I was a hipster before hipsters were born

As I make my way through the barren land of hipsteria in today's urban jungle, I cannot help but notice the recurring patterns that once adorned my world resurfacing and amalgamating themselves in seemingly new cultural landscapes. Have I returned to the place I once began my journey only to recognise the place for the first time? It was nearly two decades ago when people laughed at me riding my Japanese surplus bike, with a beat up basket in front, to my favourite bar/cafe in Malate to hold poetry readings or to my favourite bakeshop/patisserie in Ermita to get loaves of French bread. How they mocked me then for riding instead of driving my way through traffic congested Malate, putting my life at risk, dodging speeding jeepneys and crazed cab drivers back to my one bedroom apartment on A. Mabini. Today, those same people who mocked and laughed at me are themselves riding their own bikes through the city of Makati. Heck, one of them even owns a bike store! Then there are the people who used to make fun of the fact that I didn't even have the budget to refurbish my apartment. They were weirded out by the fact that I had no lamp shades, that I had exposed light bulbs hanging from my high ceilinged American colonial period apartment, and hooked on to the pipes in my bathroom. Nowadays, the mark of any truly hip bar, you know the kind that serves grass-fed beef burgers, artisanal pizza and craft beer, is the presence of the now ubiquitous exposed light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Heck, this makes me feel not only that I was decades ahead of my time, it makes me want to accost the hipsters I encounter on the street to pull their ears close to my lips to say "I was a hipster before you were born, mate!" And that is why I can look any bearded, skinny jeans wearing, fixie bike riding hipster with a feeling of pride knowing that this person is only but a faint echo of my former self.