I remember seeing Disney’s Snow White in a theater; I was around six years old and it is my second memory of going to a movie theater (the first was seeing Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, which scared the crap out of me, particularly the scene where Judge Doom gets run over by the asphalt paving truck). Snow White did not inspire fear in me, despite the fact that the queen demands that her huntsman bring her Snow White’s heart in a jeweled box as proof of her death; this was probably because I didn’t identify with the princess heroine. Rather, I was enamored by the evil queen: her angular and symmetrical features, her thin sparrow wing eyebrows, her dark and brooding makeup, the clean and striking lines of her garments…all of these elements appealed to my six year old self in the most organic and natural way. I didn’t care one iota about what happened to Snow White; I found her to be a simpering, helpless, and, quite frankly, stupid character. The queen, by contrast, had ambition, intelligence, and agency. Her impossibly arched eyebrows said as much.
When I was fourteen, back when MTV actually played actual music videos, I recall seeing NIN’s video for “Closer” and feeling like I had discovered something real. At my high school there was an upper class man who, for Halloween, donned a full length leather trench coat with black angel wings affixed to the back. He wore NIN tee shirts paired with black jeans and Doc Martens boots. I was in awe of him. One day he wore a shirt that had a face that was all angles and shapes with the word “Bauhaus”. I figured that I should try to figure out what it all meant.
This was in 1997, before the internet had developed into the behemoth that we know it as today, so ‘googling’ the word Bauhaus was not an option. Nor could I simply ask the guy: I was a freshman and he was a junior; it would have been breaking some adolescent code to approach him in my ignorance. Luckily, there was a music store in town, about a mile from my house, and one summer day a couple of my friends and I made the trek. I knew what I was looking for and, when we arrived at the store, I bee-lined straight to the ‘B’ section of the Rock and Alternative offerings. I immediately came across a single CD: Bauhaus Volume 1. I bought it immediately, despite still having no idea what this band sounded like.
When I returned home, I popped the CD into my stereo and pressed ‘play’. I didn’t move from my spot on the floor until the album had finished. When it had, I pressed ‘play’ again and listened, entranced, for a second time. I felt like I had discovered something important and visceral and authentic. The dissonant guitar, the droning bass, the heavy hitting percussion all felt like the home I didn’t know I was missing. But it was the warbling tenor bordering on bass vocals intermixed with shrieks and howling that really ensnared me. It was art, it was experimental, it was dark, it was, well, weird in way that was proud of just how weird it was.
A year or so later I was working as a page at my town library. The front desk had a computer with *gasp* internet access. When I was left alone to man the desk, I immediately sat at the computer and, after some trial and error, found a site dedicated to the Goth subculture. It was through this early site that I learned not only the genesis of the subculture, but other bands that I should check out: Siouxsie and the Banshees, Joy Division, The Cure, Sisters of Mercy, and so on. I purchased albums by these cornerstones of Goth as well as a compilation of various Goth artists. I began to dress solely in black and would draw roses on my neck or spiderwebs around my eyes in first period, which was Art class (sometimes my instructors would help me!). Now I was the Goth upperclassman, and the only one in my high school.
There’s a picture of me on move in day at college: I’m wearing a Bauhaus tee shirt and am surrounded by all black. My bed sheets and comforter are black, my stack-able storage crates are black, and I had brought a painting I had done of a white rose glowing against a black background along with an MC Escher print (in a black frame). My dorm-mate was polite but we never really formed a deeper relationship: she had bought gingham bed clothes with a matching picture frame that held a photograph of her long term boyfriend. Gingham. Bed. Sheets. I never felt truly welcome in our room and spent most of my time at my friend’s dorm, which was the dorm for alternative types and artists. I had undiagnosed ADD and I found it impossible to complete my coursework so I left college in September of my sophomore year.
This would have been around 2002, and hipster culture was in its zenith. I may have traded in my black attire for checkered button down shirts and corduroy jackets, but I will forever deny this and proving it would be impossible, as no photographic evidence exists. Whatever may or may not have happened, I was back in black by my mid to late twenties and, if anything, I went ultra Goth: I bought fourteen eye Docs, gave myself multiple piercings (all with black jewelry), penciled in my eyebrows and made black eye shadow part of my daily makeup application, bought leather bondage jewelry and belts from this great little company I discovered (Nemesis Leather is the real deal!), and purchased shirts displaying Goth bands, German Expressionist movies, and MC Escher art. I owned at least four pairs of fishnet stockings in various states of decay and I dyed my stacked bob (with Betty Page bangs) black. I wore black nail polish on my fingernails and toenails and always let it chip like a post- punk early Goth would have.
I am now forty two, and, if anything, I have upped the ante with my appearance: one side and the back of my head are shaved, I have more piercings than ever, and time has allowed me to acquire more Goth attire. I own so many harnesses and corsets that I, myself, don’t even remember each piece. The same goes for my fishnet collection as well as for chokers. One of my favorite things to do is to stop by the local Goth club, have two vodka shots, and then dance on the stage by myself. I find the music soothing and the dancing is like meditating (I often dance with my eyes closed). I recently got engaged to THE MOST WONDERFUL MAN and we are going to have a Goth wedding! Chase the bats, release the bats!
In summation, I have preferred the dark, the weird, and the edgy from a very young age. Halloween was and is my favorite holiday and I still go to cemeteries to read the older headstones. The Cloisters are one of my top spots to visit, especially on an overcast day. As someone who lost her mother at age four and battled depression and anxiety for decades, Goth just seemed right: rather than try for some Ozzie and Harriet false happiness, Goth subculture said “Hey, you are free to be your socially awkward, outcast, nihilistic self; we accept you and understand.” The Goth subculture made me feel like I was still unique, despite being surrounded by people who were just like me. To this day, if I hear the opening chords of “Bella Lugosi’s Dead”, I stop whatever I am doing and dance. With my eyes closed.
Oh, and that upperclassman who unknowingly started me down the Goth rabbit hole found success as one half of a duo who, you guessed it, write and perform Goth music.
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