I went to the local Goth shop today - Pandora's Parlor - and lusted over the creepy and finely-made bric a brac she sells.
There were a number of bright-eyed stuffed animals I really liked and I might go back tomorrow and pick one up. Do I want a raccoon or a coyote? The deer's nice but everyone and his brother has a deer. There are also Chupacabras claws, photos of 19th century people looking unnatural and slightly weird and lots of bottles of potions and gris-gris. There are lacy black dresses, mink and fox stoles, a chandelier broken up into bags of little gems and labels carefully distressed to look as aged as something in Diagon Alley. Today she had a dog's skull faithfully watching a (plastic) skeleton as it resided in a cosmetologist's chair that resembled a torture instrument.
Some Steam Punk stuff, too: coppery instrumentation, old microscopes, and she used to have a lot of brass stereoscopes, but I guess they sold.
I saw one couple arrive and one of them just couldn't even walk in over the threshold. She stood outside, muttering, "Creepy!" Another couple behind me had the following conversation:
She: How are we on raccoons?
He: We're good on raccoons right now.
She: Just checking.
Pandora's Parlor's website is here.
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