Emo Wellies

Thanks to Marc McAndrews

Gothiness: 7 Sweatiness: 9 (around the toes)
No, madam, no. You're on a beautiful Caribbean beach, sitting on the trunk of a palm tree pretending to be Robinson Crusoe. You do not need wellies. What do you think this is? A fucking festival? Dissapointing behaviour, Gothette.

Davros Goth

Thanks to: Geraint Edwards

Gothiness: 8 Sweatiness: 9 bottom half, 5 top half
Auditioning for the new Goth Dr Who turned out to be only a partial success for this Goth. Told he was to be the new leader of the Goth Daleks, did he get the requisite studded metal bottom on wheels? Did he buffalo. No, he got a whole load of Immobility Sand for an arse and he's stranded in the bloody sunshine with half his body exposed to the Daystar so that he explodes like that chap in Blade.
I think we can all see how he feels about it.

Desert Island Goth

Thanks to: Shy Spades

Gothiness: 9 Sweatiness: 9

Happy talkie talkie, Happy Talk! Or perhaps not. Either way, someone's not making a campfire and certainly not looking for Man Friday, not when every day is like Sunday now. No more releasing the bats, no more sitting around watching Suspiria by candlelight. Just endless sunshine and sand. Ugh.

Dedication's what you need

lakebeachville9000, originally uploaded by pretty.kittens.

Gothiness: 4 Sweatiness: 9
So you're on a beach on lovely sunny day, surrounded by pretty ladies. Do you strip off to show your scrawny yet intellectual physique? Do you buggery! You sit there covered in as much black as possible to guarantee the Daystar doesn't infect you with it's joyful rays, discussing your latest epic poem documenting your Saturday job at Hot Topic. This is quite above and beyond the call of Chthulu duty. Top marks!

Nobody puts Gothy in a corner!

Thanks to Samantha Blake

Gothiness: 4 Sweatiness: 6
BobyGoth here is clearly not enjoying her time at the Country Club with her folks. What she doesn't know is that Undead Patrick Swayze is just waiting to whisk her off to a secret underground world of Industrialist Grinding and Gothabilly Bumping. Wait till she learns the secret of the 'Stuck in my coffin' move!

p.s. if you don't know how to dance goth, you could a lot worse than follow the step by step education at Lilith Gallery, and especially for anyslyenchanter and Cristina Jiminez (amongst others), I proffer you this piece of Gothy Sexyback from Tank9:

Pumping Goth

Thanks to Noelle McCleaf

Gothiness: 5 Sweatiness: 8
Check out those 68 Guns! These bad boys are just limbering up for a heavy poetry session, presumably involving lengthy discourses on the inner workings of their souls and how ladiee Goths should have the pleasure of their company. What a pair of rhyming couplets!

FTGW

Thanks to Kelley at Butt Blog

Gothiness: 7 Sweatiness: 5
Now that's the way to do it Gothettes!
(no, I'm not a perv. honest)

Between a Rock and a Goth Place

Thanks to Amanda Martin

Gothiness: 5 Sweatiness: 8
Amanda writes "Here is a picture of my brother. Make fun of him."
Too easy a target, from the 18 hole DMs right up to the mohawk-crop circa 1992, not to mention the fact you're on a BEACH. I open the floor to you, dear reader. Do your worst!

I deny thee, deckchair!

Gothiness: 4 Sweatiness: 6

Though clearly not yet fully initiated into the coven of Goth, this young lady is going the right away about spending time on the beach. There's a nice welcoming deckchair - does she sit on it? Does she buggery! She even has the good sense to stand on the only rock on the beach rather than risk getting sand in her Vans. Well done, madam.

Purple Paddlers

Gothiness: 6 Sweatiness: -4

It was a hot day, but a freezing sea. These two Dark Delights jumped in and before they knew it they were overwhelmed by the Goth's biggest fear: enjoyment. Yes, you can clearly see these these two Gothettes are having fun. How dare they? I made up for it by finding a previously unpublished poem, penned by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Apparently he binned this one and went with the Rime of the Ancient Mariner instead.

"Oh! Sea of chilly suffering, I jump in thee,

To drown my sorrows, at the shores of Whitby.

To look so glum was my goal,

but instead, childish enjoyment filled my soul.

I am Goth, 'neath the searing sky

I feed my pain with fish and chips from the Magpie."

Birthday Goth

Gothiness: 9 Sweatiness: 7

Birthday Goth and her boyfriend here were kind enough to actually pose when I accosted them in Whitby Beach, spiritual home of the Goth. A big expanse of beach, bright sunshine, donkey rides, everyone else in t-shirts, and these two don't just Goth out, they even have the attention to detail to make sure their plastic bags are black and purple! It takes a lot of work to find a shop that hands out purple plastic bags - fine work Gothette. She even represents when paddling. Mind you, the North Sea is bloody freezing.

Lost Boys 2

Thanks to Kevin Johnson

Gothiness: 6 Sweatiness: 7
Imagine being 4 years old, happily building a sandcastle and paddling in the sea whilst your parents try to get a tan and keep an eye on you at the same time. You don't have a care in the world, and you've never even heard about vampires, let alone seen a Bela Lugosi film. There you are, standing up to admire your 5-bucket sandcastle achievement; you glance up, and see these guys coming at you. You'd fucking shit yourself.

Lost Boys 1

Thanks to Andromeda Han

Gothiness: 8 Sweatiness: 4
Caught out after dawn, these Darklings know what they're doing - hiding under the boardwalk gives you two advantages: Firstly, you can avoid the searing Daystar until the Night comes with her cool embrace, when you shall once more walk amongst the living, choosing your victims and dealing your undead kiss. Secondly, you can look up girls' skirts. Brilliant!

Shingle Beach, thy name is Sorrow

Thanks to Elvira

Gothiness: 7 Sweatiness: 6
Goth down! Goth down! In just minutes, David Hasslegoth and the Gothwatch rescuers will run onto the scene carrying revitalising bottles of Snakebite and some Gothasols. Let's hope they can survive the Daystar until then. They do, however, know the correct way to sunbathe a la Goth - as covered up as you can be, with a bag full of poetry and pseudo-intellectual books, presumably L’Étranger or À la Recherche du Temps Perdu. Minus points, however, for the white trainers. Poor show Gothette!
Side note: As a Didi-Goth I once took to a beach with some 'intellectual' reading in order to pull the clever totty (my favourite kind). I made two mistakes; firstly,the beach I was on was in Malia, Crete where the words 'clever' and 'totty' don't often mix; second, the book I chose was 120 Days of Sodom by the Marquis de Sade. Consequently I spent a week lying on a beach shouting "Oh God NO! He's doing what with a WHAT? And why are THEY standing over him?" To this day I am the only man ever to go to Malia and not pull.

Gothkini

Thanks to Anonymous

Gothiness: 8 Sweatiness: 9 (crotch area only)
Ladieeeeeez! Check out this Goth's cradle of filth! He's all man, and he's waiting to satisfy your every need - poetry, navel gazing, and Terry Pratchett discussion groups with dark sexual chocolate drops on top! Witness the muscular physique! Gasp at the bulging source of his power! Swoon at the bullet belt adorned cowboy boots! This, surely, is every Gothette's onanistic, narcissistic gothboy fantasy!
edit: What do you mean, no?

Gothinson Crusoe

Thanks to Jon Yates

Gothiness: 5 Sweatiness: 7
Here we see a classic example of right idea, wrong execution. This young castaway attempts to write 'HELP' in the sand so that a passing plane might spot it and come to the rescue, but the Goth nature comes to the fore and instead all that comes out is some introspective naval gazing haiku element. You'll be waiting sometime for a refreshing Snakebite & Black young Darkling!

Beach Blanket Babygoth

Thanks to Alethea Carr

Gothiness: 6 Sweatiness: 7
Alethea writes "This dedicated darkling was spotted under her gothasol on a 95 degree day. What is she writing? A short story worthy of Poe? A poem about the heartwrenching pain of summer vacations? A shopping reminder to buy more cloves? Note her one concession to the heat: a pair of gothy-industrial flip flops. And her one fatal flaw: an exposed line of scalp. That’s going to hurt next time she backcombs."

Bucket And Spade of Cthulhu

Thanks to: Kjartan Poskitt http://www.kjartan.co.uk/whitbygoths.htm

Gothiness: 8 Sweatiness: 6

Very few leather coats, but boots and lace will catch the sand nicely.

(note matching hair and child's spade - who said Goths couldn't co-ordinate?)

Gotheo and Juliet

Thanks to Jamie Bowen

Gothiness: 6 Sweatiness: 6
But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the Daystar. Declarations of love are a beautiful thing - Gotheo here has braved the beach to write a transient amorous message in the sand, making sure to keep his head protected from the Daystar's powerful rays. But what's that? Bare arms? Bare bloody arms? Damn fool. By the time he's finished, his forearms will be so pink his body will look like a slice of Battenburg cake. And who wants to sleep with that? Fail.

Watch out for Crabs

Thanks to Sakara

Gothiness: 6 Sweatiness: 3
The lovely Sakara writes "These are of me and my mates when we did our annual pilgrimage to a beach in Bridgend South Wales, where we would scare the locals with our paleness and enjoy a nice day... Seeing as I just dont tan I do not fear the sun... " I notice, though, that Sakara and her friends have not just scared the locals, they have comepletely cleared the beach. Although that may have more to do with it being Bridgend than anything else.