Light a candle. Draw the required sigils. Now, raise your arms above your head and slowly, gently, exhale your soul. You won’t need it here. This is Audioccult, and it’s time to get low. Illustration: SHALTMIRA
Woke up from more dreams of all-devouring chaosbeasts (I really need to take that mural down) to find myself lying in a pool of darkness. A moment of panic before I realized I’d fallen on my floor into my dirty laundry. The abundance of gothiness in the room was suddenly overwhelming, and I picked everything up and shoved it into a bag in the back of my closet. There’s really only a certain amount of black clothing you can amass before you either need a change or you just give in and start buying incense. I like Prurient and all, but come on. It’s time for one of October’s most celebrated of events: the Goth Garage Sale. These have a pretty high difficulty rating, unfortunately. Goths and garage sales don’t really mix. First you have to actually coax goths out of their homes, because if you want to make money with a bunch of drapey black things, you won’t do it by parking on the curb with an expectant attitude. It’s hard to convince most people to stop and look at anything when Peter Murphy is crying in the background, and Rick Owens tag or no, nobody walking by randomly on the street really wants to pay 200€ for apparently pajamas. Not that I have that issue; sorting through the morass of black clothes in various states of decay is a bit sad, to be honest. I’m fairly rough on clothing, and even some of my more high-end stuff (a leather hat I found in Japan, a normal jean jacket with no Sharpie cusses) has a tendency to get a bit trashed when I do. Give me Prada and I’ll give you a pizza stain.
It’s not hard to decide what to get rid of. Being a writer and promoter means that I’m often given clothing promos by labels and brands both large-scale and DIY. This has mixed results. I’m not particularly fond of prints, and it’s rare I’ll wear a band shirt unless the design is particularly cool (Pictureplane), the music has special meaning to me (Chelsea Wolfe) or it commemorates my undying love for Aaliyah. I can certainly do without the M-size Fruit of The Loom tee with “WHAT IS A JUGGALO” (front) and an extensively written explanation of what a juggalo is (back) in Garamond Pro. The creepers and beanies definitely need to go. After seeing every other thirteen year-old girl in Tokyo dressed basically like me, that sort of thing has lost its luster. The hardest part, however, comes after the purge. When you’ve been draping one shade across yourself for such a long time, anything else feels a bit strange. Transitional colors like burgundy are helpful in easing back into the polychromatic world, especially around this time of year. As well, a change in social armor can lead to a change in social attitude for the better. All too often I’ll wear one layer of black clothing too many and start mistaking the female symbol on the lady’s room for an upside-down cross and go in, assuming they’re expecting me. Wear Doc Martens for more than a week straight and you’ll start finding yourself recording samples of broken glass. Some of mine are over two hours long. The paths that led me here lead back out again, and that way has a reduced price tag due to tomato sauce. Find the table with the guy looking uncomfortable in a navy blue sweatshirt. No tears for the creatures of the night…? ~
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