A friend and fellow scriptwriter writer and blogger (check out the rather excellent Velvet Empire link on the right) sent me the following email this morning:‘I was dining in Pizza Express in Soho last night when two middle-aged Goths on a date came and sat at the table opposite. It was a treat for the eyes to see two ageing Goths in full regalia (stack-soled shoes, red fishnet tights, him with long flowing dyed black hair, her with neatly plaited dyed black hair and a skull-encrusted staff resting in the umbrella holder by the door) holding hands over a Margherita (extra pepperoni) and fanning themselves with their feather-plumed fans. Sadly, as my companion pointed out, you don't see as many Goths as you used to these days. However chivalry is not dead in the Goth world and I'm pleased to report that Mr Goth paid the full bill. I wonder if they met on GothicMatch.com?’
You have been warned. Goth-spotting will soon be an Olympic sport…
3 comments:
If only there were more Goths in the world (am pleased to see you've given them a capital G - as in 'God'), there would be more of these heart-warming tales of love from the black hearts. Sigh. I shall keep my eyes peeled and stay vigilant for further news...
Anybody helping to protect and log the endangered world of Goth should automatically qualify for National Trust Special Observer status in my humble opinion.
There is a Goth I know in Yeovil who for the past 10 years (and counting) has sported the same chainmail grey jumper, which he worried away at the cuffs so he could poke his thumbs through. His Goth status is 100% certified. Not only has he dated twin Goth sisters (one with green hair, one with red), but he has never washed his hair in the whole time I've known him (unlike the new-breed of Goths who sport hair that looks so well conditioned you can almost hear them saying, "Because I'm worth it". Amateurs), and he's 'sort-of-mates' with Jaz Coleman of Killing Joke (well, he pestered him a bit after a few gigs).
Post a Comment