeans, driving my SUV from my office job to my suburban home, clinging to my chunky glasses frames for dear life. BUT DON’T WORRY:
- A year ago, I left my longtime employer and started freelancing as a writer/copy editor/social media consultant while I finished up my M.F.A. in creative writing.
- As such, I spent most of the last year being a semi-impoverished grad student.
- Just under two weeks ago, we moved into our cozy c. 1925 apartment in the cool part of L.A…
- …So that I can pursue writing full time. I’m that girl working on her pilot with her laptop at the independently run artisanal coffee shop in Eagle Rock.
- I smoked three Parliament Lights on my new balcony. Don’t yell at me. They were awesome (and then disgusting).
I haven’t gotten any younger, and youth is an asset to any would-be hipster. However, I think I can classify myself as at least an “aging hipster” without running into a branding problem.
In conclusion, if you’d had concerns over the last year or so that this blog wasn’t meeting your hipster needs, let me assure you that the record player is up and running, and that we just moved in across the street from a vinyl store. Plus a used book shop, a sassily named antiques place, 17 coffee bars, a few regular bars, a fish taco stand, and a Jack In the Box.
Two tacos for 99 cents. I’m living my best life.