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Tripp NYC c/o Sassy Magazine, 1992 |
Or, rather, how to cope with a sudden
and extreme resurgence of your goth phase.
The goth phase: everyone knows it, most everyone goes through it, and some live to tell the tale (at least, that seems to be the popular understanding). Yet, in the scheme of the average American teenager, who likely entered and exited their goth phase at the tender age of twelve or thirteen, I went through a fairly late and fairly soft goth phase, never braving the crammed aisles of Hot Topic or having purple hair, heavily lined lids and braces at the same time (the former thankfully took place years prior). My staples were seemingly as inauthentic as could be, faux leather leggings purchased from American Apparel (RIP) and upside down cross necklaces and black leather creepers hesitantly purchased from Urban Outfitters one summer eve. It was a phase that was contained and a bit artificial in its nature, detached from the larger post-punk landscape that was likely brewing in my hometown's music scene at the time; lasting less than a year, it soon transitioned to an all-consuming obsession with minimalism by way of monochromatic basics and selective pieces of gold jewelry. That is, until the other day.
Of course, in the moment, I didn't realize how much of a gateway they would become, ushering in a reincarnation of my previous goth phase by way of a sudden fascination with grommet belts, netted fabrics and other so-called "goth" fixations. Though I never thought I would dip my toes back into these dark waters (and don't necessarily anticipate a particularly long dip), it is comforting to know that style phases don't always have to be confined to the clumsy years of adolescence. For, after all, what is style without experimentation?