Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.10.2013, Síða 24

24The Reykjavík Grapevine Issue 16 — 2013 Culture
Mya shuttles between the kitchen and
the living room, delivering fresh pan-
cakes as they come off the griddle. As
everyone claims to have stuffed them-
selves before my arrival, I’m the only
one eating, precariously balancing my
plate on one knee as I scribble notes.
I’ve been invited to this intimate pan-
cake party to learn about Lolita fash-
ion culture, its vibrant online forums,
and the fledgling Elegant Gothic Lolita
community here in Iceland, which now
boasts 22 members (10 of whom are
active).
The current discussion is centred
on the petty criticisms sometimes lev-
elled at fellow Lolitas within “seedier”
online forums. I’m told these sub-par
message boards are where “the scum
of the earth” lurk to dispense judge-
ment on members whose eyebrows,
for instance, might be too thick.
“Of course, that’s the secret re-
quirement for Lolitas,” Mya says, sigh-
ing with a wave of her spatula. “They
have to be total bitches.”
I laugh, but it is a bit hard to take
this statement seriously, standing as
she is, in a chocolate-striped, knee-
length pinafore dress layered over a
cream turtleneck and a frilly bell skirt,
a pearl necklace and white silk roses
in her hair for adornment. She’s cov-
ered the ensemble with a red flow-
ered apron and tucked her feet into
two oversized slippers, which look
like teddy bears wearing strawberry
hats. I’m more inclined to believe the
assessment of Aino-Katri, who Mya
sometimes affectionately calls “Auntie
Aino.” Like most subcultures, she says,
Lolita “has its elitists,” but in countries
like Iceland and Finland, “we are kind
to a fault.”
The lonely Icelandic Lolita
It’s Aino’s home we’re all gathered in,
and from her seat under shelves of
miniature clocks and floral teacups,
she tells me how the Iceland Lolitas
got together.
In general, Lolitas connect via on-
line forums, mostly hosted through
Live Journal (as if, Mya jokes, “it’s still
the ‘90s”). These are strictly monitored
websites—one I visited featured a page
on which dozens of site moderators
posted their daily hours of availability
to chat, offer feedback, and intervene
in member disputes—and they pro-
vide an important avenue of support,
friendship and second-hand clothing
sales for Lolitas worldwide, who may
not know others who share their inter-
ests.
These forums prominently feature
“Daily Lolita” pages where mem-
bers post pictures of their recent en-
sembles or “coords” (Lolitas prefer
“coordinates” over “outfit,” since the
latter can imply that they are wearing
costumes) and get feedback (nearly
always positive) from other members.
As chronically camera-shy Mya points
out, it isn’t necessary for these photos
to include the wearer’s face—some
members photograph their coords on
mannequins, and some Photoshop
over their faces with hearts. “Lolitas
are fairly private, especially because of
how people might react to them,” she
tells me. “So posting pictures tends to
be more about what you're wearing
and your skill at coordinating the fash-
ion.”
Apparently, it is quite common for
Lolitas to receive aggressive or nega-
tive reactions to their clothing. So most
forums also give members space to
discuss such problems. One post I
found detailed a young woman’s ex-
perience wearing her first Lolita out-
fit in public—one that she had spent
months saving up to buy—only to have
a can of black paint thrown over her
by a passing car. “That’s why I have to
give up Lolita all together,” she wrote.
“I’m just so discouraged.” This post
received over 200 unique comments,
nearly all of which encouraged her not
to give up, and many of which pushed
her to file a police report (which she
later did). “Wear that experience with
pride,” wrote one commenter. “Turn
your black-stained dress into a work
I’m sitting in a cosily cluttered sitting room in Brei!holt, a suburb of Reykjavík about
twenty-five minutes from downtown. The coffee table in front of me is spread with cream,
jam and pancakes three ways: paper-thin Icelandic crepes, baked Finnish pannukakku
and the classic American buttermilk variety, each a nod to the nationalities of the three
women bedecked in flounced skirts and perched like iced cupcakes around me.
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Getting to know Iceland’s Elegant Gothic Lolitas
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