The Belly of the Beast

You may or may not know this about me, but I have an issue with the Hipster community. I find it incredibly phony. The idea of spending countless hours and dollars to appear unique. Flannel shirts, unkempt hair, five day beard, skinny jeans, Chuck Taylors etc. You know, trying to look like Bret from Flight of the Conchords. Vinyl records of bands that no one has ever heard of, purchased only for the sake of being able to say they own vinyl from a band that no one has ever heard of. Like these two winners below. I mean, how much money do you think these D-Bags spent to look like they are borderline homeless?

I will admit that I do enjoy the ridiculous plastic sunglasses they wear though. So on Monday I decided to pick up a cheap pair, and despite my better judgement I decided Kensington Market would be a nice place to check out and buy some super cheap shades. The belly of the beast if you will. Nestled right behind Chinatown, Kensington Market is ground zero of the Hipster problem, even more so than Queen West. Stores selling ironic T-Shirts, second hand books and decrepit furniture from the 70s line the streets. Independent coffee shops selling free trade coffee on every corner. A bicycle to car ratio of at least 100 to 1. In fact, I believe this was the only car I saw on a road when i was there.

Shawn and I stopped at an Indian restaurant called Waterfalls. It was pretty cool. You could tell it was once trendy and expensive, clearly out of place in Kensington Market. But now it was kinda falling apart. The menus' lamination was peeling off, the fence around the patio was falling down and such. It was like one of those luxurious yachts found moored in San Tropez or Monte Carlo.... but 5 months after being hijacked by pirates. Still tasty though.