Portlandia
Portland is a place to fall in love with. Everything in it is so personal and hand-crafted. From the city design, the seemingly overlaying bridges, big spaces for tiny businesses, like, an entire block for a “knitting” shop. weird businesses, like that other store called “Tea house/DIY”, or that “public sewing + breakfast” place. To tons of Thank You notes on the wall of a “restroom” at a regular bistro. (yes, thats america, they dont know what “washroom” is.) And a giant billboard saying: “cars from 1999$”. And just this obsession with huge (and mostly silly) billboards. Vintage clothing, regular clothing, cool clothing, a shopping haven with zero retail tax. And then the Powell’s, to top it all off: the biggest and hippest bookstore in the world. (fact.) color coded rooms, little hand-written notes on the shelves and the fact that threre are 3 entire shelves only filled with Italo Calvino’s. Who knew the guy had so many books. In Portland, every other guy wears a big bushy beard, black rimmed glasses and skinny jeans. Every other person is a musician: Street music, bar music, live music, on the fly music, wrap it up, or eat here music. This is a town taken entirely over by hipsters. irony is everywhere and in the heart of everything, in every corner, on every rooftop, at every doorstep; Even in the straightforward layout of the city: NE, NW, SE, SW… OK hipsters, we get it. You are “Keeping Portland weird”. Well done.
In a nutshell? If Portland wouldn’t make you feel, nowhere else would.
And me? no, I didn’t fall in love with it. I guess cause I’m not a hipster. Apparently, I “certainly dress like one”, but I’m more “mature in years” to be a hipster. My take home lesson from Portland.
