Greenpointers Exclusive: The DieHipster Interview
Meet Jaime Kimpo, the true identity of the notorious Die Hipster.
After months of sleuthing, we have finally tracked down the king of the anti-hipster movement, only to have found a queen, a hipster queen at that. I met up with the Die Hipster at her favorite cafe on 17th Avenue in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn.
GP: So, wow, I’m a little bit in shock here. You appear to me as a young, creative, Brooklyn type. What many may call a hipster, is that a fair assessment?
Die Hipster: I’m not a f—ing hipster, I’m from New York.
GP: So only hipsters come from outside of New York?
DH: (smirk; eye roll)
GP: Ok, so you started writing the Die Hipster blog over six years ago. You must have been like 12 years old, how did you even know about hipsters and this lifestyle that you wrote so much against?
DH: I have four older brothers, one in IT, who helped me start it out. It really was started by my middle brother, Jimmy, but he didn’t enjoy the attention like I did. It was never about writing quality journalism anyways.
GP: I guess you’re right, now that I think about it, it was quite juvenile writing, but you really touched on some emotional issues and certainly hit some serious nerves with people. In September 2010, you wrote a post making fun of a “hipster” girl who got killed on her bike. You even went as far as saying that you looked forward to seeing her sister and mother also run over by a bus.
DH: That’s not a question.
GP: No it’s not. Did you have any idea how hurtful that was? Could you imagine someone who knew this girl reading about some anonymous person online making fun of her premature death? What about the girl you joked about who got her head stomped in a political rally and went into a coma?
DH: What about her?
GP: What gave you the fuel to breed so much hatred for people you don’t even know? Can you answer that?
DH: (long silence)
[At this point, Jaime gets up and tells me the interview is over. She appears visibly emotional and dare I say, regretful. I convince her to join me at the table again after a few minutes and some text messages.]
GP: For six years, on and off, you wrote one after another hateful, angry, childish, violent posts about a demographic that you never really knew. What is it about hipsters that you hated so much?
DH: These people come from Ohio or wherever and change the complete look of our neighborhoods, raise the cost of living, create a market for big, ugly condos, drive out small mom & pop shops and don’t even have to work for a living. And they don’t even fucking shower. What’s up with that?
GP: You don’t think it has anything to do with Bloomberg changing zoning laws, greedy non-hipster developers and a dramatic decrease of income for middle class families in every corner of the United States?
GP: Okay, let’s talk about your followers. Their comments often go beyond even what you would write, they brought a whole new level of violent, hate-filled discussions and fantasies.
DH: (Laughing, nods)
GP: I mean c’mon, these are the worst trolls the Internet can offer.
DH: Yeah, it got pretty bad, but the attention and praise that I received over the years was pretty amazing. I had a big following, still do. It felt good, even though I knew there was some really obnoxious shit happening. But I’m done with it.
GP: Yeah, you made it to the New York Times, but now you’ve given it all up. What’s next for you?
DH: I’m just focusing on graduating from high school and getting the hell out of New York.
GP: Oh, away from all the hipsters?
DH: Getting away from my family, Bensonhurst and all my idiot friends who are getting trouble. I’ve already done early decision for Brown University in Rhode Island.
GP: Really? Wow. You’ll probably have a whole new source of over-privileged hipsters to write about over there. Thanks for talking with me.
And there you go, Die Hipster was a teenage girl, starved for attention and generally unaware of just how disgusting her vitriol spread through the world wide web. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Happy April First, Greenpointers.