Alices (when male: Alistairs or, of any gender: “Fools”) are unlike other adventurers in that they are actively sought by adventure. Alices forever find themselves falling into cursed rabbit holes, accidentally killing witches, having their half-brothers stolen by goblin kings, being willed magic rings, finding demons inserted in their chests or having armored knights ride through their homes at bedtime. Obscure gods, however, sympathize with them…and an Alice is a boon to any adventuring party. Some Alices wear striped stockings, some Alistairs wear pointed shoes.
The cold of London is forgotten in the glow of a lighter,
It is all you do to kill the grey,
Numb at the tips and you flick it right up,
And a dead man they say,
as you get High another day,
Just a drag to a smile, its chocolate.
Just a dab you use it,
Get high to get calm,
Paranoia but you do it,
Sweet lies its all like chocolate
You and your friends call it chocolate,
The lyrics of the song called it fate,
Roll up and strum the strings, chocolate to forget,
Dead inside and sad soaked futile hate,
You bite her lips, taste like wine and chocolate,
You call it chocolate, just a lie; you dead?
Your lungs they take it in like a friend,
Your heart breaks again, remember why you like it?
She broke your heart so you broke your head,
Bent with drags of chocolate, loved her but she didn’t know,
Bite your lips, light it up and inhale your fate
Inspired by the 1975 chocolate and my own addiction and self destruction
“Suppose I broke away and left you, or made it impossible for you to stay. That I was base and false; in every way unworthy of your love, and it was clearly right for you to go, what would you do then?”
“Go away and–”
He interrupted with a triumphant laugh, “Die as heroines always do, tender slaves as they are.”
“No, live and forget you”, was the unexpected reply.
Speaking of makeup, just like there are many shades of alt-girl clothes, there are many ways for gothic heroines to adorn their faces. I’ll try to avoid specifying exact shades here (since everyone’s coloration is different) and stick to general images.
‘I am an innocent but clever maiden who looks like she stepped out of a sedate country portrait’- soft neutrals, 'dewey’ skin, subtle blush.
'I am beautiful and tragic and Poe wrote a whole book of stories about me’- strong eyes and mouth that pop against your skin tone.
'Just because I’m a vampire doesn’t mean I can’t be a gothic heroine’- classic 'goth’ makeup, with heavy eyeliner, super-dark lipstick, and no blush.
'Mina Harker didn’t shop at Sephora and neither do I’- no makeup, just a fantastic outfit and maybe chapstick.
I think that when you are thinking of the role of women in Gothic fiction I suggest that that is the phrase you keep in mind – to what extent are these women agents in their own right? Are they able to produce their own story as well as being victims within a story?
Quite literally, the Elizabeth’s Bookshop in Australia got a simple, but brilliant idea, selling secondhand books wrapped up in brown paper like gifts, and writing in clues which will certainly tickle one’s curiosity!
A Blind Date with a Book is how they call it. It’s a promo which started in 2014, basically for those who wanted to save time choosing a book, by not judging on how they look like.
For those of you looking to make your own gothic heroine nightgown or poet blouse, THIS is the pattern you want to track down. My best ruffled gothic heroine nightgown that was made by the Infamous BlueJay was based off of this pattern.
Eventually I’ll get around to trying to make one on my own. In my copious free time, ahahahahaha.
Also, if you can get ahold of it, take a look at the book The Female Gothic, by Juliann E. Fleenor. Amazon says it’s rare, sadly, but my old library had a copy and it was what got me interested in this topic to begin with.
“It was long before the terror of recent events subsided; and to this hour the image of Carmilla returns to memory with ambiguous alternations—sometimes the playful, languid, beautiful girl; sometimes the writhing fiend I saw in the ruined church; and often from a reverie I have started, fancying I heard the light step of Carmilla at the drawing room door.”
I didn’t exactly come up with a costume, instead just dressed like a literary reference no one would just guess. Still, it’s an excuse to wear this nightgown/dressing gown pairing I found on Etsy with a black wig and my Osteal Chesire moon necklace.