Results tagged “clairvoyance” from Overlooked
The New Wave of the Future-Past.
Here's one: at the end of this past September, I had a crystal clear vision of yet another hipster fashion trend to come: saddle shoes. However, because I am lazy (or is it just typical hipster indifference?), my prediction post went unwritten, and according to Hard Liquor, Soft Holes, it seems I have been scooped. Curses!
(Just so you know, I was hep to this groove, man--and I had a timestamp to prove it. Now I'm the last one to leave the party, just like Pauly Shore.)
However, despite my tardiness, I still maintain that over the coming months, saddle shoes will become even more prominent in hipster populations. First and foremost, there is the huge (huge!!) nostalgia factor--everything old is new again (see: USB mixtapes, Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Reebok high tops). For those of us who weren't lucky enough to have them the first time around, owning saddle shoes as an adult can be perceived as ironic (though is that in the standard way or the Alanis Morrissette way? I can never tell): this particular footwear epitomizes youth culture--not only in the classic 1950s, rosy-cheeked, sock hop sort of way, but also in the more accessible "the identical twins in my fifth grade class each had a pair of these but I never did and I was SO. JEALOUS." way that is so very integral to hipsterdom today.
On a more practical level, however, saddle shoes are totally the perfect accessory to your (sub)urban lifestyle. Not only does their supple and durable leather mean that you're completely protected from even the most perilous of PBR spills, but you're also ready to take it to the bowling alley at any given moment (even if it's only the Wii version). And finally, what better way to concretize that old-tymey spirit than with a shoe that is so comfortable, you'll be able to trudge through waist-deep snow, uphill both ways--at the peril of being consumed by brontosauri and T. rexes--just to get to school and earn that education!
So, all you hipsters, because I'm late on this one, the next time I go tromping about the Burg, I expect that you'll all be decked out in your finest saddle shoes and I'll do some recruiting for my new gang. But you'd better get your applications in early because word on the street is we're getting Members Only jackets next year. You heard it here first.
Just make sure nobody spills PBR on you
I'm not sure what the kids are up to these days, what with their fancy portable video game consoles and expensive cell phones, but back in my time, we had a calling. And that calling was to be the sole purveyor of addictive confectionary treats that were only available for a few months out of the year.
For one glorious month during first grade, I joined the ranks of those prized citizens known only as the Girl Scouts. It was a whirlwind of badges and after-school meetings and sit-upons. As previously mentioned, I was a shy child (that's right, Steve, I'm calling you out again!), and it was nice to be a part of a social group. However, as was often the case with much of my hypoglycemic childhood, things were about to take a dark turn.
It all started with the stupid dance badge. I was timid and didn't want to dance, and yet I still wanted the badge. Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was, for I never received said badge, a fact which my injured six-year-old self has never forgotten. But this was not incentive enough to quit (though nor was it incentive enough to try harder in manner of countless movies centered around underprivileged youth for whom dance is their only outlet).
No, that incentive came perhaps a week later, following that year's cookie sales. Aimee, one of my fellow Girl Scouts, one of the sisters, made fun of me for only having sold cookies to my family. I'm pretty sure it was that very day that I packed it up and told my mother I didn't want to go back. As a practical and un-soccer-mom-like mother, she had no objections and asked few questions (the cookies were already ordered anyway: her sweet tooth was guaranteed sustenance for at least the next few months).
It is for these very traumatic reasons that I prevent the newest Next Big Thing in hipster fashions: The Girl Scout Sash. I'm sure there are scads and scads of twentysomethings who are still trying to get over their scouting days, and what better way to do that by embracing the very thing that caused you pain in the first place? Furthermore, the Girl Scout Sash is fully customizable: it can be decorated with the normal badges (I can finally have that dancing badge after all!) or with all manner of ironic buttons.
Remember, hipsters: if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!
Keep in mind - the more necklaces you wear, the more indie you are
About the time when girls were bringing Caboodles makeup cases to sleepovers and wearing slap-wrap bracelets, best friends everywhere finally found the perfect avenue with which to express their devotion: the Best Friends Necklace.
Two half-heart pendants that when put together form a single heart, the best friend necklace was the elementary school equivalent of a wedding ring. It bonded you and your best pal for the entirety of that school year (at least!) and it let others know to back off - you were taken. A shy and withdrawn child ever since Steve B. pulled up my skirt in kindergarten while I was handing out snacks to the other students (you hear that, Steve? I'm publicly outing you!!), I in particular felt the sting of not having a best friend with whom to share the necklace, which in my mind was the ultimate declaration of friendship.
Based on my experience, which I'm sure was one shared by many, I would like to state here today my theory for the Next Big Thing in fashion: the resurrection of the Best Friends Necklace. Given the hipster tendency towards irony and the fact that true hipsters are traditionally characterized by a sense of alienation from society, I can see few other more perfect means for them to display not only the omnipresent love of nostalgia, but also, if you were to wear both halves of the necklace at once, the sentiment of being perfectly outside society!
Just remember, when they start selling them at Urban Outfitters, you heard it here first.
