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Win a Copy of Stuff Hipsters Hate!
Note: Our good friend and occasional contributor Brenna Ehrlich has written a book. And when our good friends and/or occasional contributors write books, we like to promote them. Make her (and her co-author Andrea Bartz) feel welcome!
Stuff Hipsters Hate, the nefarious blog-turned-book, serves as the perfect antidote to all this holiday cheer. (Oh yeah, and it makes a pretty good gift.) Penned by Andrea Bartz and mental_floss contributor Brenna Ehrlich, the tome documents the mating habits, philosophy, theology, grooming practices and preferred entertainment of the modern-day hipster—complete with helpful graphs and charts to help you understand the trendy beast. And we’ve got a copy to give away! More on that in a minute; first, some of our favorite hipster objects of less-than-affection:
Wearing Socks With Sneakers
Doesn’t matter that your shoes will end up smelling like the inside of a frat boy’s dorm room trash bin one week after purchasing the suckers—you should never wear socks under your Keds, Vans or Chucks (although Chucks are totally out, so that’s a moot point anyway). Hipsters wear their blisters like a badge of freaking honor, their fallen arches a testament to their rejection of mainstream, sock-wearing society. If a hipster ever deigned to enter a salon, I would pity the poor woman charged with executing a pedicure on those mangled and marinated toes.
Bros and Trixies
It could be said that the biggest haters of hipsters are Bros and their female counterparts, Trixies. Well, the feeling—obviously—is completely mutual. If we take a trip back to “your formative years” (a.k.a. high school, a.k.a. the most scarring period of your life), it becomes clear why hipsters hate the Ed Hardy-wearing faction of the population.
Picture your high school lunchroom—see those kids over there at the popular table, the muscle-bound dudes shoving multiple sandwiches into the hole directly above their soul patches (bulking up for the Turkey Day game, no doubt), the girls with the flat-ironed hair listlessly picking at the tiny piles of Doritos scattered on their lunch trays? Those would be the future Bros and Trixies.
But where are the future hipsters? Well, they’re either in the corner of the library, reading The Chocolate War (again) or out in the parking lot getting stoned. And dollars to freegan donuts, the popular kids are not exactly kind to that girl over there wearing multicolored clogs or that dude with the pink studded belt.
And thus, a deep hatred is seeded within the hipster in question very early in life. A hatred strong enough that, when the hipster finally breaks free from the bounds of high school hell and comes to the city, where all the hipsters may frolic and roam free, they can finally retaliate against their old high school tormentors: the popular kids, who are now all tragically living in Murray Hill and carrying gym bags.
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For a shot at winning a copy of Stuff Hipsters Hate, channel your inner hipster and leave us a comedic rant about something you hate. (Keep it clean, people.) Andi and Brenna will pick a winner at random on Monday. If you need s’more inspiration, check out the blog that inspired the book, stuffhipstershate.tumblr.com.