it had to come out eventually.

i'm a generally quiet person and don't usually share my opinion with others.

but today, i got the sudden urge to vent the feelings i've been feeling for the past few months.

it occurred to me today that hipsters are overrated douche bags that only want to be friends with other overrated douche bags. i’m not hatin’ on hipsters. i’m just judging “hipsters”. the wannabe ones. mormon hipsters.

they raid the DI and sport their secondhand clothes around campus. the fake horn-rimmed glasses are a necessity. glasses make them seem intelligent, which therefore puts them “above” everyone else.  and the more obscure a band is, the more superior they are to you. if you don’t listen to bands like mumford and sons, devotchka or say…blue hawaii (haven’t heard of them?), then you’re not “hipster” enough. mormon hipsters are more like snobby people, who strive to be more superior than the normal folk that surround their apparent “uniqueness”. they have to be “different”.

i am not going to lie to you. for a while, i once considered myself a “hipster” or “indie”. i fit most of the criteria and i didn’t even know it. i was sick of wearing the clothes that everyone else was wearing and being that awkward high school student. sometimes i felt like i didn’t really have an “identity” and that i needed one to get noticed. it was just that typical “i want to fit in” mumbo jumbo phase that most high school students go through. therefore, i changed my wardrobe. no biggie. my wardrobe ranged from shirts and dresses from anthropologie and urban outfitters, a variety of wolf shirts from gas stations and indian reservations, and the occasional shirt or skirt from the DI.

and then one day, during my junior year of high school, i found out that a lot of the music i had been listening to for awhile was considered “indie”. i really felt cool that i was listening to stuff that no one had ever heard of. my friends began showering me with CDs because i had unique music taste and listened to the coolest music. by the summer before my senior year, i considered myself somewhat of a hipster.

and to this day, i haven’t changed anything about myself. i’ve been told that my clothes are cool and unique. a lot of my wardrobe was purchased at the DI and other various thrift stores. among my favorite bands are regina spektor, beirut, edward sharpe and the magnetic zeros, arcade fire, florence and the machine, foster the people, and others. in fact, my music is so diverse and “indie” that i’ve been called the “music guru” by plenty of friends. i own the fake horn-rimmed glasses and wear them on occasion. and i even drive a suburu.

but i can’t call myself a hipster anymore. coming to BYU, only to find that everyone is trying to be a “hipster” because that is what is cool and “in”, the uniqueness i once strived to keep up had been ruined for me.

i came to BYU hoping to find cool people that liked the same stuff as me. good music, good fashion, good culture. that is what i had always been in to and that is what i wanted to find. i thought i found them. i thought they were cool and easygoing, laid-back and fun to be around. i was right. for a little bit.

apparently if you don’t wear cool clothes, listen to the music no one else has heard of, or appreciate the cultural things in life, a friendship with these people wasn’t likely. i was a little disappointed. i did wear cool clothes and i did listen to cool music. i had already been doing this since high school. why wasn’t i feeling like i was good enough to hang out with these people. and then it hit me. why not try harder?

i spent more money than i wanted to at the DI, buying clothes i wasn’t sure i was going to wear. luckily, i liked most of my purchases and found a way to alter them, make them fit to my liking. i already had the music down. i felt my musical knowledge was more than superior. everyday i tried to be someone that i wasn’t. i tried until i couldn’t try any more. apparently it wasn’t enough.

but then i realized, why am I even trying? i’ll never be “hipster” enough for them. i already have great friends who accept me for who i am. they like me for me, and not just for my cool clothes and good music. they are the friends who have gotten to know me.

friends i can feel normal around.

friend i don’t have to feel shy around.

friends i can tease.

friends i can laugh with.

friends who are there for me when i get locked out.

friends who understand me when i quote youtube videos and movies like hot rod and nacho libre.

friends who understand my spa-ren-glish (spanish/french/english).

friends who understand me even when i just don’t quite make sense.

friends who don’t judge me for my absurd outfit choices or the “art” i create with my food at the cannon center.

friends who put up with my immaturity.

i tried to feel these ways around my “new BYU” friends, but i sort of felt like i didn’t even get the chance. but at the same time i feel like they didn’t get the chance. they didn’t get the chance to get to know me, to see who i really am. so who cares if i still hang out with my high school friends, they’re the ones i’d rather have.