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You behave this way: You're stuck in a cycle of barely-lucid inebriated misery. You claim that "the scene is dead" and that you don't really like going out any more when you're doing bumps on the bus on the way to the same hole you've been languishing in for the last three years. You say that really, all you want to do is move to New York or away to the country and that "all this sex and drugs shit is just because I'm drunk and sad". But you won't move, because you're too poor, lazy and comfortable to do so.They behave this way: The entry-level celebrity hipsters of today keep things relatively sane and straight. They've mastered the balancing act necessary to keep the paps interested in 2013 without publicly nurturing the kind of drug or drink habit that scares corporate money away. They're supposedly very rock 'n' roll, but they're not rocking up at the Sheraton at 7AM with Chloe Sevigny, they're quietly discussing the latest Bond film in the smoking area of the Groucho with James Corden and Rio Ferdinand. Rather than getting their goons to break paparazzi jaws, they're flicking V-signs at them and smiling the whole time they're doing it.My advice: Stop being so bitter about that art foundation not getting you a commission from Nike and just tag along with these guys. Become a hanger on rather than a hat stand. Your model is: the people who chased the dragon with Doherty in 2005, rather than those who rode its scaly back to Parisian oblivion in 2013. Follow that advice and you'll find yourself referred to in a free-sheet photo caption as "unknown male friend" or "worse for wear blonde" in no time, like this playsuited fucking Zelig, who seems to have wormed his way into a position where he gets to go to the kind of party you'd talk about for years every night of the week.
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You hang out here: If you're relatively new to the city and still looking for adventure on Friday nights, rather than collapsing with weary fatalism into the same old routine, then you'll probably be found at the community arts venues, rooftop cocktail bars and converted pool halls of South London. If you're jaded, then it's the toilet cubicles, kebab shops and converted pool halls of East London for you. If you don't live in London, you probably wish you did.They hang out here: If you're enraged by the previous paragraph and often utter the phrase "trendy London bollocks", the epicentre of what you hate is Dalston. For whatever reason, the entry-level celebrity hipsters have decided to invade this simpering hell of "creatives" looking into their iPhones while they talk to you and youth TV presenters doing bumps of gak in council estate playgrounds.My advice: They may be slumming it at the Alibi, but their hearts will always yearn for Movida;they like lots of ice in their drinks, carpeted dancefloors that won't ruin their shoes and not being bear-hugged by hallucinating kitchen fitters from Loughton. So when the cheques start coming in from the sponsors desperate to get their products into Rita Ora's Instagram feed and the tabloids you sold compromising photos to, put half of it aside. You'll need it to buy clothes that will allow you entry to the sort of shitty West End clubs these guys will eventually retreat to, the kinds of places where the Cristal daiquiris are always either free or picked up by junior sheikhs with indecent assault convictions.
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You take: Anything that "Rico" has got his hands on that week: Persil-laced coke, MDMA dyed pink by the lottery ticket it came in, acid the guys from that New York band brought over with them, moral panic skunk and enough cans of Red Stripe to build a Frank Gehry building with.They take: A more traditional approach to their chemical follies. I don't doubt that they take cocaine, but is that even a drug any more? If it is, it's one for Nissan salesmen at Christmas parties and rugby league players in Swansea nightclubs. Perhaps if you're going at it like Ike Turner in the 80s it might still seem decadent, but not if it's a few keys of your A&R guy's stash backstage at V.My advice: The shadows of Doherty and Winehouse seem to loom large over London, serving as a reminder that while the hard stuff might help convince a few members of the public you're a hedonistic genius, it inevitably shortens your lifespan or sends you straight to reality TV purgatory. Where the generation before them took inspiration from Rimbaud, the current crop seems to prefer 80s-style corporate debauchery. So just sit tight, keep pace with the rest of the powder peloton and bring some magnesium along to keep pictures of your face turning into an Escher drawing out of the Sundays. You don't want to freak anyone out.

You befriend: While you might go around waxing lyrical about your "people" and how much they mean to you, chances are you're only friends with them because you work with them, or they occasionally respond to coked-up booty calls. It's a jungle out there, and you need as many people who are willing to put up with your bullshit as you can get. But ask yourself this: If an unlicensed cab driver stabbed you to death tomorrow, how many of your "mates" would grieve beyond the cursory Facebook update?
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WHAT TO LISTEN TO
You Listen to: You pride yourself on your ear for finding the new shit and the range of music that your ear is willing to embrace. Right now, you're probably into Detroit tech, Chicago drill, Iceage, the new Rustie, the old Rashad, "Turn Off The Lights" by Future, Jeremih, most of the stuff Bok Bok plays and the least popular output of a couple of older acts, like "Shake" Shakir or Fleetwood Mac.
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You wear: Whatever you fucking want. Stuff that looks like an American teenager wore it in the 1980s. Your pyjamas.They wear: This is somewhat gender dependent. If they're a girl, chances are they're gonna be pretty much "on trend", because they set the trends. All those girls wearing beanies in the Trafford Centre? Ora and Delevingne started that. They dress wacky to pick up jpeg inches, which is fashion, which is cool.
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You create: Nothing of any worth, ever.They create: Ditto, but with a lot more money wasted on it.Follow Clive on Twitter: @thugcliveMore!We Went On a Quest to Find the New DalstonA Big Night Out at… a Fashion Week Party!The VICE Guide to Dating Rich Girls
