a chastisement of that which i've become

alright. fuck hipsterdom.

sunk into this rut of imitation without meaning, a wasteful and consumerist approach to fashion, i've become that which i've always hated: the hipster.

from my skinny jeans to striped shirts, i have managed to combine by middle school trends into this vapid, meaningless hodge podge of societal vomit.

though i've never really fit into those crowds, often feeling ostracized for my inability to completely deny myself as well as my clear judgemental nature of the epitomy of what i used to despise.

these are things which i reject:
hipster keffiyeh- if you don't understand what it means and aren't well read on the tragedy in palestine, don't be so damn offensively cliche.

the hipster fedora: don't know what to really say about this....

the super deep v-neck- just nasty. patchy chest hair is just pathetic. being a frequent v-neck wearer, i still find deep v's nasty... if its deep enough to potentially get a man nip slip, its too nasty

excessive beads- jesus christ... i detest devendra barnhart enough for his music much less this picture....

the hipster vest- "i think vests are all about protection: the life vest protects you from drowning, the bullet proof vest protects you from getting shot, and the [hipster] vest protects you from pretty girls.

the hipster mullet- ew. just ew.

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