Don’t hate the hipster. The much mocked, sock-free chap who scoots around town on his gear-free bike with his razor-free chin in the air is changing the way we look at the world. He dresses like a pioneer-pilgrim with a big beard and rolled up denim because that’s what he is, and we have a lot to thank him for. He is reshaping our towns, shops, restaurants and brands for a generation sick of the mass produced and the mediocre. He is an ambassador for a new retail world, one that is stripped of fakery and corporate bullshit. The brands he loves emanate the very essence of what he stands for and he is never, ever seduced by marketing rhetoric and glossy advertising. At least, that’s the theory. Of course, as Peter York points out in his new book ‘Authenticity is a con’ it’s all fakery anyway, which is about as nihilist as saying ‘we’re all going to die anyway’. Absolutely true of course, but perhaps not very helpful.
The hipster, as all cultures before it, is simply the extreme expression of our new view of the planet. When punk pioneered its irreverent attitude to music, art and authority we did not need to stick safety pins through our nostrils to join, and ultimately enjoy, the powerful groundswell of change this reactionary culture brought us.
So far from being a just a quirky fashion subculture the hipster is spearheading the way the majority of us feel right now about our retail landscape. The hipster is Post Apocalypse Man (and woman, of course) that grew up after the financial crash, at its epicentre here in New York. To be precise, PAM was born in Brooklyn, just a few yards across the water from Wall Street, and spread quickly throughout our angry urban centres including Pearl District in Portland, Mission in San Francisco, Shoreditch in London, Fitzroy in Melbourne and Kreuzberg in Berlin.
Actually, the earliest sightings of the species just preceded the turn of the millennium. Perhaps he was born out of an impending sense of a new era emerging, but it was the crash that really launched PAM into the world. In 2008 we all knew things would have to change and PAM was there to take the helm and direct us towards a new landscape of aspiration.
New York’s PAM wants his local stores to sell local produce, he wants his clothes to be made in his own country, the place where denim was invented after all. He wants his beer to be brewed locally, preferably next door to the guy that fixes the fixie bikes and the barber shop that manages all the town’s beards. (And, of course, he wants his knives handmade by Cut Brooklyn too: http://www.22and5.com/the-knifemakers-tale/) A Trumptonesque retail utopia? Perhaps not. Look how swiftly the big brands have attempted to showcase their local credentials, their sense of community. Then consider how your own attitudes to the big supermarkets, burger and coffee chains have changed. However cynical you may be, do you not find yourself more attracted to limited editions, the artisanal and the bespoke, whether it be beer, bread, cheese, chocolate, coffee, handsewn leather goods or handmade bicycles? You think this is a coincidence?
There is pretty good evidence that locally produced food is better for you as well as the planet, but this misses the point. Buying locally made stuff gives us the warm glow that comes from investing in our own community, nurturing the very thing we have neglected for the last half century and seem to be rediscovering in the digital age.
PAM has revolutionised our bars and restaurants too. Barely a decade ago we were quite content with a mood lit, heavily tableclothed establishment with an encyclopaedic menu and an invisible kitchen. Not any more. PAM style spaces are stripped back with open kitchens and a focus on food rather than furnishings. Menus are getting shorter too, so short in fact that we are learning to love the set menu again. On a recent trip, after a terrifically on-trend dinner at the buzzing Bullerei restaurant in Hamburg, supercool TV chef Tim Malzer whisked me away to his Off Club. He passed me a menu that was blank apart from the words ‘Fuck Off’ tastefully printed in varnish onto the thick black paper. Was Tim trying to tell me something? Well yes, you get what you’re given here you see.
You can also thank PAM for the single dish restaurant (The Meatball Shop in New York, Johnny Casserole in Chicago, Cereal Killer Cafe and Blacklock in London etc) as well as for the meteoric rise of gourmet street food in all our major cities. PAM expects you to be an expert now and if it ain’t niche PAM just ain’t interested.
As I’ve said many times, trends don’t come from above, from big, clever, corporate think tanks: they are brewed inside us. As our aspirations and emotional needs twist and turn, then so does the world around us. So remember, when you next raise a single eyebrow behind the back of the hipster in the coffee queue as he asks about a particular bean’s provenance, this guy is changing the world for the better. He’s a goddamn hero.