Jessica Faraday and Preston "I work for Adidas" Page did not receive a warm welcome from some new neighbors.

KRON 4 reports (via Portland's KOIN) that the California-based pair moved to Portland, Oregon four months ago. They woke up this Sunday to find their home and their car (really, really) vandalized.

Spray-painted across the couple's new and adorable house were the words "Get California out of Portland" and "Move back." The pair's car was also keyed and covered in spray paint.

The day before, the couple was backing out of their driveway when another driver began yelling, "Go back to California!"

Faraday and Page assume the over-the-top vandalism stems from the road-rage incident. Apparently the pair had just finished revamping and re-painting their new home. It's not clear how anyone knew the couple had moved from California, but a peek at a website for their upcoming wedding at a monastery in Mexico might offer some answers.

This incident calls to mind a guerrilla sticker campaign from two years ago when someone, or some group, was stickering Portland real estate agent signs with the message "No Californians."

In defense of Faraday and Page (and their many, many hats and tattoos), Portland is pretty hipster-heavy already. The Oregon city is no stranger to man-buns and precious selfies. It's not like two more blond people in leather jackets and Navajo rings aren't totally going to fit right in.

While surprised someone would "go this far," Faraday and Page don't plan to give in to the vandal's demands.

"Portland is fantastic. You can't argue with this place," said Page.

CLEARLY YOU CAN, PRESTON.

Related: New Angry Mission Graffiti Targets All Yuppies and Hipsters

You've likely read multiple accounts of the Jejune Institute-adjacent secret society in the Mission created by the company Nonchalance, dubbed The Latitude, which folded in September 2015 after a brief attempt to become profitable as a startup, real-life social network. For those of you who haven't, there's a lengthy "epilogue" by Latitude visionary and trust fund kid Jeff Hull screencapped here (the Latitude site isn't loading these days), and devoted member Lydia Laurenson just wrote her own extended reflection on it for Vice's Motherboard blog. It was all highly top secret, and details were well guarded by the society's members until last fall when it became clear that the fun was all over — and Laurenson's description of her initial discovery is especially rich, but you can also read others here and here.

Basically, members were given plastic invitation cards that demanded their "absolute discretion" by friends — sometimes these were close friends bestowing the invitations as special gifts, at others they were given out randomly by mercurial members to total strangers with no explanation, but they cost $25 to $32 apiece so those people were probably rich. The card got you entry to the fully staffed initiation location in the Mission, which involved an ornate oak slide, tunnels, a tiny library you sat in to listen to the "Fable" of the Latitude for the first time, and a lounge where an unseen person left you a cocktail glass with fresh ice. There was an initial "adventure" around the Mission that you were supposed to complete, and then there were member gatherings called Praxis that I don't really understand. The person who invited you in was called your "ascendent," and parts of the experience just sound like one of the creepier episodes of Lost with the Dharma Initiative.

It was part game, part puzzle, part immersive performance, and part social gathering opportunity. Says brief member Jason Baldwin, who sounds like he was less heavily involved than Laurenson, "So, hat's off to you Latitude Society. You made me feel like a kid again, imagining crazy adventures and exploring secret worlds hidden just under mundane skin of everyday life. You crazy knuckleheads created something truly amazing."

Suffice it to say, the society experience appealed especially to non-jaded twentysomethings in tech and creative fields who got turned on by the elaborate mythology of it all, even though it was just a sort of faux cult created by a creative agency that, like the earlier Games of Nonchalance and Jejune (detailed in this 2012 documentary) was an expensive attempt to get people off the internet and out of bars and doing something out of the ordinary.

How expensive? This account floated operating expenses of $3,000 a day, and the Motherboard piece suggests that Hull sank $2 million of his own personal wealth in The Latitude, with that thoughtfully designed and constructed headquarters/initiation space taking three years to build. That sum has not been confirmed by Hull, however.

At $32 apiece (the price went up at one point), those invitation cards, which could be ordered online by members, weren't exactly paying the bills, which necessitated the controversial and ultimately fatal decision to start charging members hundreds of dollars a year for the privilege, which suddenly made it all feel a whole lot less special — and obviously a whole lot more for-profit. In total, a reported 1,200 to 2,000 people were given cards and did some part of the initiation, which means the most revenue from that aspect of the Latitude that they could have made was $60,000.

You can see a "Business Proposal" slide deck here from Nonchalance, dated August 2015, clearly showing that they were hoping to grow the society in other cities. But is it just me, or does this not seem like the sort of kooky (and vaguely culty) organization that only flies in San Francisco, with its plethora of geeks, Burners, and gaming nerds with money to burn?

The point of the society, according to the slides, was to offer members a sense of meaning through "Ceremony. Ritual. Rites of passage. Initiation leading to genuine social cohesion... Kinship, mentorship, communion."

All that, of course, doesn't fly for the more suspicious and cynical among us, not to mention people who are not naturally joiners. One former member told Motherboard that she was weirded out from the start by the lack of clear guidelines around members' privacy and anonymity, and she received backlash from friends and other members when she deactivated, with them all getting totally cult-creepy on her and wondering if she was going to tell outsiders any secrets.

Hull, meanwhile, appears to have flamed out under the dual pressures to stop the thing from losing money, and becoming a new parent. On Facebook he wrote, "It will be an enduring and inescapable mystery how a game built to offer shared whimsy, inspiration, and play can result in trauma for the people most closely involved." Hull reportedly shut the entire thing down one day in late September, only a month or so after that above proposal was written.

It's clear that The Latitude was a cool and fun experience for some, and even a central touchpoint in the lives of a few, for the short moment that it existed.

I can't say I would have turned down an invitation, had anyone ever offered me one, but yeah, would I have wanted to socialize with random strangers who had Burning Man-esque nicknames and go on silly scavenger hunts with them, or whatever it was they did, when I can barely find enough time to keep up with my actual friends? Uh, no.

Update: Founder Jeff Hull reached out to SFist with a message that he also sent to the writer of the Motherboard piece, Lydia Laurenson. Specifically, he wanted to clarify the presumption about his inherited wealth (his dad, Blair Hull, sold an algorithmic trading firm to Goldman Sachs in 1999 for $531 million, and, Hull says, this wealth was not inherited because he worked for his share of that money): "The truth is I worked for Hull Trading Company for several years in the 90's and became a partner in the firm at the time it was sold to Goldman Sachs," Hull writes. "Since that time I stand on an Investment Committee to strategically manage these and other funds. I chose to invest in the Latitude (and Oaklandish and the Jejune Institute) because I believed in the vision. While certainly there was nepotism in my rise to that position, I did earn a wage and stake through years of employment in my family's company. It did not simply fall in my lap. This inaccuracy in itself is no big deal, but it leads to further articles like in the Sfist today characterizing me as a "trust fund kid" instead of as an artist or producer (a reputation I spent the last 20 years building through impassioned service to the bay area community). It's pretty belittling to have your career reduced in this way."

Related: Video: Documentary Explores Weird Local Role-Playing Game

Good news, brunch squad! Though Valencia Street favorite Boogaloos is indeed facing a fat rent increase and was rumored to be shutting its doors for good pretty much right away, it's totally staying open until later this year! So, as they say, "let's do brunch."

"For sure we’re not leaving in September,” co-owner Carolyn Blair Brandeis tells Mission Local. “We’ll be staying open at least through Christmas, that’s our plan.” And with lines a fixture outside of the old drugstore, you might want to camp out for your table starting, well, now.

It was reportedly the "whacked out Valencia Street rent" and an increase thereof that's making it nigh impossible for Boogaloo's to stay put. According to a rent listing, it'll be $17,500 per month. “We’re just trying every angle,” said Blair Brandeis. “It’s up in the air, but we will be staying as long as we can.”

“We will try to keep it open at another location,” she added of her 1994-founded operation. “We’re just trying to make this work.”

Vegetarian fans of that herb gravy will, thus, be able to enjoy it well into fall.

Previously: Brunch Spot Boogaloo's Is Closing Their Doors Because Of 'Whacked Out' Rent

In declaring the Mission "hipster" to be dead, former SF Bay Guardian nightlife writer and onetime publisher Marke Bieschke has certainly threatened to kill the website 48 Hills, which published his virally popular essay. Your friends, as you only don't know if you haven't checked Facebook today, have already linked to it. That might not load due a hosting issue: If it doesn't, you can feel free to read the cache. And now, I'll attempt to summarize and not add too much commentary.

The essay is pegged to the announcement that Boogaloo's, a rather run-of-the-mill pop-up brunch spot with an excellent Valencia Street location, would close due to a rent increase.

Hipsters, Bieschke surmises, can't afford the neighborhood, and are now displaced by "Ivy League business school marketing grads, violently jogging ex-cheerleaders from the Midwest, Bonobos-sporting former frat bros, and Baby Bjorned global arrivistes who have absolutely no idea who Allen Ginsberg or Ariel Pink is, let alone Keyboard Cat."

These days, though he "never thought" he would, Bieschke finds himself missing the loosely defined group of sometimes tragically fashionable youths that roamed the neighborhood. "At least hipsters tried to be cool and attempted to care," he writes, but now, "There [are] pleated chinos at Zeitgeist. Elbo Room is closing. Hipster's dead, y'all."

Bieschke does make exceptions for Oakland and the occasional SF weirdos he meets (many at least costumed for Outside Lands).

And if hipsters were cheap, with their PBR and their Salvation Army cat sweaters, they're either holding on tight to an apartment they landed a decade ago, or they're long gone. Here's Beischke's theory as to their origins:

The 2000s San Francisco hipster was born of the first Web bust, when everyone who got pink slips suddenly had a shitload of money to blow on conciliatory cocaine parties and then invest in outlandish artisanal Etsy dreams. For a moment, rent was low enough again to move here with no plan, if you didn’t mind three roommates plus multiple cats and a diet of Arinell’s.

Since I would argue that hipsters are — or at least were — young people, now that San Francisco young people have higher salaries, the game has changed. It follows, pretty predictably, that young people's definition of "cool" has altered with the rest of the decades' fashions, and their economic means.

Yes, the times are a-changin'. But you know what they say about the "more things change." Sure, even PBR has been supplanted. But now the cool kids I know stick to Tecate. Cheers!

Related: Here's Why Everyone Needs To Stop Bemoaning A Vanishing San Francisco And Move On

According to a tip received by SFist, Haus, a coffee shop on 24th Street, was recently privy to an important and strongly worded warning. A "Yuppie Infestation" is just now sweeping the area, according to the sign maker, and though Haus opened its minimalist doors in May of 2009, its strong coffee and wi-fi could render the not-quite-so-new shop a dangerous hot spot.

Hear ye, hear ye: There's only one more weekend left of a fully open and operational Dolores Park, with the northern half of the park (Hipster Hill, Fixie Flats, tennis courts) closing for six months starting March 13.

We've known this has been coming for a couple years now, with the outcry, subsequent public-input process, and inevitable bureaucracy slowing things down multiple times. And we even thought last fall that this construction process was beginning in January, but that's been delayed. But it's really happening, people. And come the next sunny weekend, the denizens of the Gay Beach/Fruit Shelf and the entire mixed-crowd slope south of the restrooms are not going to know what hit them when the refugees of Hipster Hill invade.

As Bay City News reports, there was already a groundbreaking ceremony this past Saturday.

Allow me to offer some peace-keeping advice for the coming six months, and for the half-year beyond that when the southern half of the park will get its closure:

HH Folks: Leave your bikes at home. Seriously. Half the picnicking real estate of the park is disappearing and we're all going to have to make do with less, so your pile of bicycles no longer has a place next to your blanket. Use your feet. It's a great walking city.

Gay Beach Fans: Try to keep cat-calling to a minimum. Many of those fey boys with beards and good haircuts are, in fact — believe it or not — heterosexual. Also, while the crook of the elbow is likely always to be a well bronzed, occasionally Speedo'd sausage fest on the sunniest of days, try to share the edges of the shelf like good citizens. We're all in this together, and some of us can not afford fancy restaurant birthdays and will need to have them here.

The first part of the renovations will include new turf for Fixie Flats as well as a new path that snakes diagonally from 18th and Church to the center of the park, and a new restroom at that corner as well. And let's not forget the bicycle polo/mixed use court up where the basketball court is. The second half of the renovations, taking place next fall and winter, will include a new overlook plaza thing up at the corner of 20th and Church, and a new restroom built into the hill below the playground.

See the full-size map of the renovations, with key, right here.

Stay calm, everyone. And somehow we will get through this.

[BCN/Appeal]
[Dolores Park Works]

Are you a male urban freelancer/professional with $7,000 to burn, an endless capacity for dressing hiply, and an inability to grow a proper, manly beard? Stop your fretting!

Plastic surgeons are now taking patches of hair from mens' heads and transplanting them on their faces in a growing craze of artificial beard generation, as DNA Info reports. It's unclear how one keeps from then having weird bald spots on one's head, especially if shooting for a full-on lumberjack beard.

The hair for beard transplants typically is taken from the patient's head — roots and all — and then planted through micro-incisions on a bare patch of face, in an eight-hour procedure under local anesthesia, similar to how hair transplants are done, doctors said.

The procedure ranges in price from $3,000 for fill-ins of beard sections to $7,000 for a full beard, doctors said.

While doctors prefer head hair, on rare occasions patients who are balding might be able to use hair from the chest for the surgery, doctors said.

So, sure, if you already are spending $4,000 on rent and have no interest in authenticity or resigning yourself to nature's limits, go for it! What could possibly go wrong?

I found at least one doctor in San Jose who does this stuff, but no doubt there are more in the city. They'll probably be leaving their names and numbers in the comments, in fact.

[DNA Info]
[NY Mag]

It's time for another wacky ranking by Travel + Leisure magazine, in which San Francisco always lands near the top for hipsters and near the bottom for barbecue. This time, though, the magazine's survey has us in the number-one spot in an unexpected category: most attractive people.

Don't get us wrong. San Francisco is a lot of things — wonderful things! — but given that we are not a hub for the so-called beauty industries like entertainment and fashion, we've never really thought of the city as a magnet for beauty. A quick trip to L.A. will show you what it's like when every server in a restaurant is trying to act or model. They're gorgeous. All of them. So we'd say you should take this ranking (like most rankings) with a grain of salt.

Also, the number 2 and 3 cities are Providence, Rhode Island and Nashville, for what it's worth. But they say we San Franciscans have a "you-are-what-you-eat glow." Among the country's least attractive people, according to Travel + Leisure readers anyway: New Yorkers, and denizens of D.C. and Salt Lake City. Miami's on the least attractive list too, so we know it's bullshit. There are a ton of pretty people in Miami.

Good news for hipsters (if that word has any meaning anymore): We rose to the number 1 spot on the list of America's Best Cities for Hipsters, up from number 3 last year.

In total, because we are awesome, S.F. takes the number 1 spot in seven different categories this year, the others being fine dining restaurants, tech savviness, wine bars, intelligence, and gay friendliness. Thank god for that last one, because The Advocate famously declared Minneapolis gayer than us two years in a row, which was just disgraceful.

Alas, we also remain number 1 among America's Snobbiest Cities, which: well, sure.

[Travel + Leisure: America's Favorite Cities]
[Travel + Leisure: America's Most and Least Attractive People]

Remember how this is happening? Yeah. The long-debated, long-awaited renovation of Dolores Park is actually, finally taking place starting in January, and it's going to begin with the closure of the entire northern half of the park, a.k.a. Hipster Hill and Fixie Flats.

This is likely going to mean a social apocalypse in which everyone must crowd together near the playground and on the Gay Beach during the first half of 2014, and this is both exciting and frightening. What could go wrong? Oh, surely many things. And everyone better get used to full and partial nudity with much designer underwear amongst the gays.

Perhaps we can all live in peace and harmony, and perhaps fewer people will go to the park once there are big fences around it and such. Heaven fore-fend we should have a really warm spring.

As reported earlier, the renovation is going to entail some new pathways, the demolition of the existing clubhouse/restrooms, the addition of two new restrooms at either corner of the park (near the basketball courts and in the hillside next to the playground). Also, the bicycle polo people got one of the courts deemed a "multi-use" court, and they may be found playing bicycle polo there, like in the Portlandia credits. There will be a new central path connecting the different parts of the park, and following the northern-half renovations, a new path from 19th Street to the playground is going in.

THEN, starting around August of next year if things stay on schedule, the southern half of the park will close, with the exception of the playground. This means no Gay Beach for next year's Indian Summer, even though all they're really doing to that section is putting in some paving stones and benches up at the lookout point at 20th and Church. Also, we're now told, a "pissoir" is going in near that corner as well, so that maybe the gays will stop peeing in the bushes across the Muni tracks.

You can read all about it at Mission Local, and how there's been a $2 to $4 million cost overrun due to the fact that things were so delayed by all the community input meetings, and a lengthy environmental impact review. Now that the economy's stronger, contractor bids are getting more pricey.

[Mission Local]
[Dolores Park Works]

You guys, people are upset. LA Weekly just unleashed their "20 Worst Hipster Bands" list, which, as it set out to do, has since made readers bristle and sigh, pout and glare.

Since you SFist editor couldn't recognize most, if not all, of these accomplished artists' works had we heard their ditties blaring from your boom box—we only listens to female vocalists and the Sondheim channel—we turn to our more musically-inclined associate editor Andrew Dalton for his thoughts on said list.

Dalton explains: "Basically, it's just another group of rock critics complaining that popular music does not fit their large-scrotum definition of rock music. It's also a successful effort to rile those who just want to have a modicum of sensitivity in their lives. Needless to say, the article has sparked a bit of an outcry from fans. And multiple entries on this list go against their own editors opinions (Tune-Yards winning Pazz & Jop, Ariel Pink at #7). So you know—it's just a large piece of lazy garbage."

The controversial compilation has infuriated scores of readers, like jeffrok who fumes, "Get off your horse, LA Weekly, holier-than-thous. If you don't like something, that's fine. No need to create a multi-page article explaining why. Go make your own music."

The list ranked Bon Iver, tUnE-yArDs, Arcade Fire, Bright Eyes, and Grizzly Bear as the top 5 worst hipster bands of all time, respectively. As of 10:30 am Friday, it has garnered a whopping 450 comments and over a thousand 'likes' on Facebook.

At Four Barrel Coffee's back alley coffee window on Caledonia Street, the prickly coffee chain has posted a list of rules for enjoying the alleyway while being respectful of the neighbors. Some of the suggestions are handy, commonsense reminders like: keeping the alley clear of trash, bringing dishes back inside and staying out of traffic, but when it comes to the potential topics of conversation one can have while enjoying coffee al fresco, the coffee roasters and baristas draw a hard line:

"Not talking about annoying hipster topics," the final rule reads. "Or who you fucked last night. You shouldn't do that anyhow, but our neighbors actually can hear you."

Hear that, coffee-swilling kiss-and-tell ilk? Your sexual exploits have been heard by all of Caledonia Street, so you should probably take those conversations back to the cheap Hamm's happy hour where they started.

Meanwhile, our friends over at Uptown Almanac can't help but wonder if "telling the barista what kind of coffee you want" falls under the umbrella of hipster topics.

Photos via SFist commenter MrEricSir.

Right up there with your grandmother on Facebook and David Letterman introducing the Naked and Famous we bring you the latest listicle from Travel + Leisure magazine in which the editors attempt to quantify the hipster quotient of American cities. To wit: "They sport vintage bowling shoes and the latest tech gear—but they also know all the best places to eat and drink. Here are America’s cities with the biggest hipster scenes." Guess what, guys! We're number 3, behind Seattle and Portland.

If you're not already asleep you can continue on to the full slideshow in which they called Portland "audaciously quirky." For S.F. they note that we were the epicenter of hippie-dom, and now, "The tech age has certainly morphed the city’s hip denizens, who exist in pockets all over the Bay Area, such as the Mission District and South of Market, known as SOMA."

We should note this is the same magazine that called us the twelfth dirtiest city in the nation, and merely the twelfth best city for singles.

Anyway, we'll apologize on their behalf. But for those who get off on lists and feeling superior, you'll be happy to know that we outrank New Orleans in this mysterious "hipster" rating, and New York doesn't even crack the top ten — they're all the way down at number 12, "perhaps because the city’s hippest are far from the tourist zones, tucked away in Manhattan’s Lower East Side, or out in Brooklyn." So, basically they're saying, hipsters are harder to spot, so when it comes to viewing them like monkeys in a zoo but in their natural habitat, you're better off in San Francisco.

[Travel + Leisure]