When is a hipster not a hipster?

While I was in San Francisco recently, my friend Carolyn invited me to tag along to her friends’ party in Napa.


I was a tiny bit nervous about fitting in. Surely people who live in Napa must be way cooler than me, right? At a minimum, they would know lots more about wine.

I think I fit in OK.


We hung out in a charming home with a gorgeous backyard.


We drank blood orange margaritas through paper straws with mustaches. Everyone was nice to me even though I was a party crasher.


There were lots of tattoos. And topknots. A few fedoras. Skinny jeans and flannels. I started to feel at home, like I never left Brooklyn.

Everyone looked like a Creative Director or a typography expert or a vegan chef.

And then I learned that it was a costume party of sorts.

The theme? Hipsters.


No wonder they were so friendly and smiley. Damn fake hipsters!

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A&R, if you read this, thank you SO much for having me. It was a terrific afternoon! 



5 thoughts on “When is a hipster not a hipster?

  1. LAMarcom

    très cool.
    Great photos
    Made me smile over my coffee.
    Wish I had a mustache straw (and a margarita to go with it–they come as a set, right?)
    Years and years in the Navy, but never got a tattoo.
    Guess I wasn’t hip. 😉


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