I have something to confess. I am a smoker. I am a smoker who loves smoking. I’ve been smoking since I was about 17 (although not “properly” smoking and inhaling until a couple of years later…). That means that I’ve smoked for the whole of my adult life – more than 20 years.
I. Just. Love. Smoking. If I were a poet, I would write an ode to tobacco. If I were a painter, I would paint someone smoking a cigarette, trying to capture that romantic love of tobacco which occasionally makes itself overtly obvious, and which lurks behind the big knot of personal neuroses the rest of the time. It is part of my very being. My identity relies upon it. My day is imbued with it.
My life wouldn’t be the same without it. I love all of the different forms of smoking: cigarettes, cigars and even the pipe. I love all of the different rituals around smoking: when to smoke, how to smoke, what brand of cigarettes someone smokes. I am fascinated by all of the paraphernalia which accompanies smoking: elegant lighters, sophisticated cigarette cases lovingly crafted from precious metals, rolling tobacco, pipe tampers and cleaning instruments. These are all part of the activity of smoking.
I have tried giving up smoking a few times in the past and always ended up miserable without my cigarettes. I felt lost without them. My brain became foggy. I was unable to concentrate. I seemed to become more stupid without them. I felt like a part of my soul had been removed and I was grieving for my loss. It’s as if cigarettes somehow complete me.
And I’m not ashamed of my love for cigarettes either. I feel no sense of guilt in indulging my senses with a packet of cigarettes. Smoking is one of the new social taboos, frowned upon by righteous health evangelists. I resent other people trying to dictate to me what choices I can or cannot make, and I resent the frowns and snide remarks from disapproving micro-dictators who want to control every aspect of my life. I have made the choice (yes, it’s an informed one and I’m aware of the risks) to smoke. The key point here is that it’s a choice. I don’t enforce my smoking (either active or passive) on others, so what’s the issue?
I know that smoking carries a wide range of health risks, but as my dear old Ma says: “You pick your window, don’t you?”. The Government seems to be trying to reduce the number of adults and young children who smoke, but the fact is that the UK economy would crumble if it weren’t for us smokers. An item in The Spectator last year cited the tax revenue from tobacco to be around £9.3bn, while the cost of treating tobacco-related illnesses was around £2.7bn. That’s a net income of £6.6bn into the government’s coffers. Do the politicians really want to go for an outright ban on smoking? I sincerely doubt it.
This points to the suggestion that smoking can be a consciously political act. It is at the same time rebellious (against the anti-smoking campaigners) and conformative (as far as the proceeds of tobacco duty are knowingly paid to HMRC or whichever body is legislated to collect tax on behalf of different Governments). I’m not quite sure whether I’m a rebellious smoker or a conformative smoker. For the moment I’ll just call myself a romantic smoker.
I know that 3am probably isn’t the most auspicious time to be writing a blog, but I’ve been meaning to scribble something down this week and have only managed an article on why buying furniture at auction can be a good idea. I’m half awake and have had the need to write something, so I thought I would put some ideas down.
So I wanted to ask whether I can still call myself a Goth? I’ve already come to the conclusion that I can’t, but it has been too big a part of my identity in my early adult years to entirely shrug off the label. That’s why I refer to myself as a “retired” goth. I don’t want to go into the whys and wherefores of how I came to call myself a goth in the first place – that’s a very subjective academic definition for me (I’ll try to put up some of my old essays at some point to prove a point). Suffice to say that I ran / managed a successful Goth club in Leeds in the late 1990s and went to all the goth nights as a student and the Whitby Goth Weekends every November for about 5 years.
In that capacity, I was also interviewed by Paul Hodkinson for his PhD thesis (later edited and published as Goth: Identity Style and Subculture), but my experience as a club manager and views seemed to be at odds to his pre-designated ideas. At some point I’ll scribble a critique of his thesis, but now isn’t the time for that. Anyway, he recently returned to some of his interviewees from his thesis (probably about ten years on) in order to gain a bit more understanding on the subculture. I suppose I’ve been thinking about my own identity as a retired goth and what it means to me (I’ll come to why I use that term to describe myself in a little while).
So I suppose the next two questions which I want to ask are: “In what ways can I still describe myself as a Goth” and it’s reverse: “In what ways can I no longer describe myself as a Goth?”. Those will lead to further questions which I will answer along the way.
To begin to answer the first question, “In what ways can I still describe myself as a Goth?”, I turn immediately to my enduring taste in Goth music. My formative years (from about the age of 14-15) where when I began listening to Goth and alternative music. Band such as The Sisters of Mercy, The Cure and Fields of the Nephilim were among the first that i began to explore. I was by no means an identikit Goth – there were certain “accepted” bands which were apparently de rigeur, but I was discerning. I never did “Goth-by-numbers” which is an accusation which could be levelled at some of my less critically aware peers. But as usual, I’m getting away from the subject at hand. I still listen to, and love, all of the old music. And I would say that it still forms part of my identity as an adult. You only need to look at the endurance of Radio 4’s “Desert Island Discs” to gauge how important music is to people’s identities. That’s probably a blog post in itself…
The second most important aspect of my identity as a retired Goth is related to my continued love of the music, and that is a rejection of mainstream / mass / popular culture. This is quite a difficult concept to adequately quantify without going into a separate academic essay in itself. I am aware that my patterns of consumption of mainstream culture are markedly different to those of my Goth peer group. I no longer have a television, a conscious choice rather than one of financial or any other criteria. I am a prolific user of Facebook & YouTube and a recent convert to twitter. I am also a loyal listener to radio 4, from the Today Program through to Front Row and occasionally beyond (yes, that includes The Archers and You & Yours!)… This is just a broad picture of my consumption patterns of contemporary media, and is not intended to give an exhaustive description. While certain aspects fit the usual patterns for some of my peers, others are markedly different.
The last major point in which I can still call myself a Goth is in the maintenance of friendships and relationships with my Goth peers. Although my social circles have expanded since my young adult years (as one would expect), I still maintain good friendships with long-standing friends in the subculture. This is perhaps a less definable aspect of my identity as a Goth, but relationships and friendships within the subculture formed an important part of my inclusion in the social group and should not be discounted. I suspect that this idae is one which could do with a bit more thought, reflection and investigation…
So, those are the ways in which I would say I am still a Goth. The ways in which I am no longer a Goth are a bit more obvious and tend to relate more to activities than to ideas of personal identity. The most obvious is that, although I still listen to the same music, I no longer attend Goth nightclubs or gigs. This is a major part of the subculture, as clubs and gigs are the main social gatherings for Goths. This also should give a clue as to the nature of the subculture, but I’m not going to go into that today.
The other major way in which I can no longer call myself a Goth is the fact that I no longer adopt the dress conventions of the subculture. While I am happy to acknowledge the ways in which Goth styles of dress rupture the conventions of mainstream / mass / popular cultural styles, I don’t feel comfortable making those sort of cultural statements through my style. I still like to take care in my appearance and put thought into what I wear, but I try to distinguish myself in other, more subtle ways. An emphasis on quality and an elegant style is one of the ways in which I try to set myself apart from the conventions of my more closely age-related peers these days. After all, who wants to see a middle-aged man desperately trying to cling on to the fading light of his youth? It’s just not a pretty sight!
The reasons for my particular choice in consigning active participation in the subculture to history range from a boredom of the music (which I perceive as derivative and cliché-ridden), to finding the subculture somewhat limiting to my maturing identity. Having said that, I still feel that my time as a Goth moulded my identity and is something which played a formative role in creating the person I am today. To say that I am a “former Goth” would be to deny this role. Equally, to label myself an “Old Goth” places too much emphasis on a continuing active participation in all the subculture’s streams. So I use the term “retired Goth”. I feel that this adequately describes my current position and relationship with the subculture, and it is one which I am proud to use.
Writing a blog for a newbie isn’t an easy thing to do. That great expanse of white screen which has to be filled with words. What do I write about? Why am I even writing at all? Will anyone else be interested in what I choose to write? These are just a few of the questions facing me as I cut yet another facet into my online existence.
The first reason I wanted to start a blog was to expand upon my twitter feeds (you can follow me at Mr_andy_fereday). I’m a relatively new member of that micro blogging site and while it’s useful for one or two lines of text, anything more than that doesn’t work. I have blogged for a while at Landscape Juice Network, but that started getting too industry-orientated and I’ve not been there for a few years now. I’m full of cold and limited to my bed at the moment, so a blog seemed like a good idea to keep me from interminable boredom.
I suppose on twitter I’ve been trying to focus on some of the interesting aspects of beginning a life in antique collecting and dealing. It’s a relatively new development for me, and I’m definitely still finding my feet in the market. So that’s going to form some of the content of my blog posts in the future. As for the rest of the content? Probably whimsical musings on aspects of modern life, rants about minor trifling hiccups and anything else which springs to mind. I will try to maintain a relatively high standard of writing, but this of course depends on the quantity of wine which has been consumed.
Please feel free to comment on anything you see here, and advice on blogging is always welcome.