I sat next to an uber-hipster family this afternoon at a yogurt shop. I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised - I mean, it was a froyo joint after all. But this is a relatively new phenomenon out here, in this burgeoning bedroom community between two of the largest cities in the state, Tampa and Orlando. The Orlampa corridor, as it were (I guess Orlando won on that since well, they have Disney and Disney always seems to win - and Tampando - hearkens too closely to feminine protection, I guess). I should have surmised that once the froyo joints attacked in force, the hipsters weren't far behind.
Anyway, this family was comprised of Dad, Mom, and Daughter - I think...to be honest I couldn't tell if it was a girl or boy, about 9 years old - a strikingly beautiful, highly androgynous child (a what hipster family would be complete with one?) with a short blonde cropped boys style hair cut, wearing a tattoo mustache, wearing all black, very gender neutral clothing with a few pink stripes and black Converse Chuck Taylors. The child sat perched on the chair with both legs tucked underneath, knees out to opposite sides - very gymnast/dancer style, quietly listening, engaged in the conversation dad and mom were having. Mom, almost fully reclined, had a similar haircut, so you could see the clasps on her multiple wooden beaded, short necklaces. Dad, upright on the edge of his chair, left hand slapping out a rhythm on the table, short hair under a fedora, which matched his well-groomed de rigeur beard, that he kept stroking through the conversation with his non-percussive hand...he would periodically break form to eat his yogurt, then immediately return to the stance. They were so well coordinated in their un-coordinated, expensive-made-to-look-not-too-expensive clothing, cropped flat-front, full cut leg pants with frayed hems and sandals (this IS Florida, after all) for both adults, style-conscious tatts conspicuously placed. The rings...so many on both, the string bracelets, casually mixed with copper and thin sterling wire. The discussion...about music, I think, bands I'd never heard of (they were only sitting about 2 or 3 feet away). The attitude...gracefully sardonic as they quietly critiqued each subject of discussion. I actually felt woefully under dressed, or under coiffed, would be more appropriate.
This was not a totally unique sighting, but one in which I had time to breathe it all in. I've been noticing the appearance of the kind with more frequency lately, as I suppose this generation is now coming up with elementary aged children, leaving the dens of urban life and relocating, somewhat surprisingly, but not too surprisingly to the suburbs. I've noticed some in passing at the local elementary school, but dismissed the phenomena assuming they were uncles or aunts, cousins, or visiting family friends. In our sea of yoga pants, running wear, mani/pedis and blowouts/flatirons, golf shirts, chinos and military chic haircuts, they do have a remarkable tendency to seem a bit conspicuous with their layered and accessorized styles, seemingly unkempt coifs and higher than average ratio of facial holes. But I suppose, upon further reflection, that they actually have arrived here in the Suncoast Suburbs. It will be interesting to watch the acclimatization. Which way will it go? Will we get hipper? Will they homogenize? Some say, the power of the suburbs is strong, and that resistance is futile...but this is a new generation that shouldn't be underestimated. I now have a front seat for the show.
When we came home, I found my son a few hours later, reading a book in his room, a fedora perched on his head that I had forgotten he had. Hmmmm....
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