23 July 2011

A hipster stole my hat

Many wild acrylics have died to support my taste in fashion.

I love minkish, not-zebra, purple rabbit and any faux-fur fabric that looks like it never came from a happy living critter. I especially like it on hats.

Being chilly (and loving hats), I wore one of my favourites to the theatre last night. Being a city-fringe opening night, the audience was filled with reviewers after a free drink, actors without gigs and hipsters.

There are more hipsters at inner-city Melbourne independent theatre shows than at Marios or even at MIFF.  I remember a night at Red Stitch where there wasn't an ironic-scarf-free outfit in the house.

The hipster ratio was especially high last night. I know that because I was playing my new favourite foyer game: Hipster, fashion victim or cool? (Let me know if you want your personal result.)

There were far too many ironic fluffy jackets, cardigans, little-girl hair bows, stripey tights, ties that grandpa wore to work, 'really?' facial hair, faded denim, hoodies, scarfs, scarfs and scarfs.

I know that my hats can be worn with a sense of irony. I know that because hipsters have caught my eye, glanced at whatever Penguin classic I was reading and nodded like they knew I was listening to The Go-Betweens on my iPod touch.  But there's no irony in my taste.  My formative years are the 80s, so my eyes light up at the sight of cheap taffeta and shoulder pads. (My mother still comments on my past clothing combination choices, but she lives in Adelaide...) I'm really more fashion victim than cool.

Anyway, after grabbing my free drink and sandwich, I realised my hat was missing! It wasn't in row C, no usher had handed it in and I couldn't see it waiting lost and lonely on the floor.

So there is only one possible conclusion: A hipster stole my hat.

And they will be wearing it ironically with a knock off Alana Hill lacy frock, a genuine Crumpler bag and pair of two-tone Fluevog shoes. Or Levi 501s if the thief is a hispter chick.

Here is the only picture of the hat I could find. It is presented in ironic-sepia and worn with demim and a living cat.
If you see any hipster wearing a cheap-looking felt and not-bear hat with a hint of white cat fur, please slap them and get it back for me. In return, I'll let you share my free drinks at an opening night of your choice.

If the hipster protests, remind them that it's a cheap Jendi hat that I bought it in Canberra. Nothing ironic can be bought in Canberra.