B)

A friend of mine brought to my attention that a picture from SamSamland has been posted on the blog, Look At This Fucking Hipster. 

I don't really like the term "hipster," but I see that the flow of "Look At This Fucking Indie" doesn't work, so I can appreciate that. I also am not sure of the tone of the "Fucking" in the title. Does it take  more of a "fucking awesome" or "fucking ass hole" tone? Either is flattering.

I am concerned about those that cut themselves from the cloth of the hip. Cookie Cutter People that go to bed at night only knowing this about themselves: they'll wake up listening to vinyl, trimming their beard, being sexually ambiguous, drinking second rate beer, buying trinkets at thrift stores, taking awful pictures and dating girls that look just like them but that are less angsty. I understand that I am maybe one of those people, but I can't help that I love Helvetica and Fleet Foxes.

These activities may have stemmed originally from actual, honest pleasure that was experienced through them, but they have since created a sort of depraved kitsch seen in Zooey Deschanel films. 

My image that was posted on LATFH was part of a series of images purposed as a critique of the same elitist culture of kitsch that they now sit next to. And I love it.
LATFH has a book that is sold in Urban Outfitters. That's like Tyler Durden selling the rich their asses in luxury soaps.
I can appreciate that. Because white people love irony.

From this very post you can derive your own perception of me. I'm not guaranteeing it's wrong, but I'm giving you two options to make it easier:

A) I am so indie that I don't even realize it and that very act of humbleness only makes me more of a character from a Wes Anderson film. 

Anti-Inspiration

While these images of eternal, sun-kissed, vintage summer are alluring, they are absolutely cheapened by how commonplace they have become through movies like 500 Days of Summer and music like She & Him. Sorry, Zooey. Life should be anything but contrived, and those of the vintage persuasion have become mere collectors of sensationalized image. Some golden hour they weren't around for and they want a piece of that pie. I do see merit in this genre, but it's usually not seen for what it is: a candied view of the past as present. Distinct memories that people hold in the things they collect are lost in the smear of people trying to make a quick buck on novelty or those trying to forget how truly miserable their real past was. These images aren't personal anymore, but women will keep putting bows in their hair, wearing Buddy Holly glasses that aren't prescription while they dress their boyfriends in bow ties, checkered tops, and yeah, Buddy Holly glasses. Chances are, they weren't alive when any of this was "in," but they've seen pictures of people wearing the same outfits--and they seemed happy enough.
 Here's everything I try not to love: