Halloween at the Kit Kat Club 1984/2024

Kit Cat Club Halloween Special: Sat. 26 Oct 2024

 omearalondon.com

 

 

I was amused to see that even ageing goth clubbers like to mark anniversaries and can be a bit wistful for times gone by; it makes these creatures of the night trying so hard to appear undead and vampiric reassuringly all too human after all. 

 

Anyway, for one night only, the famous Kit Kat Club [1] was reincarnated on Saturday for a Halloween special in the hope that it might be possible to summon the alternative spirit of the mid-1980s with a musical mix of post-punk, dark disco, and synthpop. 

 

The strictly enforced dress code consisting of  glam-goth, cyber, industrial, fetish, drag, burlesque, steampunk, etc. is apparently in place to protect the club's status as edgy and avant-garde and encourage individual imagination and diversity [2].

 

One can't help thinking, however, that its real aim is to create a safe space for those who, for whatever reason, feel threatened by street wear and casual clothing; as if a single pair of trainers might somehow challenge their beautifully crafted aesthetic and dispell the whole illusion of the night. 

 

According to an online flyer for the event (see above): 'There will also be legacy guests, fashionistas, Glampires, a Monsterlune Catwalk Show, two live bands and a dedicated area where we can immerse ourselves in nostalgia, with visuals, photos and music evoking memories of those classic '80s nights that defined a generation.'

 

Unsure if such a gathering would delight the original founder and godfather of goth Simon Hobart [3], or have him spinning in his grave, I decided to give it a miss. 

 

Besides, I've never been much of a clubber and was never really a goth. Although, having said that, there were gothic elements to my look in this period; as can be seen in the photo below taken on 31 October 1984, when, concidently, I paid my one and only visit to the Kit Kat ... [4]

 

 

S. A. von Hell looking a bit post-punk gothic

(Halloween 1984) 

 

Notes

 

[1] Operating out of a "converted warehouse known as the Pleasure Dive in Westbourne Grove", the Kit Kat would quickly become "London's premier goth hangout, providing a more glamorous and tongue-in-cheek alternative to its more po-faced rival, the Batcave in Soho".

      Lines quoted from David Hudson's obituary for Simon Hobart in The Guardian (2 November, 2005): click here.

 

[2] I'm actually paraphrasing from a statement concerning the dress policy of the Torture Garden, not the Kit Kat, though I'm sure both venues would justify their dress codes on the same grounds. See my post on Europe's largest fetish club published on 12 December, 2012: click here.

 

[3] Simon Hobart - who would go on to become a crucial figure on the gay club scene in London - launched the Kit Kat Club in February 1984. Following a huge police raid (intended to discover drugs) in January 1985, 20-year-old Hobart found himself on the front page of The Sun where he was described as the 'Godfather of Goth'. Sadly, Hobart died in 2005 (aged 41). See the obituary by David Hudson cited in note [1].

 

[4] Unfortunately, I don't remember much about my visit and, if my diary entry from 31 October 1984, can be trusted my experience of the Kit Kat was entirely uneventful; much as I'd like to report that I copped off with Princess Julia that night, I left at the relatively early time of 1.30 am and caught the nightbus home.

      Note that the photo was taken earlier that day in Soho Square (and not at the club).   

 

 

Reflections Beneath an Old Tree at Halloween

Halloween Tree (SA/2021)

 

 

It's amusing how, at Halloween, everyday objects can take on a slightly spooky aspect (and I'm not just talking about the cat). 

 

Indeed, some things, like the tree at the end of my road, actually possess a sinister quality; the naked, twisted branches reaching upwards remind one of Lawrence's description of bare almond trees sticking grimly out of the earth like iron implements and feeling the air for strange currents [1].

Faceless and silent, trees terrify in their primeval beauty and the manner in which they combine natural, supernatural, and even unnatural elements - just ask the Roman soldiers as they entered the German forests:

 

"Brave as they were, the veterans were filled with mysterious fear when they found themselves in the dark, cold gloom of [...] the northern, savage land." [2]     

 

The ancient Germans practised Baumanbetung and would nail the skulls of their enemies to sacred trees. For tree-worship always entails human sacrifice and even the Tree of Life is dark and terrible and its roots, thrust deep into the soil where dead men rot in darkness, feed on blood.      

 

Again, this naturally enough horrified the Romans, despite the fact that they were no shrinking violets themselves when it came to acts of atrocious violence:

 

"And the soldiers shrank: shrank before the trees that had no faces [...] A vast array of non-human life, darkly self-sufficient, and bristling with indomitable energy. [...]

      No wonder the soldiers were terrified. No wonder they thrilled with horror when, deep in the woods, they found the skulls and trophies of their dead comrades upon the trees. The trees had devoured them: silently, in mouthfuls, and left the white bones." [3]  

 

Happy Halloween!  

 

 

Notes

 

[1] D. H. Lawrence, 'Bare Almond Trees', The Poems, ed. Christopher Pollnitz, (Cambridge University Press, 2013), p. 253  The poem can be read on allpoetry.com by clicking here.

      See also the related verse, 'Almond Blossom', in which Lawrence develops his gothic-industrial dendrophilia, asserting that "Even iron can put forth, / Even iron." Poems, pp. 259-262. It can be found on the Poetry Foundation website: click here. 

 

[2] D. H. Lawrence, Movements in European History, ed. Philip Crumpton, (Cambridge University Press, 1989), p. 44.  

[3] D. H. Lawrence, Fantasia of the Unconscious, ed. Bruce Steele, (Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 87. 

Halloween

Cover of the Dead Kennedys single Halloween 

(Alternative Tentacles, 1982)

Another Halloween approaches ... 

And the groaning you can hear is nothing ghostly or ghoulish, but the sound of weariness from people like me who dislike the manner in which the supermarkets and other forces of corporate-media spectacle have co-opted the Day of the Dead and transformed it into a vapid and vacuous celebration of fake blood, phony horror, and false festivity. 

For what is Halloween today other than an opportunity for happy shoppers and law-abiding citizens to dress-up and behave like pretend monsters? Their costumes, no matter how elaborate, fail to cover up their conventionality and conformity; their masks and make-up don't disguise the fact that they have the same white faces smiling sheepishly underneath that they pride themselves on for the rest of the year. 

As Jello Biafra once sang: "I can see your eyes / I can see your brain / baby nothing's changed!"

And on the morrow, when the plastic pumpkins are put away and their all too human mold goes back on, then the real horror begins again; the recurrent nightmare of their daily lives full of fear of otherness, self-loathing, social-regulation, and the judgement of God. 

One almost wishes for a real zombie apocalypse ...