Goth Boots and New Beginnings

Image from UniSexShoeStore
Image from UniSexShoeStore

“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibres connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibres, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.”
~ Herman Melville


Have you ever found yourself in the right place at just the right time, even though it didn’t mean much to you in the moment?

A few weeks ago my husband needed to go into Lismore ( a small country town about half an hour’s drive away) to get some farm tools and supplies. Problem was, on my new medications I was really unwell, and Ben was worried about leaving me at home alone for so long on my own. Solution? I went with him.

We only had a few chores left when we stopped at a favourite bakery so Ben could get some lunch. I ordered a pot of peppermint tea, and we sat outside at a little table. My husband then left me there with my tea, and the friendly staff supervising me, while he walked a few stores up to get a tractor part.

While I sipped my tea a mother and daughter came and sat at the table beside me, and then the mum went inside to place their order.

I smiled at the daughter and said hello, and she glared ferociously at me.

I will admit to this – I was very unwell that day, and she scared me a little at that moment. I wondered if I should have smiled after all.

The young woman was dressed as a Goth. She had multiple piercings, a severe blue-black bob, a white powdered face with heavy black eye makeup and artful black and grey lips. Her clothes were dark, with lots of layered jewellery and dark images. She was plump, awkward and uncomfortable in her skin. Even with her confronting glare and the hostility she radiated, I found her quite beautiful. It was a beauty of which she was totally unaware.

Amidst the tradies, farmers and office workers the young woman looked completely out of place, and everyone stared at her. Judged her. She spent most of her time with her head down, using her long hair as a shield between her and the world.

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It was the lips that did it. They were so carefully drawn. When she turned her head away I stole another glance. Her entire ensemble down to her scary platform boots with the big spikes, was thoughtfully chosen and stylish. So much care had gone into that outfit.

She snarled a smart retort at a spotty youth who made a rude comment to her, and suddenly I was reminded of my dog Bert, who sports a big spiked red collar and who acts and looks so tough when we are out in public to hide his complete terror of the world, but who is a complete pussycat underneath that tough exterior.

I realised that the young woman’s snarl and glare were her defense mechanisms. This Goth Girl was the most stylish person I had seen in Lismore all day. I could see the fragility under the fierce make-up, the piercings, the boots more suited to a Klingon warrior.

Disney Goths Image from Hellee Titch
Disney Goths Image from Hellee Titch

I couldn’t help but listen as she talked over lunch with her mum. She was well spoken, funny and thoughtful. But I could also feel how tentative she was. How nervous and unsure. My heart melted. The more I thought about it, the more I felt that she just needed some encouragement. My intuition was that she had been very brave in coming here for lunch, although I had no idea why. In my sick and miserable state I certainly wasn’t in work mode, and didn’t even think to try.

I felt compelled to say something to this girl. But I had no idea how to do that. And I was feeling so fragile myself. I wasn’t up for any kind of upset or confrontation.

As they were getting into their car I knew it was my last chance. I hobbled over and tapped on her window. The glass slid down and she jutted her jaw at me, scowling.

“Excuse me,” I said, feeling a bit stupid but determined to say something. “I just had to tell you that I think you’d win the award for the most stylishly dressed person in Lismore today. You really rock that look.” I meant it sincerely, and I smiled at her again, and walked back to my table, heart thumping in my chest. The girl reminded me of someone, but in my addled state I just couldn’t think who.

A few minutes later Ben returned. We drove to the other side of town, made a few more stops and then finally went to Bunnings, where Ben left me in the car while he went inside to get the last things on his list.

A tentative knock on my window startled me as I sat there, half-asleep. It was the mother from the bakery. I rolled down my window. The woman couldn’t believe that she’d run into me in the Bunnings carpark. She couldn’t stop thanking me. Her daughter’s name was Lisa, and apparently my comment to Lisa had been just what she’d needed to hear.

The mother’s face became fraught with worry. After enduring ongoing bullying at a college in the city, Lisa had suffered a complete breakdown. That very day the mother had picked up Lisa from a mental health unit, where she’d been a residential patient for some months.

Lisa’s counsellor had told the mother that it was probably time for her daughter to change her image to something less confronting. It was the one thing Lisa had not been prepared to do in her ongoing support sessions. In defiance of the advice, Lisa had carefully and bravely made herself up in her usual choice of fashion for her entry back into the world.

My comment had apparently made Lisa’s day, and helped her to feel more confident about herself and her style.

Image from Pinterest
Image from Pinterest

What had Lisa been studying? I asked.

Beauty and hairdressing, the mum said. We talked for a few minutes more and exchanged telephone numbers.

I didn’t give the incident much more thought until I was speaking with a client last week. She runs a successful city hairdressing salon, and she’d been having trouble finding a suitable apprentice. Bingo. She was the one I’d been trying to think of when I’d met Lisa. My client is heavily tattooed, favours a Goth look herself, and is one of the most intelligent and sweet-natured women I know. I told her about Lisa, the young woman I’d met outside the bakery. A few phone calls were made. Magic happened. One talented young woman has now been taken under the wing of an equally talented mentor. Wins all round.

There is a synchronicity and magic in this Universe, and it often finds a way to work through us, so that we become a part of that flow of goodness.

I very much trust in that. Don’t you?

Image from Kahuna Research Group
Image from Kahuna Research Group


Hi! I'm Nicole Cody. I am a writer, psychic, metaphysical teacher and organic farmer. I love to read, cook, walk on the beach, dance in the rain and grow things. Sometimes, to entertain my cows, I dance in my gumboots. Gumboot dancing is very under-rated.
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23 thoughts on “Goth Boots and New Beginnings

  1. What a wonderful story. Just goes to show of you go against your fear and hesitation the universe gives you such clarity and light. There was a plan all along. Thanks for sharing, I really love these stories you tell xx

  2. Speaking of synchronicity, I’ve been looking for more positive blogs on chronic illness, and not finding any that I gel with. How do I end up on your blog? By accidentally clicking a link I didn’t mean to click while looking for a recipe for herbal tea. I didn’t intend to click on your particular link because I am mildly allergic to turmeric, but still ended up reading your post and then moseying over to your home page, etc, etc, etc…

    And on the topic of the goth world: I think so few people notice just how much effort and serious artistry it takes to dress goth, and I love that you appreciated her for her strength AND style. I settled for punk when I was young because I didn’t have what it took to go goth! Punk got me fewer looks, and more or less just meant that my mom would raid my closet for safety pins when she was doing a quilt, and the money I saved by buying clothes secondhand was spent on hair dye. But for me, living in an area of the world that was a haven for punk-dom, it wasn’t much of a step out. Now that I live in a much, much more conservative part of the world, on the rare occasion that I do see a punk or a goth, I am in awe of their strength of character and sense of self.

  3. What a beautiful and uplifting story to start my day! Magic happens when we perceive the world around us through the lens of Love. Trusting those gentle nudges from spirit will somehow always put us in the right place at the right time. Blessings to everyone!

  4. ‘Diamond in the rough’ comes to mind, but I don’t mean this in anyway derogatory, I love everyone’s expression of their own personal art . It’s a gift never to be flattened . I had friends who were punks , I myself was a ‘Bay City Roller ‘ fan …oh my god I show my age lol. That poor girl I want to hug and YOU Nicole I love even more for the wonderful thing you did .

  5. I could give you a big kiss right now Nicole! 🙂
    Over 20 years ago I was that girl and how wonderful it would’ve been to hear a kind word from a stranger rather than the hostility and disgust so often shown to me.
    Despite how absolutely wretched you must be feeling you never fail to bring light into other people’s lives Nicole.

  6. and another sooky moment. I love it when you go out for ‘tea’ as magic definitely does happen. I am sure your Guides (and Guides of folk who need magic) jump up and down with glee because you are in ‘ready’ position xox

  7. Very beautiful, love when things line up like that.
    The young girl reminds me a lot of one of my best friends in high school. She went with the goth look, and she was very scary to those who didn’t know her. I, thankfully, did and she was a wonderful, caring person who was just having a hard time fitting in. She was also a big lass, which worked to her advantage, because no one dared say anything to her face for fear of being physically beaten down.
    I remember a lot of conversations with her about how she wished she was someone like me by outward appearance – tall, slim, light hair, you know all that – who boys seemed to like, but really, I had no idea what I was doing with boys and I kept on telling her that someone would come along to love her just as she was. She didn’t believe me.
    Then, in our second last year of high school, while we were down the street, she ran into a friend of hers from another school who was with a boy and I guess the rest is history! They are still together and she now has a beautiful young boy of her own who is about 4 years old. She absolutely loves her family and I have never seen her happier.
    Plus, she still rocks the goth look and is absolutely stunning.

  8. I found this story so moving – bought tears to my eyes. You really do create magic ( to me) Nicole & your stories give me hope. Huge hugs xx

  9. Nicole another lovely story – for many years now my son has chosen an alternative style – at one time Goth and now punk sporting a massive mohawk regularly. The judgement he receives is unbelievable and the looks I get when I am with him are almost as unbelievable. You can read the person’s thoughts on their faces ‘But you are normal’. Over the years I have met a lot of my son’s friends and they have all been very sensitive and caring young adults who choose to look the way they do for many reasons but I think you summed it up well when you said it was a defense. I am glad there is a happy ending for this young lady.

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