It’s lashing with rain on the first day of Whitby’s legendary Goth Weekend. Water cascades down the streets, landlords sweep puddles out of pub doorways and bedraggled people huddle at bus stops after severe weather wreaks havoc on the public transport. But it’s not enough to stop the goths.
Figures in long black frock coats and Dickensian skirts roam the sopping streets under umbrellas and women in black veils brave the horizontal downpours to pose for pictures in St Mary’s Church’s cliff-top graveyard. I’ve been coming to Whitby since I was a child and always wondered what it would be like to see thousands of goths – surely one of the most beach-adverse tribes – descend on the tiny seaside town with its kitsch arcades and funfair rides.
When the sun finally comes out for the festival’s second day, it feels incongruous to see people in black corsets, ‘Hellraiser’ masks and Siouxsie Sioux makeup wandering down the pier with fish and chips, and playing on the seaside arcade penny machines. But this mishmash of aesthetics is all in the spirit of the weekend.
Whitby has long been a destination for people interested in goth culture, thanks to the fact Bram Stoker set many scenes of his vampire novel ‘Dracula’ here, after being inspired by the spectral splendour of the 1,360-year-old ruins of Whitby Abbey. The Goth Weekend started in 1994 when a woman called Jo Hampshire from Barnsley put an advert in ‘NME’ magazine asking if any goths fancied meeting in Whitby on Halloween weekend. Two-hundred people turned up, and gradually, the meet-ups grew, attracting thousands of people, becoming bi-annual in 1997 and incorporating a huge alternative market and music festival.
‘It’s a place where anyone who’s ever felt left out or isolated can come and feel at home,’ says 26-year-old Bethany, whose ruby red mohawke is piled in a tight bun on top of her otherwise shaved head. ‘Everyone’s welcome.’
Whitby Goth Weekend is the type of place where you’ll find 80-year-old local women chatting pleasantly to a man dressed as a skeleton and self-declared Satanists talking football scores with staff from fast food stands: everyone is welcome and everyone wants to share their passion. So, without further ado, here are the most surprising things we learnt at the Whitby Goth Weekend.