How hipster witches are casting a spell over social media
Lucy Holden meets two young women for whom witchcraft is a lifestyle statement – and a way to make an online living
It’s playtime at George White primary school in Norwich and, in the house opposite, two witches are staring into a crystal ball. In front of them are candles, spell books, a bunch of white sage and a bottle of moon water. A skull named Yorick sits between tea lights and, under the table, a cat called Lucifer swishes its tail.
Harmony Nice, 20, and Georgia Burns, 21, are 21st-century witches. Specifically, they are Wiccans and, with their heavy eye make-up, piercings and tattoos, they couldn’t be more hip.
Witchcraft, you see, is becoming more and more fashionable, with thousands of young women (and some men, too) picking up the ancient craft in bedrooms across the country. Many of this Harry Potter generation see parts of it – like gazing into a crystal ball – as a form of mindfulness. And it’s certainly more interesting than yoga.
But being a modern witch isn’t easy. Georgia has had to ask her mother not to vacuum near her altar, in case she sucks up some magic, while Harmony has a hard time stopping Lucifer eating her sage. “She loves it,” she says, rolling her eyes.
Some of these hipster witches refuse to believe you can divide the community into “good” and “bad” (with black magic believed to be the work of the Devil). Harmony may have a pet named Lucifer, but it was a rescue cat named by its previous owners.
The two young women don’t believe in Satan but paganism, celebrating nature via “Sabbath day” holidays that revolve around the earth’s rhythms. For Wiccans, the new year begins on Oct 31 and there are eight holidays per annum, including winter and summer solstice.
“White witches” have similar beliefs, with moons particularly symbolic for both; Georgia’s bottle of moon water was collected to harness the power of January’s super blue moon. Leave a bottle of water out during a full moon, then add drops to your soup, she suggests, for a touch of magic.
There were 57,000 pagans in England and Wales, according to the most recent Government census in 2011, and 18,000 Wiccans, druids and heathens (pagan offshoots). When the next Census takes place in 2021, it’s expected the numbers could double.
You only have to look at social media to see how huge modern witchcraft has become. Georgia, a psychology student from Bromley, has 18,000 Instagram followers and practises from an altar in her bedroom, complete with cauldron, wand and chalice. Harmony, who lives in Norwich and makes a living out of her Youtube channel, has 260,000 followers and a book out later this year.
“A lot of it is fashion,” Harmony says. “But it’s also more and more popular because it’s an empowering faith. It makes you feel like you’ve got a hold on your life, and can bring yourself more positivity when you’re not given much power by society in other ways.”
Harmony started reading about witchcraft when she was 14, after learning her great-grandmother was a witch, and picked up Wicca two years later. It involves a private “selfdedication ceremony”, which involves casting your first spell, performing a ritual or meditating with crystals. Her parents, atheists with “normal jobs”, were “pretty cool about it”, she says.
They still face some backlash from people who “don’t understand”, albeit nothing compared with how they may have been treated centuries ago, Harmony acknowledges. “I would have easily been burnt at the stake: tall, redhead and Wiccan,” she says.
Georgia learnt to read tarot cards from her mother. She grew up as an Irish Catholic, but says she found it controlling, especially towards women. She is reading a book filled with spells to enhance your sex life and become a millionaire. Others – a quick cash potion, relationship rescue pie – are more like recipes than spells, and could almost fit into the foodie trend.
When it comes to spells, Wiccans are banned from “intentionally” causing mental or physical harm to people. “Witches don’t have that rule,” says Harmony. “They could intentionally harm you if they wanted to. My great-grandmother was a witch and she was a force to be reckoned with. She gave anyone she didn’t like a headache.”
In Derbyshire, 23-year-old Laura Brookes practises mindful witchcraft. “Knowing I can dabble with a bit of magic when day-to-day life is getting to me is an amazing feeling. I know if I read my cards, hold a few crystals and meditate, or even do a small spell, my attitude and the way I feel improves tremendously. It is very empowering.”
For this generation of young women “feeling good is the new looking good,” says Jane Kellock, creative director of Unique Style Platform, a trend forecasting company. “The quest for good mental health has become as important as physical fitness.” A host of websites are cropping up to cater for a taste in everything witchy, she adds.
Tanya Townley, 27, a white witch from Lancashire, launched a subscription box last May, which delivers altar ware, incense and crystals for £27 a month. Since she started, customers have increased by 500 per cent and more than half are in the UK.
Still, there might be a little way to go, thinks Harmony. She tells me a Ouija board is lurking somewhere in the family, but her mother won’t let her near it. At least you’ve got a nice skull, I say, picking up Yorick. “That’s not real,” she laments. “They cost about £1,000. I got mine on Amazon for a tenner.”
‘Dabbling with a bit of magic when dayto-day life is getting to me is amazing’