Hey ya’ll. No specific rant today, just an update on life and stuff.
One of the reasons I hate the job that I hate is because they’re so inconsistent with the roster. This week, I worked one day. Next week, I’ve only got one day off.
This afternoon was the annual giant market fest thing in my town, which was insanely busy. I like markets, but there’s a difference between a cool market where there’s interesting stuff and you’re able to haggle with stall owners, and what I call a ‘designer market’.
A designer market is a market that’s more or less just a shop set up outside. Everything has set prices and the good are very repetitive and kind of boring. Unfortunately, the annual market my town hosts is one of the later.
Speaking of designer markets, there’s a particular kind of shop which I like to call, designer hippy shops. They’re the shops where you can buy poor quality tie dye shirts and trippy jewellery for ridiculously expensive prices.
The older and more cynical I become, the more I find that it’s hard to come across something genuine. Like, “the real deal”. The band t-shirt you bought when you saw the band live on tour and not the one you scored on ebay. The awesome little café you stumbled across down the end of a lane way by accident, and not one that you looked up on trip advisor. The amazing album you bought off that band busking by the side of the road, before they became the international smash hit that you downloaded off iTunes.
I read books about the eighties and the nineties and it makes me feel a little bit sad inside, because I feel like a lot of the quirks of those eras have been lost. Things like mix tapes. I mean, I love mix tapes. It still seems like the coolest present you could give someone, a mix tape of songs you think they’d like. It just doesn’t feel like the same thing to put together a playlist for someone.
I love the idea of all those old classic bands who in their time were so huge, and are still huge today. I wonder if my generation will have anyone like that, a band that will be remembered in decades to come, rather then every artist getting their fifteen minutes of fame before disappearing into obscurity.
In other words, I’ve become a jaded old hipster.
Speaking of being a hipster,
I was thinking this morning about something that happened when I went shopping with friends a few months ago. We were wandering around a store, filled with clothing for teenagers. Brightly coloured slogan t-shirts and dresses with gaping holes in the back, stockings full of rips and skin tight jeans in wild patterns.
I looked around, and I remember thinking that once upon a time, I would have been so into this stuff. I couldn’t get enough of it. But all of a sudden, with a subtlety of change that I barely even noticed until it had happened, it just didn’t appeal to me anymore. I wasn’t the demographic anymore.
The same with internet slang. Maybe it’s because I never really got into tumblr and sites like that, but when I hear things like “#yolo” or “so many feels” or see things like memes and GIFS, I’m just not that interested.
It seems kind of silly. Sometimes silly is good, but I feel like I’m not a part of that world. Like I’m outside, looking in through a window display and not at all wanting to browse through the shop. Years ago, “lol” and “awkward turtle” dotted my speech and internet usage like sprinkles on a cake. But not anymore.
I feel like I’ve moved on from all that.
It’s a strange part of getting older. The realisation that you’ve outgrown something or that you’re not the intended demographic anymore.