Vampire Fabulous

I don't know why vampires are always so fashion forward. And accessorized.

Wouldn't they stop trying after a while? Just throw on some sweatpants while they troll for victims? It seems unnecessarily exhausting considering the eternity of it all. The dry cleaning bills alone must be a nightmare.

They can simply watch the delicious human population from a distance as it ebbs and flows. What do they care, the whole gig is forever, right? Why keep track of rising and falling pant lengths and fads, collecting and caring for wardrobe accoutrements as they travel from one gothic setting to another, spooky castle to spooky castle, steaming garments and keeping track of feather boas? So what if they’re gray and colorless, blending into the background like a slab of concrete? Unremarkable. Bland. Forgettable. 

One would think a vampire’s self image would be unshakable. That after a few decades as the undead, a vampire wouldn't need anyone to remind them how special they are, how many gifts they possess, how eager they are to share them with everyone in the room. That even the loneliest of nights roaming the empty streets in a zip-up hoodie and old sneakers couldn’t dent their confidence. Isn’t blending part of the point? Being perceived as an accountant or just another purveyor of bodega snacks? The armor around their confidence would protect any slight against outward perception, and anyway, they can’t see the t-shirts get dingy and stretched without a reflection. So, the colors can fade, the pizazz is allowed to leave the building. 

Until another vampire shows up with a velvet cape and says “Girl, slip this on.”  

Yeah, it turns out the glitter, the feathered hats, the metal tipped boots that match the cane wrapped around the leather-gloved hands are not for you.

This is the uniform of the elite club, the powerful few. They hit the button on that alarm at sundown every day on the edge of that coffin ready to know that, to remember that, to stand in that. In who they ARE. And when they gather with the other vampires at the cool vampire clubs, they REMEMBER.  The sparkle, the flair, the drama -  this is part of not forgetting who they are, and constantly reaffirming, restating, and relishing how amazing it is to be THEM. 

Because we all need something, some way, somehow, to remind ourselves that we are here. More than our job, more than what we can do for someone else, more than what we can list on a census form. We need to be seen and known and acknowledged, as just a little different than the person standing next to us, somehow. Maybe it’s something we believe or carry, maybe it’s how we make the people around us feel, maybe it’s a symbol we hold in our mind, or what we create. But every one of us needs to feel that we are here and creative and making a mark and carving an indent into the universe just by existing. 

So, the vampires carry the trunks and the suitcases and their Liberace-sized wardrobes, location after location, year after year, because eternity is a long time, and vampires have feelings too. And they remember their specialness so loudly and so powerfully that everyone can see it.  And it will blind you with its disco ball brightness and dazzling glamor. And you will know it too. Right up until it sucks the life out of you.

So, maybe get a cape of your own.