The other day I discovered something I really like: oldish people who still have the badass hairstyle they had at 19. For some reason it makes me like them, like they stood the test of time.
I used to cross paths often with a woman who, in her 60s, had an iron-grey Streisand bouffant. Totally rad.
And then there are the guys like this fella, who always seem to have nicotine-stained hair and the best jean jackets.
I hope when I get old there’ll be ancient former hipsters with terrible grey mullets and fauxhawks with lighting bolts shaved around the edges.
Those who are now hipsters will one day be hip-replacement-sters.