Danielle Ryan

Let me give you a tad of insight into my life: I listen to the Smiths. A lot. I exclusively wear Levi’s skinny jeans. I could pick out Helvetica from a mile away and explain how its simplistic, sans-serif nature makes it an absolutely groundbreaking font.

If it is not apparent to you yet, I am a hipster.

Criticize me all you’d like, and I’ll just ironically mock you in one of my many blogs.

If you are particularly getting on my nerves I may even tweet about you, and you don’t want to find out which 140 characters I’d viciously employ.

Still a little hazy on what exactly a hipster is? Just walk around with a Sam Cooke album on vinyl, and they’ll flock towards you.

I wouldn’t necessarily say that I’m proud to be a hipster, but I’ve accepted that fact and realized that I am happy with my choice of stereotype. I mean, lattes are actually pretty enjoyable.

However, I’ve noticed an extremely annoying trend amongst my fellow Ray-Ban advocates of Eau Claire, and that is that hipsters refuse to acknowledge themselves as such.

In fact, some even ridicule hipsters (though this is ironic enough to be considered hip, causing a tricky paradox). Admitting to being a hipster and embracing that fact is a pretty liberating feeling.

You no longer have to hide your fake glasses when you see people who have known you your whole life.

You’re allowed to despise Dave Matthews with no justification other than your Sperry Topsiders.

If for no other reason, just think of how ironic it is to be true to yourself.

C’mon now, people, this isn’t Brooklyn. We’re in the minority here. We need to band together, or soon we will be enveloped by the overwhelming majority. The consequences are bleak. Have you ever listened to Jack Johnson on a Zune player? It is hell.

This is our time to bust out the cardigans, the Kurt Vonnegut novels and the iPhones. The time to quote lyrics in our Facebook profiles and discuss the merits of Wes Anderson’s filmmaking.

And so, I implore you, hipsters of Eau Claire, Wis., be not afraid! Ride your fixed-gear bicycles along the mighty Chippewa River, with your right pant leg elegantly rolled to the knee! Tweet the fact that you are sitting mere feet from Justin Vernon of Bon Iver when sipping your coffee at Racy’s! Blast Kanye West from every speaker and stay adamant that Taylor Swift deserved it! And by God, check Pitchfork on an hourly basis to find out Vampire Weekend is touring Europe in three months.

If you continue to hide yourself behind layers of secondhand flannel, you will never realize that it is completely acceptable in society to be a hipster, and truthfully, it’s pretty rad, too.

Trust me, I listen to the Smiths.