To start off my week of spooky reposts from last Halloween, an explanation of Fad Number 3: A journey to Wicca.
All I wanted to be was a witch, with cool powers and amazingly long dark hair that flowed over my velvet clad shoulders as I strutted around my cauldron. Witches were beautiful, alluring, intriguing and although I didn’t have a ‘Scooby’ what at least two of those words meant, I knew I had found my calling in life. I was six.
From this very early age, I developed a love of all things mysterious and mythical. I would lap up watching anything with a connection to the supernatural, whether it be bloodsucking day walkers or covens of high witches. From Grotbags to Buffy, Sabrina to Ghost Whisperer, if it involved spells and magical creatures, I was on it!
I was a huge fan of Samantha in Bewitched and would spend hours perfecting my nose wiggle, desperately wanting something to move at my command. I read all the Jill Murphy ‘Worst Witch‘ series, longing to attend a boarding school that I could have magical adventures in. Of course, the reality was very different. When my mum took me for a look around one, I discovered there were no magic brooms, no cute familiars ready to curl around my legs and I was actually terrified of the dark corridors. She wasn’t too enamoured with the nuns either. But that’s for another story…