The Party Review: I Attended a Hipster Birthday

by D. Martin Austin

The first thing one must learn about hipster parties is that it’s much easier to be too early than it is to be too late. I was particularly concerned about tardiness this evening because I had to drive directly to the party (in North Portland) from my day job (in Beaverton). Even so, after arriving my customary half-hour late, I was early enough to get the message that our host/guest of honor would be an additional hour late—for cosmetic reasons.

The party was held at a trendy bar (judging from the overworked staff) called, I believe, The Gentrification. The venue had everything you’d expect from New Portland: funk music spun by a white DJ sporting a wispy, red, handlebar mustache, a line winding from the bar to the patio where beautiful young people smoked and spoke candidly about world affairs, bartenders with full sleeve tattoos and underused degrees, and the obligatory wall of illuminated liquor kept at a height never meant to be reached by mere mortals, as a reminder that everything is out of your price range.