We all see the non-local kids walking around campus, seemingly disjointed from the “youth culture” in Richmond at the moment. If you watch carefully, you may see them take a puzzled glance at a native dude with long green painted fingernails and Kurt Cobain style sunglasses. If you are REALLY lucky and observant, you may just see the local slide his sunnies down to the tip of his nose and provide a menacing wink to the trespasser (in their eyes), causing their jaw to drop wide open.
We all want to be that beautiful Richmond hipster who gets asked to model for American Apparel and does septum piercings in their basement on the weekends for $20 a pop. Or you could just trade them a case of homemade Kombucha and they will be ready to stab your nose. Where is the Richmond fountain of cool? Is it located in a gutter behind Strange Matter? Or maybe in the sink drain of Dutch and Company in Church Hill? I imagine if this said fountain of cool exists, the water is bright green with holographic glitter and feels gelatinous to the touch. I am about to provide you with the steps I think the fountain of cool would supply you with, if it does indeed exist.
To start, fix your attitude. All you need to care about if you’re a Richmond hipster is the intricate placement of your floral tattoos, the status of the inventory of your American Spirits at Clay Street Market and which essential oils you need to buy at Ellwood Thompson’s next to mix perfumes to sell on your lawn on Saturday mornings. Got it? So nothing matters at all in life except those three things plus the fact that your friend’s local band just released an EP that sounds like literal racket.
Next, we’ll move on to dress. If your pants aren’t rolled up at the bottom about an inch and a half so everyone can see your plain white socks, then what are you even doing? Also, the shirt you’re wearing better be from a band you’ve listened to once while dropping acid so you really don’t know what they sound like. If the shoes you have on aren’t loafers stolen from your grandfather’s closet, they should be considered as toxic and avoided at all costs.
Free time is next on the agenda. Say you want to go on vacation, you think you’ll just pull up good ol’ Internet Explorer and type in “places to stay in blah blah blah,” but you’re wrong. You have to get an app called “Air bnb” and stay in some creeper’s house on the beach for $80 a night for you and your four friends. I think that app truly raises the question of where is the owner/renter of the house or apartment? Are they hiding in the basement listening to your conversations munching kettle corn? I’ll go with maybe.
If you’re at home for the weekend, you have to go to a sketch “house show” in some random person’s rat infested apartment with a bunch of high people you think you saw in Rumors once but can’t exactly remember. “Maybe they work there?” your mind continues to torture you as you stare at their septum ring glittering under the red light. Now if you’re feeling a little bit spendy, hit up a show at Strange Matter, the Camel or the Broadberry and dance with people who are older than you and obviously cooler, but you chose to talk to them anyway because of the new-found confidence your tattoo of Abe Lincoln has given you because he freed the slaves, you know?
Moving on to food and drink. To get drunk, PBR is the slow, painful way to do it. And make sure you leave your cans on the floor of wherever you are and crush it so some fellow beatnik can snap an iPhone shot of it later and post it to Instagram with the caption “Me rn.” To remain sober, the only acceptable drink is La Croix. That’s right, not Perrier or Aquafina Sparkling. But before drinking it, you have to pronounce its name wrong to your friends by saying it’s called “La Kwah” because it looks French and you’re so cultured.
This is only the beginning of your transformation into the most hipstery hipster Richmond has ever seen. Stay tuned for your next lesson to further complete your mission as a youthful inhabitant of Richmond.