Goth Jimmy Buffett was born inside a dressing room in Forever 21. As per usual, I was there searching for a specific thing (was it a skirt? A sundress? The world may never know) and instead of finding what I needed I tried on three different Hawaiian shirts. All of them were black. Jimmy Buffett isn’t apart of my usual summer rotation (I prefer to listen to him in the winter time when I can scream along with “Boat Drinks” and really feel the Buffett vibe deep in my soul), but looking at myself in the mirror the modern day pirate immediately came to mind. That was it. Like Athena springing from Zeus’ head fully formed, Goth Jimmy Buffett became a real live thing.
For many months it was nothing more than a joke on my Instagram account. Sure, my friends got in on the fun and started to buy Hawaiian shirts at an alarming rate, but I never imagined anything would come of it. In my mind, the best case scenario was that someone in Buffett’s PR office would send me a free bottle of Margaritaville brand margarita mix (still waiting on that, by the way!) and I would retire my summer look at the end of August.
That didn’t happen (I mean, it still could, but stay with me). Instead, after being encouraged by BYT Editor Brandon Wetherbee we teamed up with the amazing folks at DC9 to throw a Goth Jimmy Buffett party we affectionately named Goths in Paradise. There were black margaritas, giant skulls, inflatable skeleton hands and we played “Margaritaville” every hour on the hour. The weather was perfect and everyone came out in their tropi-goth best. It was better than I could have ever imagined.
Huge thanks to Lauren and Bill (and everyone else at DC9) for getting weird with us and for all of my family and friends who have put up with my nonsense for 26 years. I couldn’t have done it without any of you.