Yesterday, I was telling our friend a story about how I refused to babysit for Hutterites when I was in high school because, on my first day, they told me I had to wear a dress, take off my makeup, and then they proceeded to teach me how to churn butter. I ended this story up by saying that I was "much more" goth then, and assuming that I would remove my makeup was obviously ridiculous. (You know, because forcing a teenager to churn butter in the late 1900s is not crossing a line or anything.)
But THEN, you guys, R turned to me and said, and I quote, "Please, you're not at all goth anymore - except for your penchant for Marilyn Manson." I was mid rebuttal when I realized he was right!
Now, this is shocking because (ladies, back me up here), my husband was RIGHT. Even more shocking, I'm not goth anymore. The horror! I have - wait for it - grown up!
Admittedly, my level of goth was always mild: black clothes, uber-pale complexion, black nail polish, knee-high, platform leather boots, too much makeup, etc. Nothing too shocking. And it was always mixed up with a little punk, a little geek, a little grunge - you know, eclectic, in black. But now I own polo shirts.
I could try to convince myself that I am still edgy. After all, I recently dyed my hair blue. My nail polish is green. I have 8 piercings and 2 tattoos. But even I acknowledge that this is a sad and desperate attempt at rationalization.
I tried to step back and ask myself why I care and I don't have a good answer. I'm happy with my life now. I am no longer riddled with angst, so it makes sense that how I represent myself would no longer reflect those dark emotions. I guess I just attached 'goth' to my self-concept and haven't bothered to reassess in a long time.
On the other hand, I still have striped tights and those boots are down in my closet...maybe it's time to pull out the black eyeliner and dance around in my bedroom. I don't know where else I could rock that look. But, as R pointed out, I do still love Marilyn Manson.