So it seems I never got over the time many years ago when Jarboe came to play Toronto (cue mega excitement), only for it to transpire to be in some highfalutin goth club with a dress code. This totally conflicted with my dress code of take me as I am or don’t take me at all, and left me with the dilemma of dress up or miss out.

Overlooking the urge not to comply on principle, there was the other aspect of what to wear if deciding to concede. I don’t, and am sure I’m not alone here, keep a goth suit in the wardrobe for such occasions. Apart from anything else, this would’ve been the only occasion I’d needed it, and the suit I do keep for any occasion warranting one is far from a gothic cut indeed; meaning, to have got in, I would’ve had to wear a non goth suit, so leaving me sticking out like a sore non-gothic thumb, whereas my usual attire would at least have pinned me in the ballpark of someone not adverse to that sort of thing.

Thus the concert remained thoroughly exclusive to the upper gothic classes; who, from what I’m told, were none too impressed when Jarboe took to the stage with tiny cymbals, sat down and began to chant. Given that was pretty much the gist of Jarboe’s latest album at the time, I would’ve loved that; but as most people were there to wear their posh goth gear in an exclusive goth club . . .

To be fair, it’s the only time something like this has happened. Really, then, the below verse is directed and dedicated to that goth club and that goth club alone (though it should be said, I’ve found the wallpaper pretentiously irritating in quite a few others), but you know how these things are with cults: the brush dipped in tar must feather one and all!

I didn’t think there’d be much chance of finding a suitable usable image of a goth club filled with posh goths, but that soon didn’t matter when finding Bryan Ledgard’s brilliant image ‘Goths and chips‘. Bryan, it turns out, has taken tons of great goth-related pics at the Whitby goth fest; they can be seen on flickr here. My thanks to Brian for making some available for use. Alt text: five female goths in fancy attire eat fish and chips while leaning on a railing that has Whitby inlet behind and below it; in the background on the other side of the water is a row of mostly white houses.

I wish
Goth clubs
Didn’t
Make thee
Dress up
Just to listen
To twangy
Guitar
And melancholy
Vocals
Saturated
In echo
And the
Essence
Of dry ice
So what
If I don’t
Want to wear
Eyeliner
A top hat and
Winkle pickers
Pretentious
Fun wreckers
I hope they spill
Goth soup
All over their
Posh suits

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