A Tale of Two Hipsters
How capitalism, 19th century bohemia, and Hugh Hefner created America’s most hated stereotype
1. A tale of two bicycles
Around 2008, speeding down 7th Avenue from Central Park in New York City, weaving in and out of traffic. I had reached my destination at 24th Street, only to lift the bike to the curb and have the wheel bound away from me and down into the street. A quick-release joint on the axle had worn loose. It didn’t cost me much to replace. But the event made me afraid of something similar happening — namely, that one day, after all the hard riding, the old frame would crack or split at some critical juncture and I would be flung head first into traffic. It seemed sensible to get something new. But I didn’t have the money so the worry soon dissolved into a vague interest in new bikes I noticed on the street.
A few years later, I was on Bedford Avenue, the main drag of “South” Williamsburg, a few blocks north of Williamsburg Bridge (I lived 10 blocks below it) outside the fin de siècle-themed bar that didn’t have a name. Or rather, as per the “speakeasy” trend, the only place you could find its secret appellation was on a tiny, monographed creme-colored business card the hostess gave you which read “Maison Premiere,” or as my girlfriend at the time affectionately…
