It’s 4 p.m. and I’m running around Rittenhouse Square, looking for someone interesting to talk to. Arts beat Beatrice Han is by my side when we spot Sylvia and Effie, donned head–to–toe in goth couture.
It’s Sep. 27 and I’ve been in the park for four hours by now, having last interviewed Sophia only 20 minutes prior. Chatter is lively in the park, music is booming, couples are snuggled up on benches, and kids are running around.
I’m here to understand Rittenhouse Park, and therefore the population actively inhabiting it. So far, Teresa, Sammy, and Sophia have proved plenty interesting, but I’m hungry for more. I’m here until midnight, after all.
Here are the stories of Sylvia, Effie, and Alan. More stories are to come.
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SYLVIA AND EFFIE – 4:35 P.M.
I stumble upon Sylvia and Effie on my way to the Amish flower stands. Although I approach them at first with only the goal of a photoshoot, an interview comes out of it. They definitely serve face for the camera before we get to talking.
Sylvia, donned in a white lace cloak, comes to Rittenhouse mostly for the trees, but she also goes to The Church of the Holy Trinity on the northwest corner of the park. She isn’t a people watcher, though: The people here aren’t interesting enough. “I’m more of an eater,” she says. She and Effie, strapped in leather from head to toe, come to the park to eat lunch. They both live around Manayunk, so they’ll frequently take the 30 minute bus ride to come down here. “We’re just kind of spontaneous. In this case, yes, it’s a weekly thing,” Sylvia explains.
Not everyone is boring, though. “We meet people in our subculture, okay? Our community, basically under the gay community,” Effie says. “Literally told a group that’s like, hey, I’ll see you at the club,” Sylvia adds. And they do. Sylvia and Effie’s go–to club these days is Nikki Lopez on South Street. They both have strong DJ connections across the city, following the goth and metal scene from dancefloor to dancefloor. “I know a lot of people. Okay, I’m friends with just shit tons of musicians, a shit ton these days, lots of really nice, spooky people,” Effie says.
The people they meet in Rittenhouse tend to go to Vortex at the Warehouse on Watts, likely avoiding Nikki Lopez because of how sketchy the part of South Street it’s on is, Effie says. But that’s where their “favorite characters” are, she explains. “It’s still fun down there.”
Effie is from Virginia but spent much of her life out in West Hollywood, while Sylvia is from Philly. “The goth scene on the West Coast is garbage,” Effiie says. She thinks the scene in Philly is much bigger and a lot more welcoming.
After expressing my ignorance about Philly’s goth scene, Effie responds: “Oh my, you know nothing of the Philly Goth scene. We’re everywhere, and I mean everywhere—except West Philly. We’re welcoming. We’re accepting. We love everybody. We know how to have fun. We have some of the best music in town. We’re not dickheads. We don’t support Trump. We don’t support fascism, fascism or racism. We don’t support fascism, racism, transphobia, homophobia. We don’t support any of that.”
Not everyone gets it, though. “The scene isn’t just how you dress, but it’s also political and mainly music based,” Effie explains. “To be goth you have to like the music. You have to find beauty and darkness. Have a love for glam metal and punk—and get the joke, rather than be it. The joke is, ‘Goth is dead.’ We’re not trying to be dead. We just want to look dead. We get the joke.”
“It’s easy to find your people as long as you know what people you’re looking for, as long as you know they’re accepting and they love you no matter what,” Effie explains. One of the best ways to do this, she explains, is attending Dark Force Fest, a goth convention held yearly in New Jersey at the Sheraton Parsippany Hotel, which is built in the style of a castle.
For Sylvia, this all started in her first year of college. She was just hanging around local goth areas and fell into the scene immediately. She’s 43 now, and has been in the scene for over 25 years. Effie, on the other hand, found the scene in middle school. The goth scene is incredibly diverse, Sylvia explains. There are countless different expressions, subcultures under subcultures. Sylvia’s favorite is romantic vampires: Her long dark hair and flowing lace sleeves speak to this. Effie, in her chrome corset, is more of a cyber goth and a raver.
The two of them have only been friends since late June, but it feels like they’ve known each other forever, Sylvia says. The scene isn’t what connected them, she says, but “more of a mesh of personalities.”
“Spooky people know their people. You could be completely dressed down, but see them at the club the night before,” and you just know. Plus, Sylvia’s “humor is dark, dark like the night,” so they were bound to get along.
Before we part ways, Effie invites Beatrice and I to Nikki Lopez. “$10 a head, as long as you’re 21 and over, yeah, you’re gonna enjoy yourself. Good music. Good, good drinks. Yeah, amazing people. Four DJs, two dance floors, one downstairs, one upstairs. And four bathrooms, very important.”
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ALAN – 4:57 p.m.
And then there’s Alan.
Alan stands out from the crowd, at least to me, as he happens to be my friend. We met on Hinge a year ago and he hit me up asking to be friends. I’ve had my own person in the park since.
He works at Rouge, an American–style restaurant adjacent to the square. When he gets off work today, he comes to see me, wanting to take part in my 12–hour investigation. He also got me a burger (and paid for part of it). A gentleman, really.
Alan’s been working near the park for four years now. “It’s a pretty good spot,” he says. “You know, I meet a lot of new people every day. The people I work with are great, and I make pretty good money too.” Sometimes he comes to the park on his lunch break or after his shift to “I don’t know, read a book, maybe just people watch, just sit down, or come to unwind,” he says.
Rouge and the square share a unique environment, filled with both rich and poor looking for a conversation or a bite to eat. “Working in Rittenhouse Square, you meet a lot of unique people. And by that, I mean, you meet people like a lot of old couples who love to talk to people. You get to know a little bit about them. And then you meet a lot of rich people who live in the area and have a lot of money to spend. And so you get to see their day to day, see them picking up just random women’s tabs at the bar, just buying them drinks or whatever.” Celebrities visit as well, with Eagles and Phillies players coming in from time to time. Even former President Joe Biden’s family once came in. “It really opens up your eyes to how the real world is,” he says, “because being in school you’re around the same people the majority of the time. But if you work in this kind of spot, you never know what to expect or who you’ll meet.”
Alan’s on a similar wavelength to Sophia, saying that “you don’t really meet the same kind of person twice … [there are] a lot of different characters … Because Rittenhouse is not only just for restaurants. It’s not only just a park, and it’s not only just for rich people. People just walk around the neighborhood. Sometimes people just walk around with friends, families, people on their own, you know, all types of people,” he says. Despite the area’s vibrancy, he tends to stay away on his off–days, preferring to play tennis in FDR Park instead.
I ask why he’s stayed in the restaurant business so long. “I grew up in restaurants,” he says, “I grew up around food. That’s pretty much who I am as a person.” He’s always found food to be the best way to connect with people, taking on cooking as a kid to take some weight off his single mother’s shoulders. Growing up, his father was the head chef at a Manhattan restaurant, and would frequently invite him to come watch for the day. The environment immediately drew him in, so much so that he went to culinary school for a bit. He quickly found out cooking wasn’t the career he wanted, though, and has been working since.
Alan lived in New York City until he was 10, but he’d never move back. “People move to New York for the idea of New York, not because of the place itself,” he says. “Philly is getting to that point now,” constantly being in sports news headlines and quickly changing as people are starting to see Philly as a good place to live. Philly “is starting to become something new, which is very exciting to see,” he argues. Still, he’s concerned about what increasing gentrification means for long–term residents.
He just moved into his own apartment this past January (and threw a killer housewarming party), leaving his second home in South Philly for a spot in North Philly. These days, he cooks as a hobby, having moved to the front–of–house at Rouge a while back for better pay. “I’m still in the middle of trying to figure out what I want to do,” he says, “because I’m only 21 at the moment, and like a bunch of other 21 year olds, we have no idea what we want to do with our life.”
His current goal, though, is to become a firefighter. “Growing up, I would always see firefighters and policemen, and I would always think it’s so cool just being able to help somebody. But throughout the years, I’ve noticed that a lot of police are corrupt, yeah—and firefighters, firefighters are very much less corrupt. They do it for the act of helping people, and not just for the authority figure that they have. I think that’s something I would do, and I’m very excited to continue working towards that,” he says. But certification is $1000 and a lot of training away, so for now he’s focused on saving up for that and a car so he can travel.
When he’s not talking to me or reading a book in the park, he meets a lot of homeless people. “They get a very bad rep just because they’re homeless, but a lot of them are very kind,” he says. There’s a handful of homeless regulars at Rouge that he takes care of. One of them is a former millionaire who, after stumbling on some hard times, went down the wrong path. He comes and asks for a soda most days. A lot of “these homeless people have a very interesting story to them,” Alan says, “I don’t like that people just shoo them off just because they’re an inconvenience to them.”
As the interview dwindled, Alan asked me to include the follow statement: “go Birds, fuck ICE, free Palestine. And, yeah, that’s about it.”
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After talking to Alan, I sat on a bench with a couple of friends who came to visit and scarfed down the burger Alan brought me.
A couple walked by with their wedding photographer, with the bride holding a newspaper that read ‘Save The Date.’ Her fiancée looked annoyed.
A group of middle schoolers played with a ball around a statue. The little sister of one of the girls kept trying to join.
Three girls strutted down the walkway in front of me, one in a little pink dress and the others in red and black. The girl in the pink dress held balloons that read “16” and “birthday babe.”
Spencer, Vic, and Crow are next.