It’s a beautiful morning in Toronto. I am woken with a warm ray of sunshine beaming through my window. The birds are out and my bunny Jermaine is awake and loving the balcony breeze coming through his cage. This is a perfect day for a walk to work.

I get showered, dressed and equip myself with sunglasses, moccasins and an Earl grey tea with a touch of honey. Within five minutes I am making time to the beats of She Wants Revenge and rolling along. As per usual I am scoping the morning fashions of my fellow concrete travelers. We’ve got tweed hats paired with cute worn leather cropped jackets, ripped denim with layers on top of lace, cotton and what appears to be a mesh type thingy!
As I continue my morning fashion scope I come across a woman walking in front of me. From the rear she looks like the average hipster. Messy bed head hair, black worn out Lacoste jacket, Vintage long strap purse, fishnet pantyhose paired with what appeared to be a black mini skirt and 80’s style kitten heels that could have easily come from a fashionable vintage boutique. She was hipster hobo chic to the extreme and it amazed me someone would spend so much time putting together a look that gives the appearance of a gypsy traveler. She was dressed for the part of jaded concertgoer at the next MGMT concert or the always-indifferent party girl that shows, looks sullen for most of the night and spends half her time in the bathroom smoking. I keep my eyes on her and as I get closer it’s starting to dawn on me that this lady is looking a little more worse for wear than your average downtown try hard. The vintage leather bag had one too many holes, the fishnets were not a patterned rip as per Urban Outfitters style direction for the season and although her hair was the perfect “ haven’t washed because I’m writing poetry” look, it was just a bit too greasy. I’m about two feet from her at the point when it becomes crystal clear, she’s from the local half way house and pretty much a semi or totally homeless person. I couldn’t tell the different between a local hipster and a homeless person, we are close to the end peopleHIPSTERS ARE SO EARLY 2010.

Upon my arrival at work I fill everyone in on my morning insights and the lovely Karen directs me to a story about a man in China who becomes somewhat of a hobo fashion icon. Reports on him offer parallels to his daily homeless fashion creations to that of the runways in New York and Paris. The report did yield something positive. Due to the publicity, the homeless man’s family was tracked down in their hometown and they were reunited. That aside, WTF. Hello Zoolander and Derelict. Zoolander shows how absolutely absurd the fashion industry can be, going as far as exploiting the homeless and less fortunate for collection inspiration. What do we do? We become the joke. Wow, sad times people, sad times.

I have spent the last while trying to sit on a few Toronto street corners to capture a visual for you of both a Hipster hobo and the real deal Homeless that live amongst us. Every time I find a spot, get ready to shoot I start to feel guilty. I feel bad that

A) I am going to exploit someone who either could use some help or needs to go back on the meds.
B) I am slightly angry at the indifference that lives under the hipster garb. The world is a pretty rad place to be right now. Apathy and indifference are soo early 2010.