Posted tagged ‘Gothic clothing’

In the Black

July 14, 2013

Britain has been hit by an unprecedented bout of good weather in the last week or two. There has been winners and losers in the current climate. Ice-cream sales are up umbrella sales are down. A lot of bare flesh that is normally hidden has been exposed, a lot of flesh that is not normally seen has been burned. Should have used factor 25. The unusual sight of clear skies is the antithesis of a full lunar moon yet both occurrences make ordinary individuals act extraordinarily. Madness and folly is widespread amongst the populace but for one clan the seasons remain the same.

In fine weather it makes sense to drape one’s self in light coloured fabric. I don’t know the reason for this, I think it’s something to do with reflection of sunlight or magnetic poles or something else. Probably, something else. Anyway, dark clothing is a no-no. But try telling that to the Goths.

To clear up any confusion let me say straight away that the Goths in question are members of the sub-culture that originated in the early 80’s as a post-punk movement. This anthropological offshoot have certain tastes in music and dress. These are along the lines of dark, brooding tunes and black make-up and clothes. They are not to be confused with the Germanic tribe of olde. The original Goths, a much more interesting breed, would sack their modern day poseur namesakes.

There’s a little Goth shop of horrors in town that stocks the latest clothing but it also sells second-hand music CDs so I sometimes enter their chamber on the look out for a bargain. it was during one of the hottest days of the year I plunged into the darkness.

The shop was empty save for me, the salesman and a Goth lady who was perusing the clothing line. She flicked through the hangars of black, black, black attire and looked a bit sad, though that might have been the deathly mascara masking her true feelings. Maybe she was the life and soul of every party, an incredible creature dripping with personality and good cheer. Using the well-worn quip I said to her.

“What’s the matter? Don’t they have your colour?”

She looked at me. I looked at the salesman. He looked at his can of Kestrel lager and took a sip of it.

“Siouxsie and the Banshees! Kestrel lager! That takes me back. Can you remember when that was only 20p a can?”

“Yes, it’s grave the way prices go up” the salesman answered. I was about to contradict him as without the doom and gloomy economy I wouldn’t have a blog to write but I took sides with the old soldier and we both went into a damned rant about rising costs and how things have changed, usually for the worse. The Goth lady asked if she could have a swig of the liquid gold that is Kestrel. The salesman offered her the can without hesitation. As she copped a lungful I said.

“Curly Wurlys aren’t the same size as they were.”

She spewed the mouthful of Kestrel over the rack of black garments and went into a fit of laughing. She must think Curly Wurly is a funny word. Who said Goths don’t have a sense of humour?