Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Once Upon a Time...

...I had my own boutique. It stocked J-Rock/goth/metal/punk fashion, jewelry, and music. 99% of the store was black. All of the people working there were covered with tattoos, with mohawks and dredlocks. They wore denim, leather, and spikes. Death metal, J-Rock, and punk music played throughout the store, AND.. it doubled as a coffee house. Half of the store had small round tables, and there was a stage. On that stage, we did poetry readings. Art exhibitions. Music.
And then I woke up.

GADDAMN IT, HOT TOPIC. Where you once were my go-to place for gothic stage-clothes, now I have to ship my clothes from Hong Kong. And they're still LESS EXPENSIVE than from your store, which now caters to 13 year olds. FUCK YOU GUYS. UGH. I've always wanted my own goth hangout spot. I've never had one, before. Closest I ever got to one was going to a fetish club every few months, or going to a metal show. But even then, it was never good enough. The venues changed to cater to bigger crowds, the people changed, the scene changed.

Where my weirdos at?? Have we become so repressed that we are damned to spend the rest of eternity paying enormous prices for mediocre clothes and shitty music? No. Not me. Someday, I'll have my goth fairy tale. Someday.

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