Undisputedly hilarious. Each 'Unhip' entry is anywhere from a single paragraph to two pages in length and although you turn the pages with trepidation, it is trepidation-with-giggles. It's like a comic version of Russian roulette: you hope NOT to find yourself in the next entry, you turn the page and – Bang! - another cringeworthy 'Unhip' custard pie splats squarely in your fizzog! No matter how 'Hip' you think you are, the likelihood of you getting through this book unscathed is zero (or less).
Convinced you're 'Unhip' to the marrow? Relax, you're in good company.
If you're so far beyond the pale that you have no idea what being 'Hip' or 'Unhip' means, this book is a must-read for you. Why? Because it will clarify your niche, perhaps for the first time in your life, in the sociocultural context, which means, at the very least, that if your friends continue to snigger behind your back about your Gilbert O'Sullivan albums, you will know enough to retaliate with sniggers of your own: tidy homes; bungalows; sitting downstairs on the bus: go get 'em!
Regardless of whether we consider(ed) ourselves 'Hip' or 'Unhip' or simply clueless, Little Guide to Unhip's wise and witty entries join together to provide us with an understanding of ourselves in relation to our culture and our perception of how we have or have not adjusted to it. Or even if we have never given it a thought or, ('The horror! The horror!') have been completely unaware of it.
You might think you're above all this facile trivia – if so, be afraid, be very afraid, as this merely indicates an off-the-scale level of naiveté: it will hurt all the more when you laugh as the beige rug is pulled from beneath your feet...
All this and the wonderful bonus of Kate Rigby's autobiographical vignettes scattered throughout.
Guinea pigs? Elasticated waists? Committees? Umbrellas? Holiday in Austria? You need this book!