Fashionable Magic
“Change & magic are the same.” –Bernadette Mayer
Written by Rhiannon Auriol
Photograph by Annie Millman, modeled by Frances Mcclain
Magic is having a renaissance. But what does the ‘postmodern witch’ wear?
A (sub)culture of magic has always existed in various guises – and the beguilement of apparel has long been a source of power as well as a location of people’s fear of the occult. The traditionally imagined witch is either a hideous crone ragged in black with a pointed hat, or a ‘femme fatale’ figure – embodiments of two poles of femininity deemed deplorable by patriarchal society for centuries, the old woman or the whore.
In recent years however there has been considerable pushback against the misogynistic portrayal of witchcraft and its practicers as revisionist feminists began to interrogate the conventional interpretation of what it meant to be a witch. Popular culture latched on, resulting in what could be called an occult spring, a revolutionary fascination with all things magical in the media and the arts, the rise of a ‘pop-occulture’. Examples are various: from the new wave of astrologists and YouTube tarot card readers to the rise of actively practicing covens and Wiccan followers to the ‘pop changeling’ FKA Twigs whose latest album ‘Magdalene’ haunts you as if it were possessed by the ancient spirit of Saint Mary Magdalene herself, that eponymous figure of biblical womanhood. FKA Twigs wearing Ed Garber or Iris van Herpen not only dazzles with her sonic magic but channels her powerful presence through the get-ups to match, encapsulating the essence of what we mean when we talk about the contemporary sorceress. But we might also turn to Florence Welch, whose first book was titled ‘Useless Magic’ and whose barefooted concert performances resemble those of a Lothlorien elf, her flowing dresses and auburn hair recalling the features of Elizabeth Siddal, famous muse of the pre-Raphaelite artist Dante Gabriel Rossetti and the model for works such as Lady Lilith (‘Lilith’ is also the name of FKA Twigs’ sword). A cornucopia of other artists and musicians are also at the front line of this witchcraft revival, as well as the numerous young fashion designers creating ethereal, occult-inspired collections.
Clothes exert their own special influence and fashion can empower wearers through self-expression. This is not news. What is novel however is the part fashion has played in the transformation of the witch from a symbol of the outsider to a feminist symbol of reclamation and strength, without sacrificing the elements of drama or sexuality attached to the myth. The modern allure of magical iconography in fashion has powerful roots in the form of legendary singers Kate Bush and Stevie Nicks, their enchanting ballads and distinctive bohemian wardrobes, but since them it has undergone many costume changes. The young British designer Clio Peppiatt has captivated the imaginations of many with her intricate hand beaded designs and celestial motifs. Speaking to Polyester Zine in 2019 as a guest on their ‘witchcraft’ podcast episode, Peppiatt described how she incorporated her early love of tarot and palmistry practices into the witchy symbolism of her pieces, inspired particularly after watching the 2016 film The Love Witch.
The ‘Circe’ dress from Peppiatt’s A/W 2018 collection combines astrological imagery with Greek mythology, named after the ancient sorceress Circe who is fabled to have transformed the men who lusted after her into wild beasts. Through a delicate balance between opulent, floral motifs and the striking ornamentation of the tassel fringe a kind of pragmatic glamour is achieved – and as the poem ‘Circe’s Power’ by Louise Glück avows, ‘Every sorceress is / A pragmatist at heart.’ Peppiatt’s pragmatism surfaces in her sumptuous mastery of hand crafts, which lays claim to a feeling of poetic justice in the way that it reclaims and references witchcraft’s marginalised past. The needlework arts as part of the ‘women’s sphere’ of artwork were long ignored by those (men) who determined the canonical art history. But by bringing techniques such as these into the fashion spotlight Peppiatt pays homage to the creative designs of thousands of historic women who would stitch together in coven-esque collaboration, refining a craft which is really witchcraft in all but name, its results no less enchanting.
The acknowledgement of the contributions of needlework arts to the creative world is just one example of how in the current resurgent trend for the mystic we see a striking reversal of the narrative of history’s gaze, and indeed the history of fashion itself as a male-dominated industry. Witches are one of the only intrinsically gendered figures of power – and yet women in power are frequently branded with the insult ‘witch’ and judged for what they wear far more than men are – think of Julia Gillard, Meghan Markle, Nancy Pelosi, the list goes on. But in the era of #MeToo it has become possible to subvert such traditional power dynamics through a simple change of subject: this time around, as Rebecca Tamas writes, ‘I Am A Witch, And I Am Hunting You’ (The White Review, 2019). This disruption of the narrative exposes the raw materials with which we conjure change, the languages which shape history – and what is fashion but another of these powerful languages? Language speaks, illustrates as well as effects change. The casting of a spell is a creative process, its aim – change. Clothes too work spells.
We only have to look at the extraordinary popularity of the Viktor & Rolf S/S 19 ‘Fashion Statements’ couture to see how fashion communicates on many different levels – much like the multiple layers of tulle used to construct these extravagant dresses there are layers of meaning to be discovered. Featuring acerbic and colourful slogans such as ‘Leave Me Alone’ and ‘Go To Hell’, the contrast between the romantic silhouettes and the bitingly contemporary text creates the effect of a kind of wearable Instagram poetry which could seduce you one minute, hex you the next. The designs through their channelling of a uniquely current feeling spoke to the online generation in particular and quickly became a sensation on almost every social media platform, transformed through the power of the internet into a moment of URL magic. This was achieved through simple statements which nevertheless invited connection, suggesting through their unabashed kitsch-ness that all artistic expression creates a space for transformation, discussion and change.
The cult-like followings of certain fashion houses are veritable covens, but it is often the work of smaller designers which keep styles cutting-edge, realising and responding to the à la mode of magic in unprecedented numbers. Self-described ‘witch’ and recent fashion graduate Cat Rose O’Brien creates exquisite custom corsets out of velvet as well as other pieces imbued with a cool gothic romanticism such as her ‘Bat Dress’, ‘Cat Bag’ and ‘Extreme Witch Flares’, all made to order and featured in independent zines as well as larger publications such as Dazed. Similarly, the work of New York based designers Mattie Barringer and Armanda McGowan under the label Women’s History Museum embraces the anti-establishment approach which has long been associated with the occult. Their pieces are radically undefinable, with the appearance of being assembled from off-cuts and old lace, re-purposed pink puffer jackets stitched together with scraps of silk. ‘Women’s history’ is to an extent simultaneous with the history of witchcraft, and the influence of the witch is bursting through the seams of this ‘anti-fashion’.
Consequently, they are making a powerful statement about fashion’s unruly role in a society choked by hegemonic ideas about women’s bodies. Emphasising ephemerality, the collection embodies the conversation between power, style and sexuality, a product of pure frenzied creation, the Frankenstein’s creature of fashion. It seems that only a feat of magic could be holding these creations together, and yet the scrappy glamour of it holds.
‘Glamour’ is a word frequently used upon description of an aspect of the fashion world, but few are aware of its origins – the Scottish term gramarye (‘magic, enchantment, spell’) and the Old Icelandic glám-sýni (‘illusion’). Meanings, like fashions, tend to fall from grace and get forgotten or transformed. But regardless of its etymology, glamour continues to cast its bewitching spells, influencing the gaze of contemporary society from fashionistas to queer culture to the latest Versace. We look once again to the ‘femme fatale’ figure. Women’s ‘charms’ were often seen as ‘evil, rather than fruitful’ (Tamas) and their powers branded witchcraft, demonstrating a deep fear of glamour’s danger. And yet this demonisation of glamour only strengthens its allure, as something to be desired. The use of glamour in drag has been critiqued for a number of reasons (for example the unrealistic caricaturing of female attributes and the impact this has upon transgendered people seeking to ‘pass’ as well as queer womxn) but fundamentally it is a power which has been harnessed with phenomenal talent by drag queens and queer culture as a means of self-empowerment in a community which has suffered for so long from lack of visibility.
The employment of glamour is in many ways an expression of the desire to be a different version of yourself, or adjacently a form of protest due to lack of social change. This desire for change is a fundamental condition of life, and the only real constant that we know. And while changing your clothes is not some kind of cure-all, it is an essentially productive act, a realisation of that desire. Despite its frequent confusion with the superficial, glamour is fundamental to how we experience beauty and desire. The promise of glamour is transformation, its tools are costume, and if magic is change, then glamour is the most fashionable magic of all.