A hipster: To be or not to be

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I was lamenting the abundance of hipsters at a Sydney pub recently when my sister accused me of being a hipster myself.

No way, I protested, hipsters are posers. Tattooed types who spend all day drinking craft beer and single-origin coffee.

Not so, she said, it was more a way of thinking: an organic, free-range, alternative-is-better-than-mainstream mindset.

Thus ensued a Googling frenzy to determine the definition.

"A subculture of men and women, typically in their 20s and 30s who value independent thinking, counter-culture, progressive politics, an appreciation of art and indie-rock, creativity, intelligence, and witty banter," says the Urban Dictionary.

Wikipedia adds that they are associated with "a varied non-mainstream fashion sensibility (including vintage and thrift store-bought clothes)", "organic and artisanal foods, and alternative lifestyles", and are often "affluent or middle-class young Bohemians who reside in gentrifying neighbourhoods."

Okay, I had to admit there were a few unnerving similarities there. I do appreciate creativity, intelligence and witty banter, but who doesn't?

Sure, I often wore my vintage shirt buttoned all the way up, and an inordinate number of my friends had beards, but I definitely didn't own a beanie or wire-rimmed glasses.

I liked the idea of eating free-range and organic (when I could afford it), and my boyfriend drank from a swappa-crate, but it was all for the environment, nothing so lame as an image!

"See, you are one!" my sister cried.

Apparently, by denying my hipster-dom, I was unwittingly admitting it, this being a key identifier, the internet claimed.

I will embarrassingly admit that two of my recent - now glaringly hipster - purchases, were probably more image than practicality.

The 70s SodaStream, in keeping with my vintage decor? A waste of time, taking three fills of a tiny glass bottle to procure just one glass of sparkling water. Back in with the boring white Briscoes model.

The Swedish three-gear bike (not fixed gear I might add), so pretty! So impractical, I had to borrow my boyfriend's mountain bike to ascend anything resembling a hill.

Since that enlightening conversation, I've accepted that to some degree I may be a little bit hipster. But if I am, then so is a large proportion of my generation.

The hippies of the 21st century, you might say - striving so hard to be alternative, that we've become mainstream.

I guess as subcultures go it's not the worst one to claim. But if I ever start caring more about the image than the ethics, it's time to pack up my vintage suitcase and go home.

- VIVA