I don't know why it took me this long to make the connection, but now it feels like the entire spectrum of hip culture can be mapped out by the travails of imaginary, big-headed, one-eyed, emotionally fraught misfits with names that rhyme with "tar sell."
So while Marcel the Shell began taking his lint dog for a walk and riding his bug car to the nearest syrup spill in late 2010, his forlorn and thoughtful shuffling hasn't really taken him outside his Brooklyn apartment. Meanwhile, though he has been spotted on the F train [below], jetset and jaded Darcel has been moping around the art, museum, and fashion worlds on three continents since 2008.
While Marcel gets wholesome, cuddly two-picture-book deals and a TV pilot, Darcel does an illustrated diary on Hypebeast. And repeat exhibitions at Colette of his fancy colabo furniture [with righteous wallpaper].
Karl just about sealed it. Even with an errant Miranda July reference thrown in, I thought I had these two trendy cyclopses figured out, in their niches. Something about edgy vs. twee. Cool vs. cute. Manhattan vs. Brooklyn. Kidults vs. kids. Alcoholic vs Twelve-step. Undiagnosed vs post-therapy. It all made sense.
And then I saw this at Project No. 8, and my whole hipster paradigm collapsed in on itself:
It's a foot-high, handknit alpaca Darcel, in an edition of "20 or so." For $75. I mean, seriously, put that on a bug and drive it. It couldn't get any kawaii-er if it was sold on etsy itself.
So Marcel, Darcel, whatever, just get on a hipster cyclops bus. Get on them both. Buy them all, let the dog sort'em out.
Marcel, Darcel. Darcel, Marcel. [via]