I’ve been a goth for about 15 years now. And it still makes me smile.
People reactions make me smile. Because I don’t look goth, see. I no longer dye my hair black, no longer paint my lips black, no longer wear black mesh tops and spiky collars. But I’m still the same. Still love the same architectural trends, the same artists, the same bands. I still do a lot of DIY stuff. But I don’t look like what the typical goth cliché, so people are slightly embarrassed. I got used to it.
In France, they say being a blonde looks lame for a goth. In Manchester, they say it’s interesting. Manchester is a gothic heaven. In terms of architecture, too. But I digress.
Funny that so many people don’t realize DIY is a core base of the goth culture. Imagine my face when people say « I didn’t know goth could sew/knit/paint/cook/enjoy gardening and watering the plants/you name it ». Yes, we love trying to do things on our own. Yes I love baking cakes and watering my toxic solanums. Yes I collected fabrics from a diseased neighbour and I’m planning to sew stuff with it. I love patchwork, I love velvet, I love mesh. I even tried doing patchwork with mesh but it was quite tricky. I love making lace, tatting, knitting, crocheting, whatever. As long as there are holes in it, I’m happy.
Talking about death. I’d be rich if I had earned a dollar each time I heard « goth are obsessed with death ». I don’t think we are. But maybe we’re better at copping with it. For me, death is part of life. It’s horrid and nobody wants to deal with it, but you can’t turn a blind eye on it, it’s going to happen to everyone anyway. So maybe we’re more comfortable with the idea of death because we had a long journey learning how to be at peace with it.
No goth likes to be defined. We’re different. We’re open-minded. We’re happy. We’re talented and strong.
Maybe that’s not enough, but whatever. Life goes on.