Goth till I die
So why make a film about Goth? In developing Goth Cruise with Tigerlily I wrote the following statement to explain why I wanted to make the film. I think for this blog it's as good a start as any. I sadly do not have any photographic evidence of my previous exisitence.
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When I was 17 years old I threw out my pink, bought a black fringed skirt from Phaze in Middlesbrough, crimped my dyed hair, bought Bauhaus’ back catalogue and gave my heart to Robert Smith. The pop charts didn’t offer solace for my troubled adolescent heart in the same way that Andrew Eldridge and Morrissey could. When he sang - “I wear black on the outside because black is how I feel on the inside” - it was like he had written it just for me.
I was a Goth.
Growing up in the North East of England within spitting distance of Whitby, the home of Dracula, there were pretty much two choices of tribe available to me: Goth or not.
I enjoyed the easy access rebellion, the opportunity it gave me to revel in the darker side of life and the kinship I felt with my newfound brothers and sisters in black. It enabled me to assert my independence from my parents and toughened me up. I felt the dual pleasures of revelling in the attention my outrageous outfits elicited and resenting the hassle I received from ‘townies’ that didn’t understand my life or choice of outfit.
After 2 years of being a card-carrying member of the Goth community I started to tire of black, black, black and more black. Art College beckoned and I felt that there were different ways to express my individuality than wearing the cookie cutter uniform of a dark rebel. Gradually the black in my wardrobe was replaced by more and more colour and less than six months later Goth was merely a phase I had gone through.
Over 15 years later I attended the wedding of an old school friend. At school she was the archetypal Souxsie Sioux Goth with giant crimped hair and heavily kohled eyes that parents despised and I loved. Now in her early 40’s, when she walked down the aisle we were met with the proof of what happens if you never grow out of Goth. She was a vision in black, channelling Mortiticia Adams from her floor length gown to her black veil. She was so exotic that I couldn’t help but feel like a ‘mundane’ and admire her commitment and staying power.
Seeing this face from my past who really seemed to embody “Goth till I die” made me want to find other Goths who had also stayed the distance. Within a few clicks I had found thousands of them. Goth is as alive and well today as it was in the eighties when Bela Legosi’s Dead was first released.
I wanted to know:
What is the enduring allure of Goth that people all over the world find so appealing?
Why do some people commit to Goth for life?
How do grown up Goths earn a living, raise families and have fun?
Just what the hell happens on a Goth Cruise?
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When I was 17 years old I threw out my pink, bought a black fringed skirt from Phaze in Middlesbrough, crimped my dyed hair, bought Bauhaus’ back catalogue and gave my heart to Robert Smith. The pop charts didn’t offer solace for my troubled adolescent heart in the same way that Andrew Eldridge and Morrissey could. When he sang - “I wear black on the outside because black is how I feel on the inside” - it was like he had written it just for me.
I was a Goth.
Growing up in the North East of England within spitting distance of Whitby, the home of Dracula, there were pretty much two choices of tribe available to me: Goth or not.
I enjoyed the easy access rebellion, the opportunity it gave me to revel in the darker side of life and the kinship I felt with my newfound brothers and sisters in black. It enabled me to assert my independence from my parents and toughened me up. I felt the dual pleasures of revelling in the attention my outrageous outfits elicited and resenting the hassle I received from ‘townies’ that didn’t understand my life or choice of outfit.
After 2 years of being a card-carrying member of the Goth community I started to tire of black, black, black and more black. Art College beckoned and I felt that there were different ways to express my individuality than wearing the cookie cutter uniform of a dark rebel. Gradually the black in my wardrobe was replaced by more and more colour and less than six months later Goth was merely a phase I had gone through.
Over 15 years later I attended the wedding of an old school friend. At school she was the archetypal Souxsie Sioux Goth with giant crimped hair and heavily kohled eyes that parents despised and I loved. Now in her early 40’s, when she walked down the aisle we were met with the proof of what happens if you never grow out of Goth. She was a vision in black, channelling Mortiticia Adams from her floor length gown to her black veil. She was so exotic that I couldn’t help but feel like a ‘mundane’ and admire her commitment and staying power.
Seeing this face from my past who really seemed to embody “Goth till I die” made me want to find other Goths who had also stayed the distance. Within a few clicks I had found thousands of them. Goth is as alive and well today as it was in the eighties when Bela Legosi’s Dead was first released.
I wanted to know:
What is the enduring allure of Goth that people all over the world find so appealing?
Why do some people commit to Goth for life?
How do grown up Goths earn a living, raise families and have fun?
Just what the hell happens on a Goth Cruise?
Labels: Goth till I die
posted by Jeanie at
2:16 AM
1 Comments:
Perhaps you might take a chance during the cruise to "re-dress" the lack of a photo of you in The Glory of Goth . . . well worth doing I would say
Bon Voyage!
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