Sacrebleu! Gothic Hotpants!

I read on Twitter this morning today, May 22, is World Goth Day, and since it's also Throwback Thursday, it seems like a good time to pull out these photos I've been sitting on for the last three weeks. Do you remember that one time, three weeks ago... anyway. 

First, a disclaimer: these shorts are not blue. They're parrot green, same as the socks. But even after a quick trip through Photoshop, they still show up blue. Please use your imagination to color-correct. Thank you. 

Second, I am not pulling them up, I'm holding my suspenders. These shorts just fit that way.  Ahem.

Third, I did indeed leave the house in this outfit. Three weeks ago, I went to Death Guild, that old gothic chestnut and perennial San Francisco institution, for a friend's birthday, and this is what I wore. 

I used to go to goth clubs regularly and frequently, though I never much identified as a goth. A friend I used to go out with said we were gravers - goth ravers; had we been in New York, I bet we'd have been club kids. Regardless the title, we used the pageantry of the goth club as an excuse to wear costumes while dancing to good music. 

My personal costuming angle was to eschew the all-black look and dress colorfully. It was a conceptual decision I guess, probably some act of rebellion against gothic convention though frankly at this point I don't remember. But it was fun and lead to more than one occasion of being the belle of the ball (probably because I was the only person in the darkened club with a visible outfit). 

I've had these wonderful, colorful velour tap shorts for ages. They were a hand-me-down gift from a friend. The crisp white shirt is thrift. I think the suspenders are from H&M but it's possible I picked them up at a shop by the Santa Monica pier like twenty years ago. The shoes - oh my beloved Frankenstein shoes! - are also ancient and historical; I got them in the Stonestown Mall in 2000 when I was working as a gift wrapper at Nordstrom's. The scarf is from Clair's Boutique, another mall score, and is secretly the greatest because the patern is a gazillion tiny skull-&-bones, and the fabric is a silky acetate that drapes so perfectly. For the warm layer, I wore this three-quarter sleeve velveteen jacket I found at my favorite thrift store, and carried this redonk little death rock purse I've had since the dawn of time and probably also got at the mall. 

The "warm layer".

Detail of the scarf. Right? Right!

White Shoe, Green Shoe.

I'm not a white shoe wearer. Folks say, "no white shoes after Labor Day." And I'm like, "no white shoes before Labor Day, either." Today, though, I wish I had white shoes. Went full matchy-matchy monochrome with the green, though, which were bought new. 

My aunt got me the dress from a thrift shop in Palm Springs. Belt is also thrift, bracelet is clothing exchange. The frames I bought new in SoHo NYC; the money I save on new clothes I spend on copious pairs of expensive glasses. 

The Uniform

Yesterday was long & at the end of it all, I still felt good about this outfit, which is a strong sign of wearing the right thing. Even stronger sign: this was the third day this week I've worn these jeans & shoes. They're turning into something of a uniform. 

The shoes are thrift, the jeans a hand-me-down gift. The belt is from a buy-sell-trade shop, the shirt is from a clothing exchange, & the hat I bought new about twelve years ago at Sears in downtown Oakland.

Avant & Après Costume

We had a party at our house last night. The defining feature of our parties is the costume crate. The crate operates incognito as a side table most the time, but for parties, we push back the sofa, pull the crate into the middle of the living room, put on its vintage polyester coordinate sets, purple wigs, spandex dance leotards, Hot Topic poet shirts, and tericloth kaftans, and then dance to Beyoncé till the break of dawn.

Behind me in this picture is the aftermath of the party. There are no costumes in the crate; they are all on the floor. 

The outfit I have on was my before-&-after-costumes outfit. Part of being a good hostess, of course, means gagueing the exact moment when the costumes should happen. It can't be forced, it must be allowed to flow, and until it does, I can't just stand around in my underwear; I had to wear something, so this was it.

My aunt bought this dress for me in Palm Springs from the thrift shop where she volunteers. As you can see, it's unstructured and asymmetrical, and she was skeptical, but I think it works. The cuff bracelet is from a clothing swap. The shoes - notice, if you will, the cantilever heel -were bought new, though I've had them for years and had to glue them back together recently, so at this point they might count as refurbished. 

I shot this just after six in the morning, right before sunrise, while listening to Super Tramp. I was the last one standing at the party, everyone else had left or was asleep. And though I'm in bed now, the sun is up, albeit behind fog, so I'm having my seventeenth wind and can't sleep. Good morning. 

Me + This Dress = Love

This epic little dress was a hand-me-down gift from a friend. You can't really see, but it has subtle gray stripes. I want to wear it everyday for the rest of my life. Sandals bought new, and I'd like to wear them everyday, too. Glasses added last minute as a security measure (because I feel more secure with my glasses on).