And on the seventh day the Lord said, let them hip.
And so we did.
We hipped. All day long. What did we do? Well my fellow hipster let me tell you.
On Sunday we awoke at a house party (which was still going), finished off some whiskey with a blind man from Kildare who used to tour with The Beatles when he was younger. So he told us loads and loads of stories (like Paul and John once dated for 4 months before one of them took acid for the first time and went a-sexual) which everyone who was sitting around in a circle in the back garden really enjoyed except for Nyree & I who just shrugged our shoulders and muttered whatev's. This annoyed some people there and they told us to our faces. Nyree & I we're going to tell them to get over it but then we realised we didn't care and just went on living our lives. When left in the afternoon, had food (Wild Salmon with Jumbahil sauce which comes from pure hemp), had an afternoon beer near Portobello Bridge and then walked into town barefoot. We had decided at around 4 AM the night before that shoes were out and that we would start rocking the Le barefoot'chic look. On our arrival into town we threw eggs at KFC for the irony then fell asleep in Stephen Green park. We awoke to the sound of the police moving us on saying that the park was closing so we headed on up to our apartment and got our nordic friend Anved to bring his acoustic guitar to accompany us playing scrabble on our roofgarden till the early hours. By the time we hit the bed, we were hipped out of it.
P.S You might say that scrabble is not that Hipster but when your only allowed to use Flemish words and you don't speak Flemish well then my hipster friend, it get's a whole lot interesting.
P.S.S. Anved is a good friend and is pretty hipster himself but he lives with an even BIGGER hipster than himself. Her name?... Natalie Radmall-Quirke. Boom!
This is my brother Simon, joyfully abandoning himself against the Melbourne skyline at Shrine of Remembrance. The shine was erected in 1934 to commemorate the 114,000 Victorian Australians who enlisted in the First World War, 19,000 of whom never returned home. My Brother, in happier circumstances, won’t come home either.
My brother Simon, making a habit of joyfully abandoning himself. Also playfully protesting against the government warnings.
Who’s MAGIC HOUR? Mine? Are you talking to me? OUR. Who is we? Why is it MAGIC? Is it MAGIC? Why not? Just an HOUR? Why am I on this boat? (Taken from a sight-seeing boat on Yarra River, this sign by artist Ugo Rondinone creatively disrupted my brain for the next hour. Which was sort of magic.)
Same with this brick which is attached to the ground in an innocuous corner of Sydney over-looking a school that used to be a prison. The artist is Will Coles.
Manila. Sometimes the powerlines overhead are so many they create a canopy, it’s almost like being indoors with no sky. Kind of beautiful though. Creative Disruption.
London. It’s just litter but these cans look like they’re making a point.
What do our fellow hipsters do? Hip all over thee world! Boom times two starring Natalie Radmall-Quirke.
Nyree & Brian
Hipsters we met and liked
"Whatev's, we're over it".
