Thank goodness for books and stories. It’s nice to entangle yourself in imaginary dramas while trying not to freak out too much about your own human problems. I’ll not say that I was totally unaware of the passage of time while I waited an eternity for these results, but resourceful Blossom Culp scaring bullies from Old Man Leverette’s outhouse really helped to distract me.
“Probably” benign, huh. I guess that’s maybe “reassuring”?
Natalie Westling in ‘Mourning Glory’ by Inez & Vinoodh for W Magazine, September 2015
I mean…the title says it all, doesn’t it? I’ve never been comfortable calling myself “goth,” and I think this mostly has to do with the fact that I didn’t listen to The Cure in high school (it was Iron Maiden and King Diamond for me) I’m lukewarm about Nick Cave (but I guess I am coming around to him) and I have never once made myself up to look like Siouxsie Sioux.
I’ve written about this before and it’s no big deal, but I just don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression, like I’m some sort of dyed-in-the-wool, old-school Goth Kid. I like cats and darkness. That’s about it. Oh yeah. And black clothes!
So I guess the title of this post should have been How To Wear Black Clothes In The Summertime When You’re A Goth Fraud And Summer Is Almost Over But Summer Is Never Really Over In Florida And Oh Yeah I Guess I Like Nick Cave Now.
With the exception of the first one (which I just created two minutes ago, as an update to this post–and I will probably do the same next year!) Many of these are older ensembles I created, but honestly, looking at them all, I feel like I could have put these together yesterday. They all feel pretty timeless to me! No details are included for these particular ones because as they are from a few years ago, the information is no longer available. Otherwise, I have linked to more details! As always, if there’s anything you want to know more about, drop me a line or leave a comment, and I will try to recall it for you!
A gathering of death-related links that I have encountered in the past month or so. From heart-rending to gut-splitting (sometimes you gotta laugh, you know?) from informative to insightful to sometimes just downright weird and creepy, here’s a snippet of recent items that have been reported on or journaled about with regard to death, dying, and matters of mortality.
After yesterday’s complaint lamenting my disappointment with regard to inappropriate cardigans and their accompanying pop singer’s fall music, a few individuals asked if I might post a playlist featuring some favorite seasonal music as the summer wanes and we enter the dark and dying time of the year. So I thought it might be time for a new mixtape!
While these are not all-time favorites, they are some things that I’ve been enjoying recently, and no doubt sometime over the next month or so, I’ll compile a bit of a remix of a decades+ worth of fall favorites. Until then…
A presage of echoes, an autumnal presque vu: The Unforgetfulness of the Hollow Heart
I really want to hear what all the rest of you are hearing. I’ve never been a huge Taylor Swift fan, but it’s not like I …don’t…not…like her? But what totally fucked everything up for me and closed my mind to the wonders of Folklore that you’re all singing the praises of, was just…well, she’s singing about this old cardigan, right? I’m sure that conjures all kinds of old-cardigan imagery for all kinds of people and I am not saying that there is ONE OLD CARDIGAN TO RULE THEM ALL, but come on. Your video stylist really did you dirty, Taylor Swift. Because this is NOT the old grandpa-handknit-cabled-pilling- mothball smelling-cottagecore old cardigan that we deserve.
This is like…80’s movie Chad’s varsity tennis cardigan, bleached as white as his stupid expensive bleached asshole, probably. Are varsity and tennis two words that even go together? This is how far removed I am from that world, I guess?
SO when Chad Mc80sMovie Bleached-Asshole Esquire III’s freshly laundered Ralph Lauren tennis sweater apparated onto that piano bench …basically…this is when I stopped listening.
What I find even more offensive is that you can actually purchase this very same cardigan. NO! This is not the cardigan you are looking for, Taylor Swift! You want some version of this one, except you don’t want to have paid full price for it, or bought it new, or even have bought it at all. You want to have inherited it from your sleepy Pop-Pop on your mother’s side. You want to have scrounged it out of someone’s weekend yard sale, you want to have stolen it from your ex. This cardigan should have memories and dreams and the past woven into it along with dog hair and whiskers and toast crumbs.
If you’re gonna wrap yourself in something warm and cozy after a hazy trip to the watery interior of Pianolandia, there are way better vessels to cocoon yourself in. It doesn’t have to be my suggestion, but for god’s sake, don’t let it be the one featured in this video.
If you enjoy posts like these or if you have ever enjoyed or been inspired by something I have written, and you would like to support this blog, consider buying the author a coffee?
The series of action figures from Galoob was set in a world “before history on earth when myth and magic still existed.” Golden Girl and her Guardians, named after precious stones, protected the powerful vaguely-named Gemstone from the evil clutches of the pink-haired-and-amazingly-rad Dragon Queen from Storm Isle, who would ostensibly get up to no good with it and use it to take over Argonia.
I was just reading on a forum that She-ra was introduced to the world in October 1984, and Golden Girl showed up that very next month, so I’m guessing it was some sort of knock-off cashing in on She-ra popularity (maybe?) But man. Look at this lot. There’s a campy gravitas and a ferocity here that She-ra was lacking and I think this could have been a very different thing altogether. I mean–those villains! (THOSE FASHIONS!)
Funny story. My family moved to FL from Ohio in 1985, I would have been about 9 years old. I actually had a few of these Golden Girl dolls. It was a Friday or Saturday night, not long after we had moved into our new house and my sisters and I were super excited to see that Golden Girl was listed in the TV Guide (remember that thing?) As you can imagine, that show was…not what we thought it was going to be. But in the end, we adored Dorothy, Blanche, Rose, and Sophia anyway!
I don’t think Golden Girl ever did get a television show–I’m not even sure if there was one in the works–but in lieu of celluloid Galoob fantasy barbarians, have a peek at this old commercial instead. Thirty-plus years later I can STILL hear that jingle in my head! Be sure to watch this link, as it also includes a European version, which is moodier and sassier and even better.
I took a bit of a summer break from the YouTubes, but this week I am back with a new video and some peeks into my somewhat sizable perfume collection. I also share a handful of favorites!
I hope you’ll stop by, give it a watch, and maybe leave a comment, because I sure do like chatting about stinks. Tell me your favorite notes, wax poetic about a beloved fragrance, heck, even share a scent you hate–I’m here for all of it.
I’m still relatively new to filming and editing and uploading videos, so please feel free to share your feedback and suggestions, as well. I know I have got a lot to learn, and I am grateful for your thoughts. And if you have anything you’d like to see in a future video–perfume related or not–please let me know!
Image: From Cat Walk by Mary Stolz and illustrated by Erik Blegvad.
All of my life from family, friends, teachers, classmates, heck, sometimes even from strangers I’ve only just met, I have heard some well-meaning variation of “why are you so quiet, Sarah?” or “why aren’t you talking, Sarah?” Good intentions, or no– I hate this question. It makes me feel anxious and pressured and put on the spot. It’s embarrassing and judgmental, and when I am feeling scrutinized like this, the last thing I want to do is chat. Instead, I want to curl up in a corner and disappear.
I thought maybe they’d all stop asking that question once I became an adult, but nope, I am 44 years old and I literally just heard it again last week (via video chat, no less!) I flushed and flustered, fumbled for words and mumbled something inaudible and inane, but I wish I had responded with something acerbic like, “you talk enough for the both of us.” Or perhaps turn the awkward spotlight back on them and countered with an analytical inquiry: “…and how does that make you feel?”
But…you guessed it. I remained silent.
Sometimes I am quiet just because other people are so loud. Those energies are overwhelming and I tend to retreat in the presence of them. And anyway, I am not good at idle chatter or casual conversation, I don’t even like it, I guess you could say I really resent it. It takes up space better served by silence. And what is wrong with silence, anyway? I am much better at listening and observing than talking, and I am deeply appreciative of the space that a silent moment affords for reflection and awareness–and so when I talk, it is when I have got something to say. And I’m not suggesting that all of everything I’ve got to say is wildly important, or that any of it is. But if I have said it, it must’ve meant it was important to me, important enough to interrupt the silence for.
I know this isn’t the way people are typically wired, but I sure wish that in lieu of commenting impatiently with something like “why are there no words coming out of your mouth right now, Sarah?” They’d instead recall something some silly face I pulled, that made everyone laugh during a tense moment. Or a favorite cake into which I baked so much tenderness that when they later wiped a crumb from their collar, they may have wept without realizing it, and felt inexplicably loved, and touched, and seen. Why do I have to say anything at all? A quiet moment can be full of so many wondrous things. If you’re talking you may miss them.
So just because you don’t hear me yammering away doesn’t mean I’m checked out and not paying attention, that I am mentally not-there, or that I don’t care. I spend a lot of time in my head. Listening, observing. Absorbing, reflecting. And just because I don’t talk about [this, that, or the other] thing does not mean I don’t think about the thing.
This is really just to say, jeez, sometimes I relate to these cats.
Freddy Kreuger as a monstrous villain got to be pretty campy and cartoony in the third or fourth film in the franchise, but I think while that might have rendered the ensuing movie installments somewhat hokey, it might have made him the perfect character to host a show featuring his name on the small screen.
While I don’t recall many (or any) of the episodes or particulars of the plot points of the series, I know that I found Freddy’s Nightmares much freakier experiences than the actual Nightmare On Elm Street movies. Perhaps because it aired late at night when the house was quiet and the adults were in bed, or, maybe I thought it so unsettling and strange because the show never seemed to be playing on the same station at the same time. Recalled through the cracked and smudged lenses of memory it’s even more surreal and eerie because it almost feels like one of those things that happened so long ago that it could have actually been something you dreamed up and never existed at all.
It did exist though because I just messaged my sister and she remembers watching it with me! Also, I mean, there’s a wiki page for it. I just found a link for what my sister thought was the scariest episode. I wonder how it will hold up with a revisit?
Of course, there are things in life that logically, make me very angry. Things that might be obvious, like systemic racism, or when a gross old white politician calls an awesome, empowered US representative a “fucking bitch,” or when an Instagram account amasses an enormous following built upon the uncredited work of other artists and creators. Maybe that last one is infuriating only to me, but I don’t feel it’s unreasonable!
Anyway, some of the stuff on the following list is really, really dumb. I know this! But I consider a cataloging of this sort to be a great exercise in ridding my head of junk and garbage, a clearing out of the nonsense in order to allow the important thoughts more room to grow and develop! It’s a bit cathartic, and, I think, a valuable practice.
So, here is a list of some things that make me irrationally angry. It feels good to get this stuff out of my system! You may not agree with everything below (I DID say some of was a little irrational) so please feel free to share a few of your own infuriating, absurd pet peeves in the comments.
😡Taking a bite of a big sandwich or bagel and the entirety of its gloppy contents splorts messily out the back end
😡 Getting my head stuck in the neck-hole when I am trying to take a shirt off; conversely, trying to put on my underwear and somehow jamming my foot into the crotch, instead of the leg hole, and subsequently losing my balance and falling.
😡 Washing dishes and hosing the front of my shirt; also when I am washing my face and the water runs up my arms as I am rinsing (this makes me so mad!) As it happens, so many people hate this aspect of face washing that there’s a whole reddit thread about it!
😡 Checking Instagram and getting excited to see that I have fifty notifications but when I look closer, I find it’s because one weirdo had liked 49 different posts and then started following me. Also, seeing that I have a DM but it’s just someone who wants me to be a “brand ambassador” for their ugly goth jewelry.
😡 Seeing a notification that I have a new blog comment and then realizing that it’s a pingback to someone’s conspiracy theory blog post where they used a piece of art that I shared, totally out of context, and, while yes, they did link back to me, they spelled the name of my blog wrong. Keep my name out of your dumb mouths, conspiracy theorist bloggers!
😡 Seeing someone (usually a fashionable Instagrammer) exclaim, “that’s SO aesthetic!” Something can have aesthetic qualities, you can find its particular aesthetic pleasing, you can appreciate something for its aesthetic appeal (as opposed to say, its function)…but “aesthetic” is not an adjective that is synonymous with “chic”, or “beautiful”. To refer to the first dictionary entry that appears in a google search, it is either an adjective concerned with beauty or the appreciation of beauty, for example, “the pictures give great aesthetic pleasure” OR, a noun to signify a set of principles underlying and guiding the work of a particular artist or artistic movement, ie “the Cubist aesthetic.” So…taking that into consideration, what does one even mean when they assert that this, that, or the other thing is “so aesthetic”? That makes no damn sense.
😡 Magazine inserts falling out of magazines and landing on a scorchingly hot driveway when I am retrieving mail from the mailbox on a summer afternoon. This is especially irritating when I have just clipped my nails very short.
😡 A ten-second rainfall on a scorchingly hot summer afternoon (the smell of freshly dampened, hot concrete is awful, ugh.)
😡 When I am getting exercise while walking around my neighborhood in the evening and I have to stop short because a car is driving across my path. It’s 7 o’clock in the evening, dammit! Why are there people still driving around?? Everyone should be home asleep, except for me!
😡 When people invite me out to spend time together with them, but upon my arrival, I find out they have invited other people as well. I wanted to spend time with you one-on-one! This is not a nice surprise! If you had warned me ahead of time, I could have prepared myself, or (more likely) opted out.* This TikTok by introvert Dustin Poynter sums my thoughts up nicely.
😡 When people invite me over for dinner (or something that involves food and the preparation of it) and when I get there, not only have they not even started cooking, they still need to go to the store to buy food! Though I am fond of you, I do not want to go to the grocery store with you. You should have done that before I arrived. This is rude and disrespectful of my time! Note: if you have warned me ahead of time, this is fine. *
* I think between this one and the previous one, it can be boiled down to “when someone doesn’t give me all of the information I need to make an informed decision regarding going out instead of staying home.” When I am surprised with something I am not expecting, it makes me want to hide in the bathroom and cry.
😡 When someone causes a scene in public. I don’t mean the punching Nazis sort of scene, and I don’t mean the sort where you stand up for someone being bullied, or when you call out someone for racist comments. Those aren’t “scenes.” Those are instances of being a good citizen and a decent human. I mean scenes like relationship dramas or fraught public meltdowns. I don’t want to see this. It embarrasses me so much I want to die–even if I have never seen you before in my life–and this embarrassment, in turn, enrages me. Lose your shit in the privacy of your own home.
😡Loathsome papery, sticky garlic skins, clinging to your fingertips, fragile yet antagonistically immobile, against all of your nearly superhuman efforts to peel the dreadful things off the bulbs? And then! A desiccated scrap of that peevish peel clinging to the heel of my sock, and which I have I have been trekking back and forth across the kitchen for hours, like so much cheap, tacky toilet paper in a public restroom!
😡 Noise of any sort–but particularly obnoxious radio personalities, and people trying to hold conversations with me–early in the morning, say before 9am. It’s not that I am grumpy, or that I am not a morning person. I love mornings. And I believe they should be for silence and solitude. It should be noted that people trying to hold conversations with me after 9 am also make me mad. Just…text me instead?
😡Tone deaf people in my Facebook/Instagram/whatever comments, saying dumb things and making me look dumb by association. Or not being able to read the room. Or saying mean things and making me look mean just because I am friends with you. Or just showing up to state the obvious (I think I hate this more than anything, it actually makes me howl with rage) Don’t make me look bad, people! Don’t embarrass me in front of my other cool friends who obviously know how to behave!
