Once upon a time in the East End of London. Not the real East End. The part that was as close to the City as possible. In the part that barely made it out of Zone 1 lived the Lonely Hipster.
His loneliness annoyed him. He couldn’t figure out why it was he was so lonely.
The more he tried to foster a unique and individual look for himself, in order that people would think he was cool, the more he ended up just looking like everyone else who stayed there.
He hated being surrounded by hipster clones, but there was no way out. No matter how much he tried to change it made no difference. The symbiotic, hive mind of the hipster just changed along with him.
One day he thought he’d broken free. He went to a normal high street clothes store and bought ‘normal’ clothes. But it didn’t matter. He walked home and he saw that this was now the new look. East End High Street Irony.
There is no escape. Once you turn hipster you can’t get out. Everyone thinks you are a twat. Other hipsters think you are a twat. Try to leave the hipster lifestyle and everyone thinks it’s an attempt to ram your hipster credentials down their throats. You can’t even deny that you are a hipster. The more you deny the more it reinforces in people’s minds that you are one.
The lonely east end hipster.
p.s. Top knots and scooters can fuck right off.