Southern Goth in a Northern Town-January 2022: It’s My Birthday, And I Am SO Officially An Elder Goth Now!

January is my birthday month. It’s early in, so I’ve already celebrated and am now having thoughts.

As of this birthday, I am solidly and unabashedly in my early-mid-50s, and am now considered an Elder Goth. 

This is not a bad thing. While I don’t really feel much different (in my mind), my body – and with it my style – has changed. I’ve always leaned more toward the Victorian Goth look – I love my corsets, full skirts, and boots, and I do feel that style still suits, albeit the corsets are looser or eschewed altogether, depending on my mood. The elaborate draperies of shawls, veils, and cloaks can conceal a myriad of evils. Plus, when one pairs a cloak with a hat/veil/muff combination, how can you not feel at the top of your aesthetic?

There has also been a change in my work wardrobe. I’ve always worn long black skirts, usually paired with high-heeled oxfords and long jackets or long cardigan-style sweaters. That style has changed, but not because of aging. It’s changed due to Covid and the fact that my office has been relocated to home. Now my work attire consists of black yoga pants, no shoes at all, and usually a black t-shirt with something appropriately “me” on it (because I can get away with odd and vaguely inappropriate t-shirts since no one ever sees me except from the shoulders up during Zoom meetings; for instance, today’s shirt features Bela Lugosi as Dracula, with blood dripping down his chin). To be honest, I’m not really looking forward to going back to the office (if that ever happens) not because of the dress code – I like my work wardrobe and have no problems there – but because of the commute. I really like walking down the hall to my office instead of driving into the office. As an Elder Goth, I’ve decided I really like convenience…and I don’t like commutes.

Another thing I’ve embraced – again mostly due to the pandemic – is no longer dyeing my hair. I’ve decided I am going to let it go natural and am eagerly awaiting a long, swirling fall of Werewolf Silver down my back…because I’ve also not been able to cut it due to the pandemic, so why not go all-in with the Witch of the Wood look, right? Plus, silvery-white hair will look exceptional against my black wardrobe. Still…I’m not there yet. I’ve got silver streaks, but not a full-on white mane. Yet. It will come and I will rock it. 

And that seems to be the motto of those of us moving into the Elder Goth role now. We have embraced it, and changed the face of aging with it. There are so many more older people showing off their tattoos and their piercings and their silver hair, or going the other way and coloring their hair crayola colors – because those vibrant shades show up well on lighter hair (and gray/silver/white is definitely lighter). Change the wardrobe to be a bit more comfortable with lower heels, looser corsets, but we believe you don’t have to give up your style or your aesthetic just because you’re older now. We’ve always been able to piece together our looks from bits and pieces of more mundane clothing…why stop now when it’s served us so well?

So, I think I am going to enjoy my status as an Elder Goth. I’m already quite good at haughty and aloof, but I probably need to work on majestic and commanding. Maybe it comes when your hair is the proper shade of Werewolf Silver?

Southern Goth in a Northern Town-August 2019: Working While Goth (Part Two)-What’s in a Name?

There’s been a lot of change this year. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been THE big change for Der Mann and myself – the buying of a house. That is a thing that is still on the horizon and I really need to get myself together and get that project moving.

However, there have been other things going on that may not seem as big in comparison, but yet. Small changes are just as important as the big ones.

The largest change I’ve felt (so far) has been in my work life. Bossman left in April, and I spent months essentially by myself, holding everything together with my fingertips.

Then they hired BossLADY. And things began to change.

The first thing she did was elect to call me by my preferred name.*

And a weight fell off of my soul. I don’t know how else to describe it.

Big Bossman was horrified when he found out I preferred a different name than the one he’d been using. He didn’t understand Bossman’s opposition, and afterward, made a concerted effort to use the name I prefer. And he still occasionally forgets, but he works at it. Others in my office have picked up on the situation and have begun to work on changing their habit as well.

It makes a huge difference. I honestly didn’t realize how much I felt like someone else, an outsider, an imposter even, at my workplace.

I feel more like me, and my confidence has increased. I’m no longer doubting my abilities – perhaps the months holding things together helped with that, but still!

It is everything to me to actually feel like ME.

And that is what’s in a name.

*Full disclosure – this is not a case of my supervisor choosing to use a deadname or anything horrific like that. That is discrimination and harrassment, not at all the situation I was in, and makes my name preference (and it is just a preference) a small issue, honestly. I prefer to use a nickname over my given name, and Former Bossman did not approve of nicknames in the workplace.