Me: Dude, why would you write a post to mull over the definition of “hipster”? That’s dumb. A waste of time. Think about it: It’s 2018, and hipster is now a watered-down, umbrella term. People believe that eating avocado toast or seeing a Burning Man photo on the internet is enough to garner them, or others, the label.
The Other Me: I dunno. I guess I like splitting hairs. And it’s not that I’m a hipster apologist — what a gross thing to even write — but I’ve always been a stickler for clarity. Plus, I want to bring back “yuppie.” Most people who incorrectly peg others as hipsters are actually referring to yuppies.
Me: I guess. But, wait, what’s a yuppie to you? Because even the Urban Dictionary has various definitions of that dusty word.
The Other Me: That’s true. But, as I understand it, yuppie has always been used to describe a young, spoiled person with money. But also a faux hippie, like someone who drives SUV with a Greenpeace sticker on the bumper.
Yuppies love hipster culture, but only participate in the superficial, chic aspects of it, such as eating at farm-to-table restaurants or, speaking of Burning Man, going to festivals which have never been cool, but used to be sort of funny to hipsters — at least at the beginning.
Listen, you’ll never catch a yuppie throwing molotov cocktails in a republican rally, but they’ll engage in safe, lazy protests, like reposting a Slate article they didn’t fully read.
Me: So poseurs.
The Other Me: Yes, exactly. What a lot of people who think they understand hipster culture always forget, or perhaps never understood, is that true hipsters disdain affluence. Stories, jokes, or references to hipsters spending $8 on fair trade coffee or $400 on selvedge denim are usually incorrect because they’re referring to modern yuppies, not hipsters.
Me: So you think casual observers are erroneously ascribing hip points to impostors?
The Other Me: Yes. Real hipsters are morally righteous and revel in their astute penny-pinching. That’s the reason second-hand stores became a thing in the first place, or why they love Martha Steward, but hate the Kardashians.
Me: And what about irony? Can’t hipsters like the Kardashians ironically?
The Other Me: Irony is the most confusing aspect of hipster culture for all non-hipsters, and a long, complex subject to get into. But the shortest explanation I can offer is that hipsters know how to dominate camp, or kitsch — and all failed seriousness — in ways that are usually too confusing for the masses.
I’m no Susan Sontag, but I estimate the Kardashians are too self-conscious, poised, and self-aware to be truly ironic, thought mass phenomenons can become highly ironic. It usually happens when the passage of time reveals their flaws (again, failed seriousness). Mommy Dearest is still a good example of this because, although it was meant to be a serious Hollywood drama, it was ultimately deemed too over the top to be taken seriously.
Me: Got it. Still, I think it’s pretty dumb that you bothered to write any of this. Millennials are all “post-label” and shit. Plus I don’t think anybody is going to re-adopt the word yuppie. It’s too late. The well has been poisoned.
The Other Me: It’s fine. I got time to kill, and money to burn. I’ve been waiting for my $12 pour over at this coffee shop and that fucking thing is taking forever to, um, pour.
María Rubio was so good as Catalina Creel, an iconic telenovela villain, the role ruined her career
According to sources on Twitter, and also TvNotas, the holy bible of Mexican gossip, María Rubio, the legendary actress best known for her role as Catalina Creel de Larios in Cuna de lobos, has passed away. She was 83 years old.
Thanks to her role as Soraya Montenegro in María la del Barrio, Itati Cantoral has been dominating the internet with an insane amount of memes, gifs, and even a House of Cards promo special. Itati blew up in the mid ’90s, when older millennials were still teens, and she’s that generation’s go-to character when it comes to Mexican telenovela villains.
Yes, Cantoral was great as Soraya, but the top dog in the telenovela villain game was — and has always been — María Rubio. The Tijuana-born actress was so good in Cuna de lobos that, according to an interview she did with Cristina Saralegui, the role ruined her career:
“[Catalina Creel] was a difficult, beloved character. I enjoyed playing her, but she also hurt me a lot. People completely forgot about María Rubio and now it seems that, after 40 years of being an actress, I’ve only done Catalina Creel.”
Catalina, a murderous matriarch, was known for having some of the best one-liners in telenovela history. But in the same interview with Saralegui, which was filmed over 20 years ago, María proved to be just as cunning and smart as her infamous character, but also incredibly funny:
“[Although I played a villain], I’ve received nothing but compliments, love, and admiration. Never aggression. I think viewers do attack the bad ones — bad actresses, that is.”
If you understand Spanish, check out the hilarious interview below. Watch María viciously own everyone in a panel of full of young telenovela villains:
Traumatic advice from aunt Rosa: “Don’t torture your Care Bear, Mijo. Or else.”
I was 6 years old when I yelled at Tugs, my Care Bear. I put him in time-out for not agreeing to the rules of an imaginary game I had just created.
I built a little time-out fortress for him to stay in while I played with my other toys. Coincidentally my tía Rosa was visiting that day. I urged her to see all my toys when she came into the house. I also explained to her that Tugs was in time-out, to which she replied in shock, “Mijo, mira, You have to be nice to your toys.”
I replied, “Tía, I am nice to my toys, but I’m teaching him a lesson.”
She contested nervously, “No, Mijo, you have to be nice to your toys or they might not be nice to you.”
I wasn’t following her logic.
“Mijo, if you’re not nice to your toys, then at night time they might wake up and crawl into your bed to cut your toes with tiny razors,” she said slowly while staring at my imprisoned Care Bear.
“What?!” I whispered to her while looking at Tugs from the corner of my eye.
“Yes, your toys might do very bad things to you if you don’t treat them good.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
She stood up and walked towards the doorway.
“Mijo, I brought you some tortillas. Come in the kitchen and let’s warm them up,” Rosa said casually.
From then on, Tugs sat on a tufted pillow on my dresser while I slept in velcro shoes for the next year. Growing up in my Mexican-American family meant that everything was possibly alive and watching you.