So it’s been a nice week, having Him Underfoot about. We have fun and we have punished our livers. On Monday he indulged me by coming with me to meet author Joe Abercrombie at Waterstones. I adore his books – fantasy with black humour, wickedness, bawdiness and cracking battle scenes. And the greatest torturer ever written, Glokta. He is a supremely nice chap, very affable and he kindly let HU take this pic of us:
His latest book is Half a King, a fantasy coming of age, which he told me is the most like Harry Potter he’s ever going to be – which having read his early work is quite an interesting prospect – imagine Potter with whips and chains! So looking forward to reading this.
We’ve pottered and puttered and had a couple of powercuts (the pavement blew up in a neighbouring village which was interesting) that blew our fridge freezer up and generally just spent very pleasant time together despite my hayfever.
So we decided to go out last night. Now this is not a goth blog. I identify as goth, but I’m not hugely scene. We are both curious about our local goth scene and have recently started attending more local gigs. Last night we thought we’d try a local goth night. I had a clothing crisis, as you do when you’re going somewhere new and are a little unsure of yourself and how you’ll fit in. And I realised last night that I am so perky goth. I can’t help it. I like girly clothes, I like to look pretty. I do like big boots, but with swishy skirts. I like my hair to be natural and equally swishy. I’m equally happy with dramatic dark lips (last nights option) or cherry red – but black or dark reds really corpse out my skin – in a bad way. And I like to smile at people and generally be happy.
So this night starts nice and early which suits us as we are decrepit. It also has an older age palette – again this suits us, both being the wrong side of 40. And the music was superb, a great blend of older classics (Sisters, Mission, Cure & Joy Division) and new music such as Ayria, VNV Nation, Abney Park etc. It was a quiet night, I was very happy and wanted to dance. And yet…
And yet, it was obvious that I (we?) was an anomaly. I was as welcome on the dance floor as a wet fart. At one stage (before a raffle for concert tickets), we were actually asked by a disgruntled gent ‘are you local?‘. Now we are huge fans of The League of Gentlemen, but never expected to be asked if we were local people in our own home town! HU didn’t want to dance, so I bounced up and perked away merrily, despite the glares. The 2 women on the table next to us began to glare at HU as I swished my little skirt and teetered on my boots about the dance floor (there were 3 of us up in total). The other 2 dancers deliberately blocked me out, so I just perked even more and had a great time. I quite obviously wasn’t there to score – I was there with my lovely boy, so wasn’t threatening anyone’s love interest or indeed invading their (mostly empty) space. I should say that there were some nice people (particularly one couple by the dance floor), and I didn’t expect a standing ovation and flowers when we attended, but I really do not like leaving the toilets to be greeted by a wall full of women whose faces were set to permafrost.
So I had a great time. And I didn’t feel threatened at all. I just wanted to dance – and I did (and this morning I have exceptionally sore toes). Would I go back? Probably not – it’s cheap enough, early enough and the music is brilliant – but I did not feel as if I was somebody that was welcome there, more like it was a private party which you could pay to join, but not be fully integrated. Which is a huge shame 😦