The Agony of Authenticity, or the impossibility of gift-giving

This is pretty much self-explanatory:

Part of the anxiety of gift-giving in New York at this moment in history arises from the fact that you can’t merely buy a gift; you must supply a narrative, and the narrative must be in some sense homespun, which then positions you in tasteful opposition to the vulgar excesses of the 1 percent. Fulfilling this obligation ultimately demands that you go to Williamsburg, Brooklyn, no matter the inconvenience, because Williamsburg has made the greatest strides in creating a retail experience that feels like Iowa circa 1950.

That's from Ginia Bellafante, the world's foremost po-faced chronicler of conspicuous authenticity. 

La Vie 'ipster

French newspaper Courrier Internationale has put together a photo essay on la phénomène hipster in Williamsburg. I tell you, some things are just made for a foreign language. The blurbs on each photo are priceless.

Authenticity Smokes

Authenticity is like charisma -- if you have to say that you have it, then odds are you don't. And so I can't imagine that Brooklyn's hipster vanguard is going to fall for a target-marketing campaign from Camel cigarettes:

The marketing campaign promises its customers will earn “serious street cred” for trying the Williamsburg brand, and noted that Camel met with some “modern-day pioneers” with “lighthearted angst and rebellion” in the neighborhood to try the brand out. Company spokesman David Howard said the marketing campaign was movitated by one thing: Helping hipsters to understand that Camel fits their way of life.

Except there's one old-timer in the nabe who hopes Camel succeeds:

"I hope all these kids buy them, smoke them, and get cancer," Joe Valle, 52, tells the Post of Camel's new Williamsburg-hipster-branded cigarettes. "They ruined this neighborhood, so I hope the cigarettes ruin them." 

(via the handcaper)