Every April and every Halloween weekend, Whitby in Yorkshire is chock-full of goths. As I seem to be The Spectator’s adopted goth, I was asked if I might like to write about Whitby Goth Weekend (WGW). Goth is a fashion that emphasises darkness and death: Edgar Allan Poe and Alice Cooper are the best examples. But the only thing to fear from WGW is the horrific train journey. It took six hours to go from King’s Cross to Whitby. Whoever called the TransPennine Express an express needs to explain themselves.
When I finally got to Whitby, I was met by thousands of people in costumes. Even the dogs were taking part. Some were wearing wings covered in silver cobwebs, others had orange witches’ hats. One was dressed as a bat. As for the people, they wore top hats with feathers and goggles, clown suits or costumes of Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas. The most impressive outfit was worn by a university lecturer I met. He had a brown leather cowboy suit with cogwheels, pistons and pipes attached, and a mask covering his mouth. It gave him a sinister air. He also had an ammunition belt and what looked like a trumpet-gun attached to it. ‘This is a blunderbuss made from a trumpet,’ he said. ‘It took seven months to create. It’s all made of scrap.’ His look was classic steampunk, which is Victorian-inspired science fiction. ‘Steam was once the ruler and British engineering was a world leader,’ he told me.
Whitby means ‘white settlement’ which is ironic, given the town now hosts a festival of darkness. It is a Victorian fishing town and I only saw one modern building. There were boats everywhere, as well as lots of lobster pots and references to Captain Cook, who learned to sail in Whitby.
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