Hipsters
have received bad press in recent months, blamed for gentrification, poverty
and a rash of beard oil shops in East London. Here I attempt to put the record
straight, and ask, from the perspective of subcultural analysis, what exactly
are hipsters all about, and should we be quite so mean to them?
Hipsters,
subculture and the Cereal Killer Café
Anyone who lives in East London, as I used to until very recently,
will be familiar with the term hipster, the (normally male) figures of the
shaped hairstyle, unkempt beard, plaid shirt and tight trousers, serving coffee
or being served coffee. There are variations on the theme, but that’s the
stereotype. What is remarkable is the degree of hostility they attract. Hipster
is a term of derision, spoken of with a curl of the lip and a roll of the eye.
It is, as Michael Gosse points out in an essay called Creative Bodies: Hipsters, Clothing and Identity, a label applied
by the out-group and not one adopted by the subculture.
Until recently, this abject hatred was no
more than a matter of rhetoric, and then the Cereal Killer Café in Whitechapel
was at the receiving end of an aggressive protest declaring that the good
people of the East End were saying they had no right to exist. Their crime?
Setting up a small business that sold over 120 types of cereal from around the world
for up to £4.40 (for a large bowl). That, and looking like hipsters. It was
enough to declare them deliverers of gentrification, responsible for oppressing
the poor of the East End.
It didn’t help their cause that they were
unapologetic about their inability to single-handedly eliminate poverty from
the East End, just as one might expect from two self-proclaimed working-class
blokes from Belfast making good. The liberal or conservative middle-classes
never have forgiven the lack of sentimentality and guilt with which
working-class people think about poverty, making money, and ostentatious
displays of affluence.
So Class War, presumably inspired by a
hatchet job from Channel 4 News, which had made the Café a target, organised a
protest against gentrification. As Gary
Keery (one of the founders) said on Facebook about Symeon
Brown’s (from Channel 4’s News) reportage of their
opening day on the 12th December 2014:
And of course, as Gosse reminds us, the original hipsters were a ‘working-class anti-establishment movement’ living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York in the early 2000s. What I'm saying, therefore, is that hipsters don't all have to be middle-class gentrifiers.
Anti-gentrification protest
And what of the protesters? They got outed
in the gutter press for being a selection of ‘middle-class academics’. That’s
probably not very fair, as you can still find working-class people in academia
though sightings are increasingly rare. There is something unusual though about
anti-gentrification protests. Heather Horn, writing in the Atlantic,
looked at research from the US, which suggests that anti-gentrification
protests are not led by long-term residents or the poor, but the first wave of
gentrifiers. Their purpose? To try and hold onto the ‘symbols’ the
neighbourhood they moved to, whether that is a strong working-class or an
ethnic identity, which gentrification threatens to sweep away. It is itself a
search for authenticity and inclusion, albeit a doomed one, since they will be
swept away ultimately by finance capital.
Their anger is not necessarily shared by
‘native’ populations. The Economist
argues that the effects of gentrification do filter through to existing
populations and is welcomed, though we could question their stance because it is,
after all, the Economist. We should celebrate hipsters as they bring jobs and
money into an area, they say. Sensible voices have said that problem is not
neighbourhood improvement, but the skewed nature of the housing market that
makes improvement and wealth feel like an assault on identity. Of course, if you
are lucky enough to have owned a house in the gentrifying area, the general
trend is to pocket the money and retire to Essex like you’ve wanted to for
twenty years.
Although…I do like Sarah Schulman’s laments
on the closure of mental space or accommodations of wild differences that
occurs with gentrification, explored in her book The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination.
Folk
devils and moral panics
Back to hipsters and how much people
dislike them. One wonders whether the originators of such venom remember the
history of youth subcultures? Subcultures were never anti-capitalist per se.
They could be about a whole range of cultural symbols: social change or social
accommodation. This ambiguity always meant they attracted criticism, with few
exceptions, from the ‘political left’ for not being radical enough and
distracting attention from the cause of revolution, while simultaneously being
targeting by the media and right-wing opinion for their cultural difference.
Remember the concept of ‘moral panics’?
But subcultures are not always a point of
resistance. They channel and amplify aspects of contemporary culture, in a way
that parodies, finger points, and consequently alarms. Ethnographers, in response,
set about the task of getting inside a culture to empathetically reveal their
meaning and purpose. Rather than making bogus claims about hipsterism being a
Trojan horse for gentrification, perhaps we should try and do the same.
So what do they represent?
The
search for ‘authenticity’
Hipsters are often referred to as having
‘style over substance’ or prioritising cultural assemblage over radical
statement. In other words, they put clothes before ideas, and it’s all a pose.
Like most youth cultures, however, hipsterism is characterised by a search for
authenticity. It is about finding a way to live among all the noise of
consumerism, the media, and the overworked ‘bullshit’ economy.
In an ethnographic study of so-called
hipsters in Union Square and Williamsburg, Brooklyn, Sarah Oquendo
argues that hipsters are both impossible to define, despite visual
similarities, and actively resist definition. They seem driven by a quest for
authenticity, and perhaps are savvy enough to try and resist imposed
representations (from the media, who, as Stan Cohen pointed out, do as much to
shape notions of subculture as the participants themselves). Much of the
conscious struggle of the ‘hipster’ is with this search for authenticity and a
tense re-examination of identity in a media and digital age.
Of course, the search for authenticity
looks very much like fakery, and always will, precisely because we can never
achieve authenticity. Authenticity, or a desire to get beneath the surface,
assumes that we can access a self outside of the conditioning or context of our
society. We, of course, cannot. But, the very act of seeking a ‘true self’ is
transformative, in so far as it precipitates social or cultural change by
pointing out a contradiction in a visually compelling form. The hipster,
therefore, tells us much about our society just by absorbing the details of
their clothing and culture. So what can we learn from it?
Politics
is dead
Hipsters represent the irrelevance of political
life. They do this by congregating in and colonising, small urban spatial
zones. Think Portlandia (the satirical comedy series), Williamsburg (Brooklyn),
Hoxton, Shoreditch, Dalston and Chatsworth Road. Think the interpellation of
the hipster café. Living in a hipster zone is a statement of mistrust about
contemporary democracy. It is not possible to live anywhere and find acceptance
and tolerance. Instead, we huddle in small zones of cultural safety. By
creating zones of hipster culture, it is also possible to keep out the
misunderstanding of wider society. In short, hipster culture is saying ‘we
don’t need you,’ ironically of course.
Embracing
‘alternative’ consumption
Portlandia made jokes about people who
lived out of bins as part of a radical statement about lifestyle. It is
probably true to say however that hipsters are much more at one with consumer
culture. In the UK at least, the products of hipster culture are rarified and
middle-income expensive. Coffee and cake will set you back £5 or more, for
example, as opposed to the £2 in London Portuguese and Italian cafes (and
hipsterism doesn't embrace ethnic diversity, though it is not devoid of diversity,
like many subcultures). The consumer products are home made, home spun, wrought
of wood and organic cotton, a cottage industry of high-priced goods. These
small businesses are started by hipsters, and they are the alternative
entrepreneurs in the hipster zones described above. It is at once a statement
against high growth high waste economies, and a rejection of the myth of
economic cleanliness of more radical subcultures (who always embraced profit
when they came of age because a person has to eat). Hipsterism isn’t
middle-class, but it is aspirational.
Henry Alford, writing for the New York Times, takes an
amusing look at hipster culture in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, by becoming one for
a short while. While there is much to poke fun at, he also points out its
positive attributes:
“I like this generation of young folk. Their food is
terrific, and they find even the most insignificant things “awesome.” I admire
their adventuresome quality vis-à-vis fixed-gear bike-riding and their
non-prudishness in the face of nudity. Yes, their attention to detail on the
fronts of locavorism and beard care can verge on the precious, but I’d much
rather have a young Abe Lincoln serve me his roof-grown mâche than I would have
an F. Scott Fitzgerald vomit all over my straw boater. Today’s twentysomethings
are self-respecting, obvi…If every youth movement says as much about the status
quo as it does about itself, then this new eco-conscious, agrarian-seeming,
hair-celebrating nexus of locavorism is maybe telling us that the rest of us
need to plunge our fingers into the rich loam of the earth, literally and
metaphorically.”
The artisan string and wood carved objects
are sensual and speak to a desire for uniqueness and quality over
mass-consumption. Go into any hipster artefact shop and it will delight the
senses. I wonder if it increases our attachments to consumer objects or simply
enhances a more – perhaps unwelcome - relationship to the world of things? The
mass production of things under capitalism has an ironic side effect of making
us careless about material objects, which has both an ascetic and a wasteful
side to it.
The
networked economy
Hipsters are almost the living embodiment
of Richard Florida’s description of the new creative class. Industries of the
creative economy abound in hipster zones, all flashing glass and hot-desking.
Yet it is probably right to say that, in many ways, the hipster embodies what
Paul Mason and others refer to as the new freelance and networked economy. Wood
hewn pens sit alongside shiny Apple products. A restless generation, separated
from work security, sits in cafes hammering out research, reports, digital
content, design, and other ephemera of the new economy. Freelancing and small
business are always seen as the enemy of progress, and the unions constantly
strike deals to eliminate it. In many ways, though, freelancing is a lifestyle
choice, a bid for freedom and independence. It is, like political choices, a
turn away and under. Money is sacrificed for liberty. How dangerous and
culturally challenging is a generation unaccustomed to the normative and
disciplinary influence of workplaces?
Gentrification
as ‘normal service resumed’
Hipsters are mere symbols of
gentrification, a cycle of the valorisation of free or lost urban zones that
eventually get turned over to capital. They, with their free roaming
entrepreneurialism, take advantage of regeneration, as do all parts of the population,
if they can. Can they be said to be the winners, though?
Take a trip back to Sharon Zukin’s work on
gentrification, or even Jane Jacobs in 1962, and we see that the only winners
are international finance capital who use cultural entrepreneurs to create
value, only to eject them when no longer needed. They are the ones who
introduce real cultural uniformity, and eventually signal the inevitable
decline of an area. Note the endless discussions about the emptying out of
central areas of London. Where does that end, do you think?
Hipsters make a buck along the way, or
sometimes more, but then they move on. In many ways, hipsterism is a parody of
this process. It’s a parody because the shiny glass buildings of finance
capital sit alongside artisan string. Expensive suits sit alongside straggly
beards. It’s a funny kind of capitalism.
In
conclusion, I think we should be less hard and more
observant. Hipsters, like all previous subcultures, are telling us something
about our society, and our cities, whether they know it or not.
A good read!
ReplyDeleteThanks Paul.
DeleteVery interesting Deborah - I'm going to show my friend Max who seems to hate them with a venom!
ReplyDeleteMaybe remind him hate is really not good for the old blood pressure...
Delete