Am I a Hypocrite, or Just a Hippo?

Now, I don’t know if it’s narcissistic to say this, but I don’t view myself as very narcissistic. Like, sure, I care about myself. But I’d say it’s pretty narcissistic to not care about yourself, isn’t it? Well, only if you do that, then brag about it all day. It’s kind of like how people like to call themselves humble. I think that’s just total bullshit. You can’t be humble, and then call yourself humble, it’s a contradiction (Reductio ad absurdum). Anyways, that’s enough rambling. I know this blog is called yap ‘n’ crap, but I still have a point I’m trying to get across. Today’s topic is: I hate people who remind me of myself.

I’m not sure if this is a universal feeling or not, but I have found out that people who remind me of myself just piss me off. Like I try not to openly be performative, but I do unironically enjoy Beabadoobee’s music and collecting vinyl records. I’d say I even got into the hobby before this whole performative bullshit blew up online. But whenever I see another guy do the same thing, I can’t help but think they’re doing it simply for the love of the game. They don’t genuinely care about her music, or like collecting records at all. It’s all a façade in order for the slight chance some girl will take notice and admire how niche and well-cultured this guy is in the world of hyper-masculine gym rats who still think it’s ‘weak’ to cry. Oops, trailing off again, aren’t I? I remember a long time ago someone I knew said that they showed their little brother some Harry Styles song right as it released, and he said that it was hot garbage. Then as soon as he heard it on the radio, he immediately started to praise it after that. This one experience basically sums up the exact point I was just trying to make.

Like have you seen those stupid TikTok’s of guys ironically hanging Labubu’s on their pants, drinking a matcha latte wearing a cropped button-up shirt with pleated shorts and Doc Martens on? And then they’re holding a Beabadoobee vinyl in one hand, reading feminist literature in the other, with wired earphones in their ears (not actually plugged into anything). Yeah, I get that these videos are supposed to make fun of these types of people who do these things unironically, but please do NOT make listening to Beabadoobee a strictly performative thing. And pleated shorts plus Doc’s go super hard for an outfit. So, I don’t want to be attacked for doing these things unironically, PLEASE. However, I do think that matcha is utterly disgusting and the most stupid trend of 2025.

Another example I have is every time I’m walking in the CBD or at university or whatever and I see some guy dressed up in the flashiest, drippiest outfit as if they were modelling for Saint Laurent or Bape or something. These guys piss me off so bad because they’re basically walking around with a ten-foot sign saying “Look at me! I’m rich and have taste in fashion and you don’t!” Like yes, I’m into fashion too, but I am NOT going to be showing up to university wearing a ten-thousand-dollar outfit just to be sitting down for 4 hours watching lectures.

The point is, maybe I’m just mad at these types of people because I’m trying to convince myself I’m not like them. In this day and age, all we want to do is either fit in, or be different, which makes no sense because these days if you want to fit in you have to be different. And that means following the trends, even if those trends evolved from niche communities that were never a thing years ago. And I will admit, I am quite guilty of this. I love to show off how niche I am by always sharing a famous artist’s more ‘underground’ songs or showing myself wearing some super unheard-of designer brand. And I’m also the type of person to audibly gag whenever I see another middle-aged guy wearing a pair of panda dunks. But when these things blow up and become popular, all of a sudden the ‘cool-ness’ aspect of them is gone. When something isn’t underground anymore, you don’t feel like it’s valuable to you. Then you see all these other dudes doing exactly what you did, either to bandwagon, or perhaps they genuinely enjoy the meaning and art behind them. Either way, whenever I see those types of people, who were just like me but just so happened to join when the niche became a fad, I get a little butthurt.

You know what. I think the actual, genuine truth is, I’m angry because I see parts of me in them. And when I see these sorts of people, I visibly cringe with how much they seem to want to show off or seek attention. And then once I realise that these same types of people that I’m judging are the exact same as me, that pisses me off because I’m equally as bad, and I wish I wasn’t, but the truth hurts (as Lizzo once said). In fact, Jack Harlow said it best. The ones that hate me the most look just like me. You tell me what that means. Perhaps my hate stems from my own hate for myself, and my big fragile ego, or perhaps my hate is centred around the fact that I am just not as special as I thought to be, and I’m just algorythmically curated like everyone else, but that’s a talk for another time.

That reminds me of (yes, another pop culture reference is incoming) when Brian from Family Guy invites Quagmire out to dinner, because he wants Quagmire to stop hating him so much. The dinner ends when Brian blatantly asks what there is to hate about him. Quagmire doesn’t hold back, stating that Brian is terrible for constantly hitting on his best friend, Peter Griffin’s, wife, constantly hooking up with bimbos for their bodies, failing as a father for never seeing his son, amongst other things. But the reason I mentioned these three specific ones is because I believe that Quagmire hates Brian because he sees himself in him. All of Quagmire’s insecurities and failures that he’s ashamed of also live in Brian, and Quagmire hates that Brian is just like him, because it reminds him how terrible he is. As a bad friend, a shallow dater, and a terrible father. Maybe I’m just another Quagmire, projecting my insecurities on other people when instead I should be trying to improve myself first. Who would have thought Family Guy could have given such insightful meaning? Or maybe it’s because Brian’s just a dog and Quagmire is racist, but hey who knows.

You know what, there are times where I see someone interested in the same niche things I love and instead of judge them for their aspirations to be alternative and #different, I end up becoming excited. This only applies, however, if I am either: A, trying to suck up to them for some sort of social reason, such as at a networking event or B, the niche thing they’re interested in is still niche and not mainstream, so I know for a fact they truly enjoy the art of the topic, rather than just bandwagon-ing or following the trends. Like my favourite game of all time is probably Final Fantasy XIV, and if I see someone in public randomly spit out their love for that game, I will have an entire yap session – nay – yap FEST with them. Because it is genuinely impossible to find another FFXIV enjoyer in the wild, especially in the tiny town of Brisbane, Australia. Or for example the other day I was touring Sydney and found someone with this super cute Maison Kitsune tote bag and immediately asked them where they got it. Now, Maison Kitsune isn’t very niche at all, but hey compared to other designer brands I like to think I’m a tiny bit cooler for advocating for them rather than the “normies” like Louis Vuitton (don’t hate me y’all). The same goes for Vivienne Westwood, which again is very mainstream and not niche, but still rare to see, especially since London is on the complete opposite side of the world so we don’t get authentic VW pieces in Australia very often. I’ll always complement someone’s VW orb necklace. Always. I’m sorry, they’re just way too cool and I wish we had a flagship store in Australia, but we don’t, and I hate it.

You know what, writing this whole article has completely changed my perception of the reason why I hate people who remind me of myself, whether that’s for the better or for the worse. Maybe I’m, not a hypocrite. Maybe I’m just a hippo – thick-skinned, territorial, and aggressively protective of my aesthetic watering hole.

Well then, today’s article was more of a confession of how self-conscious I truly am rather than any sort of useful informational value, yet I hope you appreciated reading it either way. I have been quite lazy with my writing, and I will continue to be as university picks back up and I make more excuses about how I’m super busy and can’t have time for anything even though I know for a fact I’ll be wasting all my free time scrolling instead (perhaps I’ll write another article about this). But thank you, anonymous reader, for reading yet another yap session. GLHF.