Here it is, people. Fresh out of the starting gate. Your latest and greatest demographic. It’s the new yuppie and even newer hipster.
Introducing, the yuccie. Young Urban Creative.
Self-declared yuccie himself, Mashable writer David Infante describes this most recent breed of bamboo glasses-wearing, vegan leather tote-carrying human.
“In a nutshell, a slice of Generation Y, borne of suburban comfort, indoctrinated with the transcendent power of education, and infected by the conviction that not only do we deserve to pursue our dreams; we should profit from them.”
Has a nail ever been hit more on the head?
It isn’t just a fancy new name for a hipster, though origins can be traced to the word’s definition. What makes yuccies different is their desires. These youngins want to get Insta-famous for painstakingly artsy photos (though they’d sooner give up their downtown loft than admit that) or drop out of the workforce to open a soda shop and connect with the community. And they want to get paid.
What it really boils down to: creative ideas=money=validation.
Infante explains that the yuccie siren song croons visions of dreams turned to profit.
“You deserve to make a living being yourself. Your ideas are valuable. Follow your dreams.”
And I have to say, it kinda makes sense. The American Dream is no longer to have a family of four and a station wagon-it’s to strike it big because of a brainchild. Social media stars can become millionaires overnight. Ditto for app or website creators. There has been a major shift in what constitutes a job, and it no longer just includes a paycheck. People want that direct deposit to be the result of their hard work executing a dream.
Cold hard proof that their beliefs and desires are worthy of a payout.
When I first read Infante’s nutshell definition, I agreed with him one hundred percent. I could see the characteristics in myself, and the more I read, the more acquaintances came to mind.
The “Are You a Yuccie?” quiz proved this wrong, but I think I’m at least part yuccie. After all, I’d love to get rich for crafting my thoughts into prose and taking pictures. Plus, I’m writing a blog post as an intern for a start-up company. But if I was a true blue yuccie, the company would be mine and my bed would be on the ground at home in a dingy white room with some house plants.
What keeps me from full-on yuccie status is my unbreakable hold on reality, and the fulfillment I can feel from completing what some would call mundane jobs. I enjoy art projects and creative writing, but I can sit at a desk and file papers or input data. I love feeling like I accomplished something, even if it was executing someone else’s ideas as a low-on-the-totem-pole employee. A yuccie could do this, but they could never keep the ruse up for long.
The yuccie is a film major who barely made it through college because all you really need are connections and experience and talent. And they have the talent. The short film they shot last weekend will prove you that.
Slap a yuccie label on the beautiful girl in your English class who rarely shows up. She plans on writing a book about her life and illustrating it with her own photos. Her Facebook posts, when they aren’t advertising her blog, are mostly complaints about how poor she is. Her parents wait backstage with that new worth-thousands-of-dollars camera and a check for the bills.
Yuccie partners will open a bakery together and sell only loaves of bread and coffee in their painfully minimal shop that used to be a Laundromat. Their brand will be unique and a trend in itself that will catch on like wildfire. Instagrammers, get your hashtags ready.
As your official middle woman between consumer and internet throw-up, you can trust me to filter through the good stuff. If I were you, I would share this with your friends in a pointed post about a yuccie you know, because judgement is inherent and a good label is priceless.
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