When I was 17, I got a pair of (for me) extremely hipster glasses. Couple that with a six inch chop to the hair, and I was a whole new woman! I fascinated myself, and was a little disappointed too. I didn’t pull off hipster the way I thought I would. As someone who enjoys writing and feeling her feelings to the greatest extent of feeling feels, it didn’t make sense. Why didn’t I pull off hipster?

In fact, I even went to a Bon Iver concert, wearing said glasses. This was not a total tool move, because I’m actually nearsighted, but still. Can you get more hipster? I literally saw Paul Dano. AND Bon Iver was my first high school breakup album on a continuous loop! I repeat, any hipsters in the house? No? Yeah. No. I’m not a hipster.

I’m just not hip. If we’re gonna reference some “American Psycho” slash Huey Lewis, I definitely am far more square than hip. I’ve accepted this fact, begrudgingly, but I’ve accepted it. And now, I’m proud of that angsty time. Did I mention I was also the Editor of my school’s literary magazine? The darker,

My outfit for Bon Iver. Note the incredible differences between my hot pink bedroom and my muted colors.

deeper, danker— the better. And still, not a hipster.