I MUSTACHE YOU A QUESTION
The rise of hipsters—those trendy brethren of the subversively quaint, with their ultra-skinny pants and ultra-fussy facial hair—has taken the nation by storm. Heavy beards and ostentatious ’staches are no longer relegated to the faces of craggy-faced woodsmen—in fact, formidable follicles are popping up everywhere (even from frighteningly low V-necks on hipster men).
In an era when literally everything old is new again—I’ve mistaken my fair share of twentysomething hipster women as scrawny grannies from the back—the hipster wedding is a particularly fascinating beast (as are the husbands, thanks to the ironic beards). If you check out Pinterest, your eyes will swim in a sea of nostalgically washed-out snapshots of Mason jar beverages, brides smiling from behind vintage veils, bright colors and rough edges and more DIY crafts than a kindergarten classroom.
Don’t get me wrong: not all hipster weddings are trying-so-hard-not-to-try-that-they’re-trying-hard-again. Two of my close friends got married at a vineyard where all of the decorations were made by hand (by yours truly, among many others) and the pièce de resistance was a basket full of rainbow sprinkles in which little hand-lettered flags nestled to announce which guest sat where. An assortment of neon sunglasses were also available for guests to use to obscure the setting sun and take home as fun souvenirs (thankfully, there was no photo booth in sight in which to pose jauntily with said sunglasses).
For those who genuinely love the vintage-y wedding vibe, there are a plethora of websites devoted to the endeavor. The Tumblr account Hipster Bride offers an array of beautiful photographs to inspire “the future Hipster Bride.” The folks at Refinery 29 have even created this helpful infographic to determine whether or not the wedding you’re attending is hip—or hipster. And if you’re lucky enough to be in Texas, you could hire Fort Worth residents Michael and Lindy Conrad to make you an aptly named Hipster Cake. (Find them here.)
So don your coolest wingtips, throw on that threadbare cardigan (we know you bought it at Urban Outfitters last week), grab a Mason jar full of moonshine and dance the night away. Just don’t stay out too late—you wouldn’t want to ruin your granny-chic image.