Hipsters On Ice

First the Lower East Side, then the Mission District, now Los Feliz, Silverlake, and Echo Park. Managing always to be surrounded by these tight-pantsed tattooed creatures, I've moved from enclave to enclave, learning their language of apathy for anything other than outdated technology and bicycle riding. Between the fauxhawks, and the American Apparel, and the takeoff on ethnic scarves, they are unmistakable. They studied art and the social sciences, mashed up mod and punk and hippie and anarchist, and attempt the appearance of low-income lifestyles while spending about half a million dollars every day on a hand-crafted latte. They are mulleted yuppies on wheels, meant to work in a show called Hipsters On Ice.

Imagine hordes of waifish men and women in grey jeans posing and skittering across a glossy rink while the White Stripes play over the intercom. There could be a girl dressed as Karen O from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs doing figure 8s while the president of Urban Outfitters skates with a rose in his teeth to a pack of boys admiring moccasins. There could even be a giveaway where the winning audience member gets a messenger bag filled with an ironic Christmas sweater and a vegan burrito. The winning audience member will be picked by the cast member who has the worst posture and owns barrettes made out of Legos, which will also be criteria for getting cast in the first place.

The sequel to the show will of course be called Hipsters On Nice, in which it is revealed that all the little poppets really wanted in the first place was to go back to their childhood in the 80s. The marketing potential therein is endless. They've got to slouch and remain their teenage weight for something.