When I was a little girl I really wanted to be a witch. Not the kind with a crooked warty nose and a big chip on her shoulder but more of a magical earthy and pagan sort of witch. It wasn't fairy tales which lead me to this image, for they generally portray the witch as crone unless she is a cranky step-mother. As a little girl I could not relate to such women but at some point around the age of eight I read a novel about a young girl who had magic powers due to a magic stone she possessed. Long before generations of children came to read Harry Potter, and little girls had marvelous heroines like Hermione Granger, I was reading about and longing to be some sort of loner pagan magic girl. My best friend and I played that we were witches, but I do not recall playing at being princesses. In those days I was more interested in mixing up magic potions with a stick in a rusty tin can than I was about cooking or painting but when I swirl a paintbrush in some paint or a jar of water, when I stir a pot on the stove, I am mixing up a magic potion. When I brew up a sink full of dye and alter the colour of my clothing, that too is a magic potion. When I pick up stones on the beach, I feel as though a magical connection called me to pick up that stone.
Words, to me, are also magical and powerful things. Spells, incantations, curses, protective charms, all invoke words to lend them power and permanence. Words, once uttered, cannot be taken back. Once read, they can be erased from the page but not easily from the mind. When I write poetry or snippets of ideas in my journals I feel there is power in the words, that I am writing personal spells that guide my life. I have used words to explore who I am and who I am becoming, words have been guides on a new journey and familiar talismans like a wave worn stone I am fingering in my pocket. A list of words helped me to make better clothing purchases, helped me make a more cohesive wardrobe of clothing that feels like me when I put it on, which is not quite the same as having a wardrobe full of clothing I like. I like many things that I can admire on someone else but do not feel comfortable in myself. It took me awhile to sort this out and to avoid having a closet that looked like the domain of someone with multiple personality disorder or an acting career. If the clothes don't feel like me they feel like a costume no matter how good they might look to others, no matter how flattering or appropriate or appealing them may be.
So when Keit, author of the blog Beauty In Insanity, told me I dress like a sorceress I was thrilled. I had not included sorceress in my list of words to guide my selections. Now I shall not be able to forget. The word has been seen and printed on my brain. When I flip through a rack of clothing on the hunt for something that calls to me, if I am momentarily distracted by a pencil skirt and loafers I will ask, 'would a sorceress wear this?' If not, then I can be pretty certain I will not feel right in it. Perhaps it belonged in my past life when I probably asked the question 'would a teacher wear this?' but for now I am a sorceress.
This title should probably be amended to read How To Dress Like a Friendly Sorceress Disguised as a Wood Sprite. I doubt I would scare anyone or pull of a dark look. Blues and greens are happily cheering up my moody black today.
Rumi is rudely barging into this photo but then it does add a nice splash of colour. The hand warmers are sewn (not by me I'm afraid) from recycled wool and cashmere .
The layers here involve some nicely textured knee high stockings with cropped leggings, allowing the layered look I love without getting too warm.
Happy Tuesday all you lovely, sweet, intelligent, warm, talented and overall fantabulous people!