Strollerderby : hipster

I Want "Baby's First Year" Paper Dolls

Adrienne Martini — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 16:00:00 GMT

I'm both attracted and repulsed by the Pregnant Paper Dolls.

At first, it seemed like a minor sign of genius. And I was seconds away from buying 4 dozen just to have on hand for showers, birthdays and weddings.

Then I got a closer look at some of the outfits, where mom-to-be goes from a skinny hipster to a round bride and a schleppy new mom. Which isn't untrue, I guess. But aren't paper dolls supposed to be aspirational rather than realistic? I mean, when I was 42-weeks pregnant in the middle of a July heatwave, the last thing I wanted to play with was an accurate representation of how I felt.

That's if I could have gotten my swollen fingers to work well enough to cut them out.

It just strikes me as more fun -- and a better sales tool -- to give a new mom a fantasy to indulge in, rather than a glimpse of the sweatpants to come. Maybe that's just me -- and you are all skinny hipsters ready to get your mitts on this book.

Are You Raising a Douchebag?

Madeline Holler — Mon, 03 Dec 2007 23:06:00 GMT

Details and GQ magazines’ blog recently asked a question that truly winds up concerning parents only with regard to the offspring of others: “Are you raising a douchebag?”

But instead of providing a convenient checklist which will (1) make me laugh and (2) reassure me that the answer is “no,” the article winds up being yet another article on hipster parents. Sigh. Is it really so wrong to prefer Pumas to a bleached-white pair of kicky Keds?

Anyway, let’s focus on the fun part. Kids who are douchebags! Here’s how to know, according to the author:

"If it's your child, not you, who gets to choose your weekend brunch spot, or if he's the one asking how the branzino is prepared, it's probably time to take a hard look at your own behavior." (Blush. I don't think I know what a branzino is.)

"If your kid can tell which Ramone is Dee Dee and which one is Joey."

If your kid can text message (yes, but so can my mother-in-law).

If your kid is/was pushed around in a "limited-edition Bugaboo stroller by Bas Kosters ($2,000), carrying a Louis Vuitton diaper bag ($1,380), and checking in at a members-only parenting club like Citi-babes in Manhattan (annual membership: $2,000), your offspring are probably developing some serious entitlement issues. Just read the news. The Wall Street Journal recently reported on the rise of sixth-grade "fashion bullies" who terrorize peers who don't wear Junior Dolce & Gabbana. Then there was the New York Times article on youngsters—4-year-olds!—who fancy themselves collectors of highly coveted works of art." (Hey, we covered that!)

"If your kids dress, speak, and appreciate Roxy Music just like us."

Really? That’s it? Haven’t we covered this before? I’m a bit old-fashioned – perhaps simpler -- and think you’re raising a douchebag if your kid, a second-grader that I voluntarily drive home from school several times a week, rips the sunshade off the car window, yells at you for not providing snacks for the 10-minute ride, and tells you that you have fat knees. (Am I myself a douchebag for mouthing “fuck you!” in the front seat?)

In the end, the author (quoting Babble editor-in-chief Ada Calhoun) warns against trying to raise a child in the image of ourselves. Good advice, because boy would my kids have potty-mouths while also not know what in the hell a branzino is.

Ultimately, the question is whether we, as parents, are douchebags. Eh. I kind of doubt it, but I have been called worse. Just shut up about my fat knees!

Photo: men.style.com

Cupcake Jealousy or Neal Pollack's Wife Rocks

Mike Adamick (Cry It Out!) — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 14:58:00 GMT

As if there's not enough reason to dislike Regina Pollack, what with her ability to have sex with Neal "AlternaDad" Pollack" any time she pleases, now there's this: She's got skillz.

Mad. baking. skilz.

In this Epicurious blog post, Neal displays the creations of his "Hipster Homemaker" and I've got to say, I'm jealous. Deeply, insanely jealous. The cake shark? The cake whale? Call me Jonah and put on a bib, because I'm eating my way out of that one.

The truth is, I've always harbored a little cupcake jealousy. My cupcakes come out flat and slanted, not puffy and delicious. And when I think about someday baking these deformed creatures for my daughter's classroom, well let's just say two words come to mind: Whole. Foods. (But not the vegan kind, because they taste like ass with icing.)

So when I see someone not only bake the perfect cupcake, but then also make it look like Frankenstein, well, then, it's on. You win this round, Mr. Neal's Martha. But wait till Round Two. I'm not sure what that entails exactly, but I'm sure it will be delicious.

What's your homemaker jealousy?

Maybe Your Child Can Be a World-Class Hipster

Kelly Mills — Wed, 29 Aug 2007 13:03:00 GMT

We've talked alot about how you shouldn't shove all your sporty dreams on your kid and enroll them in some year-round sport because it's not good for their bodies or their emotional development. But that was before the Hipster Olympics. Now that I know about this, I'm scrutinizing my kid the way the East Germans used to, looking for the classic signs of disaffection and ennui that mark a true competitor. She also hates Prince, which I did not believe was possible and may be a nascent sign of hipsterosity. Clearly we have fallen short in the ironic t-shirt training, but I'm hoping she'll be scouted by one of the bored kids that hang out at the dive bar/tapas place near our house and be awarded a scholarship. And today she actually rolled her eyes and muttered, "Whatever." I'm trying not to get teary here, but I may just have a gold medalist on my hands.

Check out the Hipster Olympics and see if your kid has a shot at living the dream. If you miss something, there's always the American Apparel instant replay.

Alternadad: Not So "Alterna"?

JasonAvant — Tue, 13 Feb 2007 12:28:00 GMT

As the Mommy Wars give way to the "Hipster Parent" Global Conflagration (surely, it's no coincidence that so many pieces on "Hipster Parents" include references to Franz Ferdinand - really, haters, you expect us to let go of irony?), much ado has been made over a book entitled Alternadad, by one Neal Pollack. I'm over the ado, but I thought this review of/meditation on the book and the Somme River-esque battles being waged over its merits was worth mentioning. Michael Agger is a bit late to the front, but he brings a take on the book that's thus far been ignored by many reviews. (Full disclosure: he also mentions Babble, and gives a nod to DaddyTypes and some site called - hang on while I check the spelling - Metroid. Wait, sorry - MetroDad, by one "Pierre Kim". Sounds like a nom de plume to me.)

In the piece, Agger points out that once one gets past the arguably awkward cover, Pollack's tale becomes strikingly, well, normal. And lost in the furor over this notion of who qualifies as an "alternaparent" are some very real issues that make up the core of the story; the fact that despite a slight shift in dress code and mores, dads today face the same challenges that dads throughout the ages have faced. How do I put food on my family table? How do I keep a roof over our heads? How do I care for my kid when he's sick? How much of my pre-child self will change, and how much will stay the same?

Seems to me, just as it did when I reviewed the book over a month ago, that those are the issues that are worth discussing. As Agger puts it, "the difference between an alternadad, a banker dad, and a soccer dad is ultimately aesthetic and pointless."

"Hipster" - A Dirty Word Now and Then. But Why?

Alisyn — Sat, 10 Feb 2007 23:34:00 GMT

"Hipster."

It’s a dirty word. Especially when used to describe a parent. In fact, to some, the word “hipster” is synonymous with the word “douche bag.”

Originally, the term was coined in the 1940s, and used to refer to the jazz music subculture and those who identified with it. In the 1950s, its definition grew to include the Beat generation. In the 1960’s, “hipster” morphed into “hippie” and all that that encompassed. And in the 1990s, it morphed back to “hipster”, and was used to describe those whose interests were devoted to vintage fashion, and independent music and film.

Lately, “hipster” is being used in conjunction with “parent” - frequently. It’s being used to ridicule and dismiss those of us who have the gall to think that we have the right to maintain our disinterest in pop culture, and engage our sense of humor and independence, while raising our children.

And we are supposed to be offended by this.

Babble and Strollerderby, and those of us who are proud to be a part of it, have been garnering our fair share of (negative) press lately, for being a hipster parenting hangout. For being a place where parents can come to read about, and discuss topics that, before our generation, were considered taboo: sex after babies, how hard marriage and parenting really are, how kids can wreak havoc on your life, and how to maintain a happy self while being at the beck and call of a tiny person with huge needs. We’ve come under fire for passing our love of indie rock and art films down to our kids. We’ve been dissed for dressing our kids in black, and ourselves in Converse. We’ve been slammed for being foul-mouthed “grups”.

Again – this is supposed to offend us.

Throughout its existence in our common lexicon, the word “hipster” has been used in reference to the forward thinking, non-mainstream, counterculture of society: those whose beliefs are less traditional, and more enlightened; those who are less inclined to let popular culture dictate who, and what, they are supposed to be; those who refuse to succumb to a life that is thoughtless and thoroughly average. Its meaning, and usage, is no different today. It’s still a word that is supposed to be an insult - used with disdain and contempt by those who think that what is good enough for them, should be good enough for all of us - but is actually, quite the opposite. The original hipsters, those who brought the American counterculture into the mainstream, were people like Miles Davis, Andy Warhol, Martin Luther King, Jr., Angela Davis, Gloria Steinem and The Beatles.

Our heroes.

Our supposed counterparts - those “traditionalists” who believe that becoming a parent (especially a mother) means putting the kids’ needs before our own at any cost, and submitting to a life of self-sacrifice and media-sanctioned consumerism – seem to think that those of us who were called “freaks” for going to punk shows and tattoo parlors in our early years, will somehow take it to heart when they call us “grups," “douche bags” and "hipsters" now. They believe that by defining us as the opposite of them, they have proved their success.

What they don’t understand is that the more they try to exclude us – and our rock-concert-going, funky-baby-naming, “ironic” t-shirt-wearing ways – the more we thrive. The more they isolate and insult us, and our sensibilities, or preferences, or whatever you want to call them, the more secure in them we become. They didn't like us then, and they don't like us now, and honestly? We don't give a shit. Because "different" does not mean "bad", and labels do not make a person. We know that. Why don't they?

I have a blog, kids and a sense of self that goes beyond my status as a wife and mother, so, by its current connotation, that makes me a hipster parent. I choose to take that as a compliment. Because those of us who don’t conform to what previous generations deemed acceptable, normal and “right,” are the ones paving the way for the next generation to be able to stand up and say “no – I’m going to walk my own path.” That generation is our children – my children. Equipping them with the confidence and self-awareness that they'll need to stand up to those who say that they way they choose to live their lives - as teens, young adults and, eventually, parents - is wrong, is what I'm trying to do.

So you can insult me all you want - call me names, stereotype me, place value judgments on me, my life, and my kids. But I'll always be a proud "hipster." Does that offend you?

Good.

Grups, Hipsters, Trendsters, Xers: Label Me, Label You, Uh Huh

Rachael Brownell (Redsy) — Mon, 05 Feb 2007 16:17:00 GMT

Z Recommends has a thoughtful post about Lisa Carver's review of Neal Pollack's Alternadad (you can read Neal's response here), in which he points out that blogs with an edgy, cynical, or ironic take on parenting seem to dominate the mommy and daddy blogosphere. Reading the sniping comments on the Pollack and Carver pieces, you'd have to conclude that parents today -- at least those who are blogging and commenting -- are a bunch of angry, labeling, cliquish malcontents.

The labels thrown around with the most vitriol seem to be those associated with the likes of Babble, including "hipster," "grup," and "trendy." Some of those labels are well-deserved, but as with all labels they tend to over-generalize and foreshorten real dialogue and debate.

In her piece summing up the Pollack/Carver debate, Babble editor Ada Calhoun concludes wisely that "the irony label (like "grup") is dismissive and cheap...and the rush to cry "hipster" undermines the opportunity to talk about what's thrilling and funny and lonely and scary about having kids."

I've been overwhelmed at times by pressure to be cool and clever while writing for Stroller Derby, but when I succumb to that, I miss the point. Babble contributors are everyday people experiencing parenting. If we swear and drink more than the average bear, than so be it. But if we could all drop the labels and get along, wouldn't this just be one hell of a lot more fun?