Yuppie? Hipster? Yarpie. Yes, Yarpie.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more secure of who I am and what my needs are. I don’t like being uncomfortable. I like having a well-decorated, spacious apartment, comfortable bed, silky sheets, big screen HD tv, cable, art supplies, and art supplies, and art supplies, etc. Adam and I don’t live extravagently, but we have a nice standard of living. My point being is that when I look at us compared to others living in our neighborhoods, we’re quite yuppie-ish. Definition from wikipedia: “Yuppies (young urban professionals) is a market segment whose consumers are characterized as self-reliant, financially secure individualists.” I like the Starbucks, the luxury spa, and the newly opened health store here on Queens Blvd. These Yuppie places are opening up all along this major thoroughfare. As long major chains don’t start taking over, I’m cool with it. Well, then I began to compare myself to other self-proclaimed Yuppies and I don’t fit the bill. Then I thought Maybe I’m a hipster?

My natural reflex…Gag! No way. But I had to look the definition up in wiki. “In the 1990s and 2000s, the 1940s slang term hipster began being used in North American to describe young, well-educated urban middle class and upper class adults with leftist or liberal social and political views and interests in a non-mainstream fashion and cultural aesthetic. While definitions vary, the hipster scene is often associated with alternative music and “indie” culture ( independent rock and independent film), and other non-mainstream products, such as vintage clothing, 1970s-era vinyl records. In North America, hipsters may dress in a campy or ironic manner, in which retro 1970s-style sportswear is mixed with Salvation Army store clothing. The social scene in some major cities is centered in a gentrified downtown area where DJ clubs, fair-trade coffee cafés, and organic restaurants sit side-by-side with thrift stores and working class taverns.”

Hipster isn’t me because I don’t put the effort into pretending that I don’t care about my looks when I really do. A hipster will have really well-manicured bed-head, designer ripped jeans, and old school skateshoes. When I have bed-head, it’s because I haven’t brushed my hair in a day or two. Adam can attest to that. It can get scary. My ripped jeans are ripped at the bottom because I’m much too short for the regular hem length.  And old school skate shoes…I just wear my classic converse. My point here. I don’t care if you’re a hipster, but I care so that I’m not.

Not a yuppie. Not a hipster. Adam told me that “we’re yarpies.” Young Artistic Professionals. Perfect.

I guess I can go into a long diatribe about how we are all individual snowflakes and no one should be defined by a term. Well, let’s face it. In our world, in our culture, we need to define and compartmentalize to understand where we fit.