Not a Spooky Girl
If you ask my mother she will tell you I was born strange.
That as a little girl I saw things and dreamed things that normal girls didn't. That my imagination was wild and out of control and filled to the brim with everything odd.
As I got older it didn't change. I wore things to school that are rather popular today, but back then, big black boots tucked into jeans wasn't fashionable. My favorite outfit was my big black boots and a maroon velvet jacket circa 1960. I loved it. I got teased for it.
I didn't care all that much.
I listened to different things. I watched different things. I wrote different things. I didn't like the crappy Hot Topic Revolution, but I respected others' choice. I enjoyed the cut of their black on black clothes, although I thought the corset construction was sub par.
I was never a goth.
Except that according to the outside world, I was.
I just didn't know it. I didn't know my love for The Cure and Duran Duran were both part of a proud subculture birthed by Punk and tempered in the forge of New Wave. Bauhaus, New Order, Depeche Mode . . . The lyrics were what I most enjoyed. The thoughts on individualism and art . . . The dreams of kitschy sci fi and the romanticism of Victorian Gothic serials.
I spun Blondie's Parallel Lines record after I found it for 50 cents at the Salvation Army. I wore big boots tucked into jeans and a jacket covered in pins, not because I saw it in a magazine, but because I loved the Revolutionary War. I watched anime and read Anne Rice to dissect it all, not because it was popular to do. I drew complicated things like 1920's flappers getting eaten by happy cats. I got my nose pierced and sewed corsets and experimented with a dark 1940's look that my grandmother loved and contributed to. I loved color and light. I didn't just wear black. I wore red and hot pink and bright yellow and orange. I cut up t-shirts and wore crazy earrings and Egyptian khol on my eyes to look like Nefertiti.
I was never sad, depressed, or unhappy. I did not enjoy screaming lyrics. I enjoyed screaming souls. I enjoyed the dirty sounds of Billy Idol and the delicious Mr. Vicious. Oh Sid . . .
I wanted my Holy Grail. I wanted a pair of Docs in every color. Not because someone else had them, but because I wanted to team them with super short skirts. I wanted to be assertive and dreamy like Weetzie Bat. I wanted to wail like Siouxsie Sioux. I didn't like dark and cold rain or dreary lives, but I loved Victorian elegance and had an 18-inch waist when tight laced into a corset.
I wasn't living as a Spooky Kid.
I was living as myself.
I didn't come out of my subculture closet until I was twenty. I didn't think there were actual people like me left. I didn't want to listen to Nu-Metal and random death rock. I wanted to talk about the dark fae and mythology. I wanted to drink absinthe in a black vinyl corset, while I dangled a cigarette holder. I wanted to listen to Joy Division as I sewed a new gored skirt. I wanted to dye my hair day glo purple and wear my nose ring connected to my earing like a Bollywood courtesan. I wanted to lay on the floor of my eclectic living room and listen to musical revolutions.
Not because it was cool. Not because I discovered Davey Havok before MTV. Not because I wanted to shock my mother. It was just me. I wasn't looking to belong. I was just looking to make myself happy.
Hollywood (the city) helped that.
Hollywood loves its Freaks. Loves it Glam Punk leftovers. Girls in plaid skirts and asymmetrical green hair. Not because its a subculture, but because its them. They remember the music. The writing. The thoughts on being yourself.
For me, it was all about finally just being myself. I just enjoy being myself.
When I think of the Gothic subculture, I subtract Spooky Kids and add its history. Without the entire genre we would never have Indie, Electronica, or even Dance. For those of you about to fight me on Indie, you should know you'll lose. Too many of them sound like Robert Smith, and you know it. And they are all the children of punk.
Goth Music started in the '70s. It evolved and changed and was more (and is more) than Hot Topic can ever be. Los Angeles. England. Germany. All of them combined fantastic music and dress to create a social group based on philosophy, art, and music. Always the music.
Goth is far more diverse than Marilyn Manson and a dumbass in a trench coat.
So much so, in fact, that people branded as goth by others don't consider themselves Goths. Someone in the LA Club scene would probably murder you if you called them so. They don't consider themselves Goth. They consider themselves . . . alternative to the mainstream.
I can get behind that.
I always could.
That as a little girl I saw things and dreamed things that normal girls didn't. That my imagination was wild and out of control and filled to the brim with everything odd.
As I got older it didn't change. I wore things to school that are rather popular today, but back then, big black boots tucked into jeans wasn't fashionable. My favorite outfit was my big black boots and a maroon velvet jacket circa 1960. I loved it. I got teased for it.
I didn't care all that much.
I listened to different things. I watched different things. I wrote different things. I didn't like the crappy Hot Topic Revolution, but I respected others' choice. I enjoyed the cut of their black on black clothes, although I thought the corset construction was sub par.
I was never a goth.
Except that according to the outside world, I was.
I just didn't know it. I didn't know my love for The Cure and Duran Duran were both part of a proud subculture birthed by Punk and tempered in the forge of New Wave. Bauhaus, New Order, Depeche Mode . . . The lyrics were what I most enjoyed. The thoughts on individualism and art . . . The dreams of kitschy sci fi and the romanticism of Victorian Gothic serials.
I spun Blondie's Parallel Lines record after I found it for 50 cents at the Salvation Army. I wore big boots tucked into jeans and a jacket covered in pins, not because I saw it in a magazine, but because I loved the Revolutionary War. I watched anime and read Anne Rice to dissect it all, not because it was popular to do. I drew complicated things like 1920's flappers getting eaten by happy cats. I got my nose pierced and sewed corsets and experimented with a dark 1940's look that my grandmother loved and contributed to. I loved color and light. I didn't just wear black. I wore red and hot pink and bright yellow and orange. I cut up t-shirts and wore crazy earrings and Egyptian khol on my eyes to look like Nefertiti.
I was never sad, depressed, or unhappy. I did not enjoy screaming lyrics. I enjoyed screaming souls. I enjoyed the dirty sounds of Billy Idol and the delicious Mr. Vicious. Oh Sid . . .
I wanted my Holy Grail. I wanted a pair of Docs in every color. Not because someone else had them, but because I wanted to team them with super short skirts. I wanted to be assertive and dreamy like Weetzie Bat. I wanted to wail like Siouxsie Sioux. I didn't like dark and cold rain or dreary lives, but I loved Victorian elegance and had an 18-inch waist when tight laced into a corset.
I wasn't living as a Spooky Kid.
I was living as myself.
I didn't come out of my subculture closet until I was twenty. I didn't think there were actual people like me left. I didn't want to listen to Nu-Metal and random death rock. I wanted to talk about the dark fae and mythology. I wanted to drink absinthe in a black vinyl corset, while I dangled a cigarette holder. I wanted to listen to Joy Division as I sewed a new gored skirt. I wanted to dye my hair day glo purple and wear my nose ring connected to my earing like a Bollywood courtesan. I wanted to lay on the floor of my eclectic living room and listen to musical revolutions.
Not because it was cool. Not because I discovered Davey Havok before MTV. Not because I wanted to shock my mother. It was just me. I wasn't looking to belong. I was just looking to make myself happy.
Hollywood (the city) helped that.
Hollywood loves its Freaks. Loves it Glam Punk leftovers. Girls in plaid skirts and asymmetrical green hair. Not because its a subculture, but because its them. They remember the music. The writing. The thoughts on being yourself.
For me, it was all about finally just being myself. I just enjoy being myself.
When I think of the Gothic subculture, I subtract Spooky Kids and add its history. Without the entire genre we would never have Indie, Electronica, or even Dance. For those of you about to fight me on Indie, you should know you'll lose. Too many of them sound like Robert Smith, and you know it. And they are all the children of punk.
Goth Music started in the '70s. It evolved and changed and was more (and is more) than Hot Topic can ever be. Los Angeles. England. Germany. All of them combined fantastic music and dress to create a social group based on philosophy, art, and music. Always the music.
Goth is far more diverse than Marilyn Manson and a dumbass in a trench coat.
So much so, in fact, that people branded as goth by others don't consider themselves Goths. Someone in the LA Club scene would probably murder you if you called them so. They don't consider themselves Goth. They consider themselves . . . alternative to the mainstream.
I can get behind that.
I always could.