A week or so ago, we found something fairly legendary as far as Texts From Last Night — or any night, or time of the week — are concerned: a breakup text so absurd, so superficially cruel, we couldn’t not invoke The Sacred H-Word. It was — and still remains — The Most Epic Hipster Breakup Text Message Ever. And now we know where it came from, and who received it.
As a refresher, this was what we saw:
It was culled from an anonymous Tumblr account called How Hipsters Date, which claims to be “Made in Brooklyn, NY.” Their Twitter noted that whoever’s running it is running it out of Williamsburg. Which could be written off as part of the joke if it weren’t so true-it’s-not-funny type true.
It’s dictionary-definition-level Capital-H Hipsterism and Cultural Snobbery, taken to an entirely new level. On the original post, a few commenters doubted the validity of the text and the website, so we sought out the person behind How Hipsters Date, as well as some answers about The Now-Legendary Text. And after a few e-mails with a mysterious, anonymous G-Mail account, this is what we got:
Why protect your identity? (Though, by request, we absolutely will)
[My original anonymity] was a joke. It’s not like I have a reputation to preserve or anything. I don’t think I’ll get to hang out with anyone else after this though. My name is Tag Brum.
Was the sender a man or a woman? Were they being completely serious?OK, first of all, that was a chick. And yes, I think so. I mean, how can one reply to that? Even if she wasn’t, I think that’s a good sign that we are not meant to be. Not in a cosmic crap kinda way, just in a being patronized since the first time we hung out kinda way. She is hot though.
Where do you live? B-Burg?
Williamsburg, yes. I wanted to take a closer look into the hipster phenomena. Can we call it that?
Do you consider the person you were dating to be a “hipster”? Other than this text, how so?
Hipster in disguise, I think. I mean, she doesn’t pay her rent. Her dad does. She’s a total poser. Her dad is not. She refers to herself as an artist, but I think she takes that as loosely as any other hipster does. Plus, she’s an Urban Outfitters junkie. And she didn’t fill out her Census form. There, I said it.
Was this text the impetus for starting How Hipsters Date?
You mean, being dumped? Sure. Also, my friends think my hang out stories are funny. Or at least the outcome of these stories are. A friend of mine came from Amsterdam last Fall and she kind of pushed me into it. In a way, I think it’s an awesome way to deal with break-ups. Well, some of them aren’t really that, if you think about it. Because some of these texts I receive after the first date. So it doesn’t count, right?
Do you consider yourself cultured?
No, she was right. I am worldly though. And racially pretty cool.
What was your initial reaction to that text?
I laughed and thought: “yeah, this will be on the Internets.”
How’s your dating life moving forward from this? Any plans, changes in policy?
Well, I’m Brazilian and the dating dance here is rather different than the dance in Brazil. I can’t really tell if things are gonna work out from the pick up line. Some people are mad, I’m mad too. I understand. We have to power through and keep going, dating is fun. Except when it’s not. I always try to have fun, even if I know nothing is going to happen.
There you have it. Brazilian kid moves to New York, moves to Williamsburg to live among The Cool Kids, gets dumped by a parent-subsidized girl for not being Cool Enough, or so the story goes.
Does Tag have anything to gain from this? Sure, a little fame, maybe, like many a blog, a book deal for How Hipsters Date, or some free PR towards the news site he works on. Or as an awesome dating ad for himself. So the reasonable doubt towards the credibility of all of this is, on some level, very believable. If our friend Tag has, in fact, fooled us: Nice work. You got us.
In this blogger’s professional opinion, however — and as someone who does not, in fact, get paid by the pageview — it’s believed to be legit. And that said: Have you ever been to Union Pool or Legion on a Saturday night? There, in and of itself, you’re sure to find strong cases for the cutthroat dating habits of the 11211’s most notorious inhabitants, and that’s just two of its more infamous corners. And with that, a lesson to all who dare try to penetrate them. Pun completely intended.