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I
fell in love with Goth when I was 15 years old. The music got to me first,
followed by the unique and creative aesthetic, including the lovely dark
clothes and imagery. And the poetry came shortly after that. There is nothing
like the lyricism of reading Byron or Shelley on a dark night.
However,
the clubs I could not experience until I was able to sneak in at 17.
Sanctuary was my first Goth club. I remember
those mystical nights I spent in a giddy haze dancing away the night. But the
club also conjures up a nasty memory— one that ruined the Goth scene for
me for years.
I was underage for most of the time that I spent at
Sanctuary. As such, I wasn’t the best-behaved clubber. I enjoyed the
music, the alcohol and the boys. However, the Vampire Queen took away that
enjoyment. (The Vampire Queen is the Goth woman who thinks she is superior to
all those she crosses paths with—including other Goths). It was this
woman, along with her gaggle of snobby followers, who would give my friends and
I a hard time at Sanctuary.
It started out small— rude stares,
some snickers. After a while it escalated into snide comments. Then one night,
as I was waiting to use the bathroom, the Vampire Queen really sunk her teeth
in:
“You know, just because you wear some old velvet skirt, it
doesn’t make you Goth. You don’t belong here.”
I
didn’t return to Sanctuary for years. In fact, I took a hiatus from the
scene because of it. Yes, I was too young to be in the club. And yes I probably
acted silly. But the point is that no one should have spoken to me like that.
My friends and I loved the music and the atmosphere. Yet a few black apples
ruined the scene for me for years, because I didn’t live up to their
definition of Goth, whatever that may be.
I returned to Sanctuary five
years ago at the urging of a friend. The darkness and wonder, not to mention
the heady atmosphere (and oh those plush couches!) enveloped me—just like
that wonderful old comforter you had as a kid that was cozy, familiar and made
you feel warm all over. I fell in love with the scene once again, and I
haven’t looked back.
Since that time, I am happy to say that I
haven’t had a negative experience. I thought it was safe to assume that
the bitchy days of the Vampire Queen had come to pass.
I realize now
that either I am completely ignorant, or sadly optimistic. I’ve received
emails from readers recently asking me why the scene is so “snobby”
and “inclusive”. There is one reader in particular who told me that
she and her friends like the music and the Goth clubs, but they don’t
dress uber-Goth. As a result, she says that she and her friends are given the
cold shoulder by people in the bar. She goes so far as to say that she’s
made to feel as though she shouldn’t even be setting foot on Queen West.
It made me wonder, are we really like that? Are we so involved in
ourselves and in our scene that others are just annoying afterthoughts?
Admittedly, we are an aloof sub-culture. And aloof can come off as being snobby
to someone new to the scene. (I think this is a defence mechanism us Goths have
come up with to fend off some of those ignorant norms that so rudely call us
“freaks”. But I digress….)
However, there is a character
that is beyond aloof, and whom I believe is responsible for my reader’s
distress. It’s the dreaded Vampire Queen-- the one who ruined the scene
for me years ago. She still walks among us today, ruining the scene for other
young Goths.
You often hear people in our community lament the fact
that Toronto’s Goth scene is shrinking. My hypothesis is that the new
people are too intimidated by the holier-than-thou Goths and don’t want to
hang out in the scene. It’s the same type of person that gives Goths a bad
name.
This reader ended her email by asking me how she could blend in
more at the club and not feel so ostracized by the people there. And my heart
fell. This is not what the Goth scene is about. People should not feel like
they need to try and fit in if they really enjoy the scene. We WANT young
people to discover and enjoy the beauty in our scene. It’s the whole
purpose of the annual ReJUVEnator festival and the
Catacombs night at
Vatikan. But until the Goth snobs disappear, or at
least smarten up, more young people will feel left out. The only reason I came
back to the scene is because my friend dragged me to
Sanctuary one blessed Halloween. If it hadn’t
been for that night, god knows what kind of club I’d be going to on a
Friday night. I don’t even want to contemplate the horror.
But
what if this reader gets so disillusioned and pissed off that she never returns
to Savage or Vatikan again? What if she doesn’t have someone to convince
her that, yes, gothic Toronto is a lovely place to be? She will be one of many
who will never return to the clubs or be part of the community. Our scene
shrinks and becomes stagnant.
As much as I dislike New Year’s
resolutions, may I propose this to the Vampire Queen and the snobs who follow
her: Let’s try and be more accepting of the new people who explore our
scene. The more we ostracize, the smaller we’ll get, until we vanish into
the darkness from whence we came.
posted December 2004
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Darq Angel has been living in
Toronto for 15 years. An avid reader, writer, club-goer, and music lover, she
has been a lurker in Toronto's gothic scene, floating around quietly, casting
her dark shadow over various clubs and events in the city. 