Being a hipster, though, has very little to do with any specific tastes. Kinds of clothing,… Being a hipster, though, has very little to do with any specific tastes. Kinds of clothing, music, social events and the like are just inconstant vessels into which hipsters can pour their short-term, fanatical interests. Consider early uses of the term “hipster.” In 1948, the American cultural magazine The Partisan Review wrote, “Carrying his language and his new philosophy like concealed weapons, the hipster set out to conquer the world.” In 1959 Jazz Scene published, “Jive—talk or hipster-talk is … an argot or cant designed to set the group apart from outsiders.”

Though the philosophy has changed — today’s hipsters don’t spout novice existentialism but recite postmodern mantras — and the music has shifted from jazz to low-fi, folkish and electro stuff, the mindset remains the same. Hipsters cherry pick some niche and adopt its jargon and accoutrements as their lingua franca.

Picture the following scene from a party that I once attended. This is an actual conversation I heard:

Dude in impossibly big glasses — “So what are your plans after college?”

Frumpy girl wearing all kinds of layered jersey — “I don’t know. I’m just so tired of all this fake work, work, work. I’m thinking of moving to Portland and taking up glassblowing.”

Dude — “That’s awesome. Getting to touch your creation. None of this corporate simulacra.”

Girl — “Yeah. [Pause] Wanna go inside? I think my friend’s noise band is playing.”

Now, glassblowing, the Pacific Northwest and noise are all fine interests. However, in this particular tableau of insincerity, they are just neon flags signaling that you are part of the elite weird. The fatal flaw of hipsters — and this is what sets them apart from people whose interests coincide with hipsters — is that they don’t actually care about the things they say they love. They just want to be card-carrying members of the secret society of card carriers. The requirements for membership are constantly changing and chasing this caprice is their real pastime.

Sure, bros are into Jagermeister and telling girls that they have awesome racks. But they are actually into it. The growlers of Natty Ice and center spreads of Adriana Lima are the authentic stuffs of dreams, whether or not they are bad dreams. Look down on it if you want, but I would take a bro repping Under Armour every day over a hipster promoting Goodwill yesterday, American Apparel today and — likely — something like Topshop tomorrow. Sincerity is the deal breaker in this one, Mr. Beitzel.

E-mail Erik at [email protected].

Still think hipsters are cooler than bros? Check out Dave Beitzel’s counterpoint to this column.