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Feed a Hipster
You know, I used to roll my eyes and gag at the thought of parents buying their twenty-something children $1,000,000 condominiums. When I read that New York Times story about that broad whose mother insisted upon buying her a nice new couch to grace her brand new luxury condo I was apoplectic. I found myself uttering:
What the fuck is this woman’s problem? Can she not be trusted to select and purchase her own damned couch?
Now jump to last weekend, when I found the below attempt at hipster homemaking on Driggs Avenue.
These kids really need help.
Can you find it in your heart to dial the 800 number on your screen? You will receive a letter in the mail with a photo of a hipster that really needs you. For the cost of a cup of coffee a day you can feed a hipster and teach him (or her) the lost art of Home Economics.
Or how to call Fresh Direct.
Miss Heather
P.S.: Speaking of homemaking, check out this new blog called Brooklyn Nester. It’s nice to know there is (another) woman out there who has realized that the Chuck Bukowski lifestyle and Brooklyn housewifery are not necessarily incompatible. All I’m saying is I strap on one before cleaning out the refrigerator. It’s like fucking Somalia in there: chaos reigns.
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