gothypants: (Default)
Tuesday, April 11th, 2017 10:34 pm
Alright - here I am on Dreamwidth. It's about time, dunno why it took me so long to ditch Livejournal (which has been a sinking failship of failethics for some time).

Happy to hear about the generally ethical awesomeness of Dreamwidth staff and crew. How rare is it these days to find something on the internet that's not all about selling users' data to the highest bidder? Hell, I'll happily pay for the privilege of being decently respected as a customer.

I haven't been up to too much lately -- though I am working on a new dress, and a new handbag for Morrigan New York. After years of delay! I guess I just have a very long design cycle. ; )

Anyway, nice to see all of you here. : )
gothypants: (gothypants)
Tuesday, August 9th, 2016 03:47 pm

Aaahhhh! Look what I just found, being sold vintage?! A 90s metal coffin purse... these were super good quality, made by a small metalworker in NYC in the East Village. I had one when I was 17, which I bought at Skin Crawl Boutique near Avenue A. Years later, like in 2004 or something, I sold it on eBay like an IDIOT, and I quickly regretted it. You know those "if you could go back in time and give sagely advice to your 17-year-old-self" memes? I wouldn't give myself any sagely advice about career or sexism or relationships.. yeah. Just don't sell the coffin. ; )

You could say I am moderately stoked to have found one again. ;)

My original had a blue velvet interior, but hey, red is always in style.

gothypants: (gothypants)
Friday, July 29th, 2016 07:12 pm
M. went to the New York Botanical Garden, to see their corpse flower, a huge and terrifying plant thusly named because it smells strongly of rotting flesh. This particular flower hasn't bloomed in 36 years! So exciting. Here are his photos!

Look how large it is -- you can see the human figures for scale. Apparently the entire greenhouse just smelled like a rotting body. Or you know... like NYC in the summer. Haha.

Read more about the corpse flower:
gothypants: (tophat)
Wednesday, June 29th, 2016 03:11 pm
I wonder if the reason that Americans feel nowadays that we need to sustain a naturally dying old person's life for as long as possible, even pointlessly and painlessly, and even at times when the patient themselves is no longer aware -- is related to the Victorian Anglican / early American idea that a death full of suffering is virtuous. When I worked at the Merchant's House Museum, I learned that family members would keep a detailed journal of a dying person's suffering, because it was thought to mean that the person was more likely to get into heaven.

Probably that same belief in the virtue of sufferring at death contributed to the cultural mandate that Victorian women wear mourning clothing and sharply curttail their social activities for an absurdly, at times cruelly long time after the deaths of relatives -- like some sort of redemptive, transferrable family suffering. Another way women were perhaps obligated to care for the family's morality or external reputation for morality.

It's interesting to me how when a culture becomes less religious (or differently religious) over time, a lot of cultural behaviors and beliefs stick around even though their roots are no longer obvious.
gothypants: (gothypants)
Thursday, June 16th, 2016 09:14 pm
I hate the fucking summer. Fuck that "yay, summer: let's all be sweaty nudists!" bullshit. I almost certainly resemble Fred Whatshisface's character from the "goths at the beach with Danzig" sketch on Portlandia. There is no such thing as comfortable summer clothing for awkward-ass gender-malcontent misanthropes who despise sexual harassment and hate exposing their bodies in any way, ever.

The closest thing I have come to "summer comfort" is wearing a metric fuck-ton of double-dyed, deepest black linen. Linen everything; layers and layers of linen. A Victorian level of linen. The nice thing is that wind goes right through it, so you are reasonably cool, but completely covered and tailored. Basically, I am just replicating a deep winter wardrobe, but in a new material.

To top it off -- when I have to go out to an actual beach or park in the daytime or some sunburney bullshit like that, the best thing to wear is a huge black-brimmed Puritan preacher hat with (and this is important) a veil -- so sunblock is not required. A general bummer about hats is that most of them are highly gendered, and I wanted something ambiguous. However, a 17th century Puritan hat is creepy-anachronistic enough that it's rounds the corner to "eh, could go either way." (I believe the hat in question was actually worn at the time by both genders, come to think of it).

Here is a capotain hat.

(I choose to think of this person as a very stylish 17th century butch woman <3)

The problem is the pants. Even in stretch linen on very hot days, the skinny jeans that I religiously wear are going to be sweaty as fuck. Let's also face it -- sadly, black skiny jeans look stupid in any other fabric than black stretch denim... so I still haven't figured that one out.

Actually clothing design is a good example of how having an internal struggle leads to some sort of creativity. If I hadn't ever struggled with my gender, and (or because of) sexism, and had a complicated relationship with my physical body, I doubt I would have ever cared about clothing, initially. It's an attempt to mitigate a problem, and wade through historic backlogs of meaning and symbol in search of something that feels comfortable.
gothypants: (gothypants)
Sunday, December 7th, 2014 12:55 am
M and I are in London. We just saw the Fields of the Nephilim 30th anniversary show. Not exactly a concert, it was more accurately like a frenzied summoning ritual. Totally worth flying to another continent for.

This gig had the most intense crowd I've ever been a part of, - from the first song it was crazy, but not aggro-metalhead-crazy, more like hypnosis-freakout-crazy, like "I've been taken over by the Spirits"-crazy. I didn't take many photos - here's one that is somewhat representative of the atmosphere (but imagine all these people as a roiling, bubbling mass, during Last Exit for the Lost):

They've been my favorite band since I was 16. So happy to finally have seen them, and in a proper atmosphere.

Saw Carl afterward too. I didn't say hello because I'm shy and don't like to bother people, but I enjoyed seeing him wandering around impersonating a normal person. : )

Anyway I feel like I can die now. If I get hit by a bus or something, don't feel too badly for me. (Though I'll try to stay alive).