Why, you ask, would anyone want to screw up their pictures? I dunno, I think it looks kinda neat. It reminds me of my childhood in a good way, and not that many things remind me of childhood in a good way. And ok, I’ll say it: It’s hip.

I got to thinking — and giggling — about the whole Hipstamatic thing on Saturday, as Sophie and I sat through Yo Gabba Gabba Live.

For the undoctrinated, Yo Gabba Gabba is like the Teletubbies on acid: imaginary characters dressed up in huge costumes, ready to teach your kids to be nice. And to eat healthy food, not to bite, that kind of thing.

But the thing that sets Yo Gabba Gabba apart is that — with funky bright colors, and guest stars like Jack Black and Amy Sedaris, and alt bands like the Ting Tings — it’s hip. Aggressively hip. Tragically hip? I can’t really say. Maybe, if you don’t have a kid. But if you do have a kid, you’re just really freaking relieved that you don’t have to watch the Teletubbies or the dozens of other kid shows that aren’t much better.

I’ve never seen so many dads at a live kid show, but there they were in their goateed and Conversed glory (moms, too — I spotted a “Yo Gabba Momma” bumper sticker in the parking lot), and for the most part, they looked more interested in the show than their toddlers. To be fair, it can be hard to get toddlers to appreciate live entertainment. Mostly the under-four set just wants to pee or throw up or throw a tantrum.

Sophie was one of the oldest kids and she liked it, but really she mostly endured it, because I told her that after the show, she’d get to meet Foofa, her favorite Yo Gabba Gabba character. Foofa’s “thing” is that she’s happy all the time. She’s pink and puffy and has a flower on her head. I skipped the $10 plastic headband with the white Foofa flower hot glue-gunned to the top, but I did get Sophie a tee shirt, and couldn’t help but hold my own hipster photo session in the parking lot, after the after party. 

Because yes, I paid (a lot) to attend the after party. It was the only way I knew Sophie’d get near the characters, and Sophie’s all about the close encounter. It was pretty lame, but mission accomplished: Sophie got to hug Foofa.

She seemed pretty ecstatic about it. But maybe not.

When I bought the tickets months ago, Sophie was still way into YGG, but lately she’s been all Oliva the Pig, all the time, so while she acted excited (she did put her Yo Gabba Gabba panties on for the occasion — thought of that all on her own), I think she was just trying to make me happy. Come to think of it, she didn’t mention the show once after we got home. Not like her. She was way more excited about the porcelain Olivia tea set she got for Hanukkah that night.

Sophie doesn’t care that Olivia’s not as hip as Foofa. And I haven’t asked but she probably thinks my photos have been looking a little screwed up lately, too.