Paris as a Hipster

Stay with me here, folks. I realize that I might have lost a few already. Those who I have lost with my title most likely fall into two camps:

1. Those who ask: what is a hipster? You, my followers, are lucky enough that you have not yet been forced to grapple with the hipster phenomenon that is sweeping the world. According to my favorite definition on UrbanDictionary.com (which you probably have not heard of if you have not heard of “hipsters,” but hey, it’s not like Britannica defines this shit), a hipster is: "someone who thinks they are cooler than everyone else even though their clothes look like they come from the Salvation Army."

2. Those who think: “Patrick, you’re stupid. You were just in Berlin – hipster capital of Europe! Paris, with its leafy avenues, lofty works of art, and ladylike togetherness as a whole, is the antithesis of a dirty, smelly hipster!”

I understand everyone’s concerns. This post is risky, I know. But hear me out. Paris, the city of lights, love, and L’Enfant, is a hipster. And I hate it. Here’s why:

Point A. Paris doesn’t do anything. It just sort of stands around looking good. Like a well-cultivated hipster, Paris presents and image to the world that is finished and static. Construction above the Eiffel tower? Non, non, that would ruin l’skyline. Berlin was an absolute mess – cranes and scaffolding everywhere. But at least they were doing something.

Point B. Paris gets much more credit than it deserves. Like that hipster kid in weird sunglasses gently nodding his head to bad electronic music in the corner of a dark basement party who everyone is jealous of, Paris is overrun with AsiansAfricansAmericansAleutians oogling at Notre Dame, l’Tour Eiffel, and the Arc d’triomphe (France? A military triumph? Huh?) when these sights are really not any more amazing than those one could see in a whole list of other European cities that are less-visited.

Point C. Parisians are mean. Like hipsters, they keep to themselves. Perhaps they have good reason for this, but it’s still all about image. They’re not befriending (or acknowledging the existence of) that woman with BMI 30 wearing a Mickey Mouse shirt and eating fake gelato next to Notre Dame for a reason – they’re too cool.

Point D. Paris acts like it doesn’t care. This is actually an extension of Point C. Parisians act like they’re the coolest kids on the block, but if you didn’t have BMI 30 woman spending her money because she thinks you’re cool, you would have no money with which you could continue to pretend to be cool.

Nuff’ said. Sometimes, you just have to knock the hipsters back into their places.