Confession: Sometimes I go into those fast food restaurants where they call your name when your order's ready and pretend my name is Eloise in hopes that someone behind the counter will call out my name in a smooth, creamy baritone. Is this ok?
I used to do the same thing with “Marian” at coffee shops; never worked-thank goodness.
Try using the name “Mickey” instead, and maybe you’ll get someone cheering that you’re so fine one day.
Scene: Dave Vanian’s flat in Islington. It’s a veritable shrine to Count Dracula and all of vampire persuasion. The pitch-dark is split only by a candelabra and a dim red bulb. The walls are hung with collages of Dracula, ’20s plastic face-masks, a spiked ball and chain mace, and bouquets of fake roses. Life-size painted china mannekins peer from the corners in black lace veils; severed china hands and skulls grace the mantlepiece. There’s a church harmonium and a black telephone off the hook. From behind a curtain drift the dulcet strains of horror movie soundtracks. Vanian (23) sits in a huge velvet armchair - white face, spiked collar, slicked back hair - sipping a bloody mary from a crystal goblet and winding up a clockwork mouse to entertain his black cat, Demon.
NME article from ‘79, ‘Blood Debt and Beers’ on The Damned (via clashcityrocker)
Dave Vanian’s distress at being trapped in this dank, narrow corridor comes through clearly in this stark documentary photograph. These gentle creatures often suffer needlessly due to home- and business-owners’ carelessness. Save a goth’s life today: thoroughly block ingress to all alleys, passages, and tunnels on your property with sturdy high-grade chickenwire or chain-link fencing!