make some clothespin people before you choke on your own hipness

I wanted to like the Renegade Craft Fair, but I didn't.

First of all, McCarren Park is a scorchingly hot, treeless hellplain marked by irregular patches of sickly grass. Also, there were no food or drink vendors anywhere in sight, and I did look before sun poisoning forced me back onto the L.

But the real issue: when I attend a craft fair, I want to buy inexpensive, kooky tchotkes from old ladies or dorky-but-hip-in-their-own-way girls who latch-hook or decoupage as a hobby, or to drown the pain of the Golden Girls no longer being in production.

I do not want to buy pricey, ultra-hip shirts and purses and hats made in small batches by DIY "designers" with their own logos and product lines and websites.

Oh, look, it's a felt purse with Rosie the Riveter on it. Oh, look, it's a stuffed tampon with a happy, feminist face on it. Oh, look -- it looks like Jane magazine threw up.