It’s been a worrying time for urban, metropolitan centres everywhere. As Al-Qaida spreads its influence westward into the Maghreb and the bloodletting in Syria continues unabated, a more disturbing trend has been taking hold.

It’s getting harder to spot hipsters.
 
Instead of haircuts, it-bands, club nights and hype, now we have to rely on the shitness of people’s chat to suss out if they’re hipsters or not. Does that even make someone a hipster? I don’t know. It bothers me. The being a dickhead’s cool backlash has sent them underground.
 
The other day I was walking through East London and saw a boy and a girl in skinny jeans with hi-neck Docs and denim jackets. The relief! People still dress like they’ve walked out of that fucking Rihanna video! In a world spinning at 900 miles per hour, there’s still something to grab on to. Something real.
 
Thankfully though – or probably not, actually – we still have the hipster moustache. And grab on to it we will. Pulling it from side to side until only a bloodied filtrum remains.
 
Recently I saw a bloke dressed in a Bloomsbury Set suit with the bushiest, most Edwardian laissez faire capitalist moustache I’d ever seen. The same age as me. He pulled out a newspaper and flicked it open. Then he looked at me staring at him. “What?” his eyes said. Probably in quite a posh accent. Whort.
 
They keep appearing on buses, trains, everywhere. But why do people grow them? Honestly. Why?
 
The question won’t matter much longer. Today Daniel Lawlor won first place in the freestyle moustache category at the third annual national beard and moustache championships in Las Vegas. Just look at it. Like Field Marshal Haig dug jazz.
 
With Movember and the formal recognition of the hipster moustache in the mainstream, corporatist, Establishment media, there’s little life left in the HM. Facial hair’s going to go underground too. It’ll be even harder to spot hipsters, but at least the long reign of the hipster moustache will be over.
 

Tom Rollins


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