The other day, my wife was picking our daughter up at her bus stop and, as she waited, she saw a lady pass by, dressed in a long green coat with a belt around the waist, wearing a hand-knitted toque, and a long multi-colored scarf, but she couldn’t get a look at her face. So, she was left with a troubling question:
Was she an old lady—or a hipster?
Hipsters, the über-hip group of 20-30 somethings who replaced the Emo phenomenon of the mid-2000s, can be identified easily: usually by their fashion sense, preferring vintage and thrift store inspired garb over the mass-produced consumer fashions from Walmart. (Also known as the opposite of me.)
They would resonate with Grandpa Gil from Trevin Wax’s Clear Winter Nights, who “sported a pair of glasses that looked remarkably en vogue—not because they were new but because he had worn them so long they’d come back into style.”
But, like any other fashion trend, they’re only riffing off of what’s come before.
The Christian hipsters are no different. They owe their fashion sense to several men from an earlier generation, but there’s one man in particular to whom they owe an enormous debt: