Old vs. New

Listen, I watch HGTV and House Hunters and a LOT OF IT. I know I am going against all that is hipster by wanting a new house. I know that the cool thing to want is a turn of the century house with tons of charms and built ins and original flooring, etc. But you know what? I, unlike a lot of the people on that show, and unlike a lot of people who want an old house, have actually LIVED in an old house. Lots of them. My college was in the city, and all the surrounding neighborhoods were jam packed with those cute old-style houses. I lived in several of them. They were all varying levels of nightmare. 

First of all, no matter what you do, everything is always dirty in an old house. There is dust everywhere, all the time. Things that are supposed to be white are kind of brownish gray. The most notorious offender (which we called the haunted house because it looked like a children's drawing of a haunted house) had some kind of large mammal living in the walls and attic and it was NOT a rodent. This was a large hibernating mammal, like a black bear or something. My roommate had this weird panel on one of her walls and one day we decided to unscrew it and see what was behind it. There were about half a dozen stained pillows and wadded up blankets shoved behind there. We closed it back up and didn't ask any questions. 

 

I've seen roaches, maggots, hibernating bears, and enough mold and mildew for a gaggle of "property virgins" (HGTV joke har har). 

Now I know that normal grownups with a reasonable house-buying budget who are appearing on an HGTV show are not looking at the hell-holes that I lived in in college. But those memories have forever tainted my idea of "charming old world style".  And its not just limited to the naive college kids with no sense of living standards. A friend of mine just bought a cute and charming old house, only to realize upon move-in day that the floor of the attic was lined with COFFIN LIDS. 

So when we realized that our family of three plus two wild animals was just getting to be too much for this townhome, we decided to build anew. We did look at a few older houses here and there. One was gorgeous and perfect but overlooked a highway and a waste water treatment plant. One looked like it was haunted by the ghost of a dead hippie. There wasn't a single one we considered putting an offer on. In the end, we selected a very suburban two story colonial in a very suburban town, and you know what? We're fine with that. 

Hippy Shoes

If there is anything that I love more than putting shoes on the feet of poor kids in developing countries, it's putting those same shoes on my feet so that I can look all hipster and philanthropist-y at the same time.

I've kind of ALWAYS been on a search for shoes that meet the following criteria:

• Are comfortable and heel-less
• Match casual outfits but can also be worn to go out

Of course, in the summer sandals are the answer. But what do I do in winter when i don't feel like wearing boots, tennis shoes, or heels? (I should also note here that I am vehemently against wearing tennis shoes with jeans). In fifth grade my answer to this eternal debate was bedazzled denim Keds, but now I'm at a loss. TOMS are the perfect shoe!

So when I decided to finally pull the trigger, I thought I was being all hipster and trendy. You don't really see too many people wearing TOMS in Pittsburgh yet. We are about two years behind on the trends here. I think Pittsburgh was also recently voted one of the (maybe #1?) most unstylish cities in America. The height of fashion here is a brand new Steelers Jersey. Wanna get even edgier? Wear a vintage-style Penguins t-shirt and cut the shoulders off. 

So I ordered a pair of the classic canvas in ash, but when they came in the mail, they were two different sizes. Strike one TOMS (or maybe it was Nordstrom's fault). So I had to ship them back and order a new pair. I'm incredibly impatient, and I really wanted to have them in my possession by this past weekend so that I could something comfortable to wear while walking around Chicago. So what did I do? I bought another pair in Nordstrom on Michigan Ave. Classic canvas in red. Because I'm honestly the most impatient person in the world. I also ordered a pair for Frank, because I thought he would look cute in them and maybe the TOMS energy would soak into his cells and he would become a more liberal voter? So I'm left with this:

PS. I added the "hipster" effect from my iphone photo app to really drive the point home ;)

I thought I was being super cool. But then I went to Chicago this weekend and seriously, 50% of the people I saw on the streets were wearing TOMS or something cooler. It was just the norm there. Oh well, at least I'm semi(?) cool in Pittsburgh? 

My Love/Hate Affair with Hipsters and Cupcakes

Let me introduce you to my boyfriend:

This is the most delicious cupcake I have ever eaten in my life. And I have eaten lots. I think my love of cupcakes stems from a longing for simpler times. Remember the times of elementary school birthday parties, with homemade funfetti cupcakes in cartoon character paper cups, with sloppy hand-spread frosting? Wash one of those babies down with an electric blue Huggie (which were oddly shaped like barrels, I still don’t get that) or a half pint carton of “orange drink” and that, my friends, is love in food form.

Lets fast forward about 18 years shall we, to present times. Now kids get organic apple juice and homemade granola bars for their birthday parties. People have tried to take the simplistic perfection of a cupcake and turn it into profit, adding things like vegan ingredients, just to justify charging $4 for a cupcake.

I fell victim to this scheme last weekend. We were out and about in a trendy little section of the city. All of a sudden, right in front of me, is a cupcake bakery. An entire restaurant that serves cupcakes! If they sold Miller Lite drafts, I would saddle up to this pony every night of my life!

Giddy, and a little bit turned on, I checked out the selection. Carrot cake cupcakes, mimosa cupcakes, black forest cupcakes. Where the hell were the funfetti cupcakes? The Duncan Hines chocolate frosting? The cupcakes with frosting shaped like Elmo heads with dangerous levels of food coloring? Whatev. I settled on a chocolate cupcake with a cream center and chocolate ganache frosting. It vaguely reminded me of a Hostess cupcake.

I was not impressed. The overly priced cupcake was incredibly dry and the frosting just didn’t do it for me. Never one to waste a grain of sugar, I took one for the team and finished the last bite. Nothing could cheer me up now. Until I heard the little bell on the door ding and in walked some grade-A hipsters. Bonus!

Me, trying to be hipster one time. Don't be jealous.

Now let me get one thing straight. I’m not hating on vegan, converse-wearing, indie-music loving kids. To tell you the truth, if I had to pick one stereotyped group to belong to, just for a day, it would be the hipsters. Sometimes I stare longingly at t-shirts with ironic sayings. I secretly pine for a tattoo, but fear the pain. I like to hang out at coffee shops and I’m pretty liberal. I usually end up having a crush on true hipsters. The problem is, there are so many imitation hipsters, that are really giving a bad name to the ultra-cool independent types.

So, in walks hipster chick (HC), squat little hipster boy (SLHB) and lanky awkward hipster boy (LAHB). I see the twinkle in my husband’s eye as he takes a sip of his organic free trade coffee. (My husband and I have the uncanny ability to have an entire conversation without saying a word. Before you throw up, I’m not talking about the sentimental “we’re so in tune with each others feelings,” kind of conversation. What I mean, is that we can look at a person and know exactly what each other noticed about that person right away. We can mock them, using only minuscule eye movements. One time, we judged an entire family inside of Walmart, for a full five minutes, with no words spoken between the two of us.)

SLHB orders first: I’ll have a scone and an organic birch beer.

(Oh, this is beginning magnificently.)

LAHB: I’ll have a coffee and a cinnamon roll.

(Not bad . . . )

HC: Do you have any vegan cupcakes?

(A smirk in the general direction of my husband. This is just so predictable.)

Cupcake lady: No, sorry. We just sold out of the vegan cupcakes.

HC: Ok well I’ll take a cream-filled chocolate cupcake then. And a diet coke.

Nothing is more glorious than the selective vegan. Those people that order the organic/vegan/free range whatever just because it sounds cool. But when it comes down to it, they will settle for something that is loaded with eggs, milk and a million other ingredients that were shamelessly stolen from animals. And I’m sure that diet Coke is loaded with all-natural ingredients. We continued to sip our coffee in glee as we listened to the rest of their conversation, the highlights of which include salvation army shopping, comparing skinny leg jeans and hating all things mainstream. Yawn.

About a year ago, I tried to be a vegan. I found a flyer from PETA, checked out their website and was disheartened when I learned about all the cruel ways that animals are treated. For two solid weeks, I had no animal products. Then, my sister in law grilled a steak, I caved in and have never looked back. Maybe some day I will try it again. I greatly respect those that are dedicated vegetarians and vegans. I am ashamed that I am not disciplined enough to succeed at it. But when you make a big show of shoving your ultra-cool veganism in the face of everyone else but don’t actually stick to your guns, I am going to laugh at you.