[Glamour Guest Post] Dressing Your Worst - The Dark Side of Glamour

Want to be part of the glamour discussion? Once a week, I have a guest post spot for people from all magic-y/gender-y/sexual orientation/personal glamour orientation walks of life to talk about what glamour means to you both mundanely and magically. Any spellwork or personal revelations are welcome! Essays should be between 500-1000 words and be sure to include a brief bio about yourself and any links (blog, Etsy shop, etc) that you would like included.

Send it to me in the body of your email with the subject "Glamour" to corvaxgirl [at] gmail [dottie] com
A lot of articles and blog posts I've read about glamour often goes into the hows and whys of enhancing ones self. There are practical benefits to learning the basics of image, what your image says to others and how to tweak it to say what you want. Glamours can be really empowering if you work with them.

But are you dressing to highlight your best - or hide it?

Into her college years, one of my best friends wore her hair very long until it overpowered her features and constantly dressed in a child-like manner. Despite repeatedly moaning about how people never took seriously as an adult and artist, she refused to even consider changing her appearance to present a more mature image. Any attempts to convince her to try were met with the argument that she didn't want to change "who she was" or inhibit her "style". However, I doubt she would have described her personality or style as timid and childish! Her fear, insecurity and lack of confidence was dictating how she dressed - resulting in a glamour that made her forgettable and easily dismissed. It wasn't until after she had graduated school and was living on her own that she began to shed that glamour - dressing more appropriately for her age and even trying an adorably cute short haircut (the first time I had ever seen her cut her hair).

I dressed that way as well for many years. I wore baggy and bland clothing designed to blend into the background. Growing up, I always felt singled out and ostracized in my neighborhood, so I dressed to avoid further attention (and consequently, danger). I was dressing from fear, my glamour was to become invisible. As I became older and more confident in myself, I felt more free to choose clothing items that displayed my personality instead of hiding it (still working on it though).

But negative glamours aren't just about baggy, bland clothes and hiding behind your haircut. Overly revealing clothing can be a negative glamour as well - plunging necklines, non-existent clothing and skirts too tight to walk in draw attention to your body - not your personality or character. If someone is staring at your chest, they aren't looking you in the eyes and giving you the respect of their attention to your words. This can be an intentional glamour, just like dressing invisibly can be, but just as often negative glamours can be the unintentional result of unresolved issues. The difference is awareness.

It's good to get a basic idea of what various images you may be projecting by taking a good look at yourself (and your closet) and asking yourself a few questions. This is by no means a complete list, but some good starter points may be:

What are your favorite colors? Why? How do they make you feel or what images/memories do they evoke? For example, my favorite color is a bright electric blue- it makes me feel energized, but calm and makes me think of high mountain tops under clear skies and roaring winds. Yes, blue reminds me of Peppermint Patty commercial, so sue me.

How much of your favorite color(s) are in your wardrobe? If they aren't, why not?
What is the dominant color in your wardrobe? For me, my pants fall into two categories: blue jeans or black slacks. Casual and professional. I tend to avoid bright pants because a) black pants are supposed to be slimming and b) I can't cover up bright pants with a jacket. For tops, I lean heavily towards the cool color end of the spectrum: greens, purples, blues and muted versions of them.
What clothes do you wear over and over again? How do they make you feel? You'll probably find that you have "power" clothes- clothes that you really love wearing- and "comfort" clothes- the ones you throw on and run out with because they are simple, easy standbys.
How do they make you look? Really? For this one, you might want to take a photo. No, not one with a cute pose or at a flattering angle- a straight-on full-body shot in clear light. Try to imagine that you're looking at yourself walking down the street - do those "casual" clothes really look sloppy?
How is the condition of your hair? Do you have rampant split ends, dryness or other chronic problems? Do these come from not taking care of your hair- or taking too much care of it (blasting it with heat and chemical treatments for example)?

How long have you had your current hair cut? If you can't remember ever changing your hairstyle, ask yourself why. I've had my hair cut short for a few years and have kept it this way for very specific reasons - it's thin, so I keep it layered and short hair makes styling and maintenance a breeze. For me, the convenience outweighs the fact that the cut might not be the most flattering for my round, chubby face.

Would you be willing to throw away all your clothes and radically change your hairstyle? If just reading that question made you grit your teeth, ask yourself why you're so attached to how you currently look/dress. TLC's show What Not to Wear is a great example of people who really cling to their own narrow ideas of how they should look, so I recommend watching it.

Get your friends in on it. It can really interesting to have an impromptu fashion show and see what impressions your friends and family get from your look.

Of course, not everyone is going to be affected the same by your clothing or accessories. While you might feel sleek and polished in a pant suit, it's guaranteed that someone else will see it as typical corporate zombie wear, so don't drive yourself crazy trying to project specific images to the world. A red scarf or tie might help you stand out and be more memorial during a job interview, but that might be because your interviewer hates red and thinks you're an arrogant blowhard for wearing it (instead of appearing bold and confident like you intended), so at some point you'll have to just let the dice fall as they may. It can be more fun to treat it all like a game and experiment with different clothing personas (How would your superhero self dress? Or your zombie apocalypse survivor self?).

Remember, it's just clothing - not the definition of who you are.

Bio: ApocalypseGrrl is a writer and creative mercenary living in New York City. She currently is studying up on urban agriculture and quick and easy house building in anticipation of the coming apocalypse

Glamour Rites

So I've been crying and whinging endlessly to anyone who will listen about being old and fat and no fun.  But at the end of the day, I'm a do'er.  I can't just roll around in the muck endlessly, I need to change things.  I've been trying to change things using boring, non magical means such as Pinterest boards to figure out where I'm going, not eating like my twenty year old self, going to the gym and changing my wardrobe.

But still.  There was inertia.  Then I read my PEH's soon to be seminal work, Sigils Reboot.  And I started thinking.  And planning.  I thought I would have done this rite like two weeks ago but shit kept happening.  So instead I spent my Good Friday (which I happened to have off and was both a Friday and a Full Moon) avoiding my family and practicing witchcraft.  Like you do.

You can't do a Glamour Rite without Beauty
Regime.  Pictured: Lucky 13 Soap (Lush),
Sephora Full Effect Mascara, Benefit Lipstick in
Miss Behavin', Coconut Milk Frangipani Face Mask,
Clinique Moisture Surge Moisturizer, Kabuki Brush
and Evian Mister


  

Ritual Attire

Ritual Altar: St. Germain, Fruit Tart, Mixed Dried Flowers,
My Ladies, Rose Absolute Essential Oil, Twilight Alchemy Labe
Milk and Honey, Stang and Cauldron propolis resin, Beeswax Candle
made by myself in French Hussy, vintage salt cellar with black salt

Post Ritual

Cherry Blossom Tree 

Daffodils

Primped from my nose to my toes

It was mandated by my Ladies that I go out post-rite to celebrate.

Grey Goose Pear Martinis for Everyone!

Emotional Cutting, the French and Your Magical Practice

Because I'm an emotional cutter, nothing says trying to unwind from a hectic schedule of nannying and a terrible fibro flareup like reading books about French women and why everything they do is awesome including, probably, pooping. 

And of course the French seem to be unbearably smug about everything from how easy it is for them to parent to not needing close friends to never getting fat to all their food to always being fashionable and having sex all the time and work life balance?  What is that?  We don't even need to worry about that.

So as always, upon completing a French aspirational book I'm torn between equal parts frothing jealous hatred and desperate desire to be like a French woman.

I was talking to Gordon about how there doesn't seem to be much in the way of magical practice on how not to be heavier than you would prefer.  We both have theories about this, mine is a lot of blahblahblah the gods from Pagan cultures don't really understand the concept of having too much food and not enough exercise so when you're like, PLEASE YEMAYA, I DON'T WANT TO BE FAT ANYMORE, HALP HALP.  She's like . . .explain?  And I'm like, NO MORE FAT!  NOT HAPPY!  And She's like, you're unhappy because of your incredible access to any food whenever you want and your ginormous boobs and hips and ass that means that you'd be a good mate and mother?  And I'm like. . . .yes.  And she's like, girl I don't even know where to start with that.

So I've been thinking a lot about the French, living well, magic, appearance, glamour and charm/Charm. 

Naturally, the French look down their nose at what I'm doing right now (working like a psycho).  Jason wrote about how sometimes you just need to accept things are going to suck in order to get the things you want.  And I agree with that as well and it's been what I've been doing so far this year.  But I'm not good at accepting a never ending suck without end for a year.  It makes me depressed and aggreviated and irritated. 

So last night I called a meeting with all my personal pantheon and just made a tearful plea to help me figure out how to not be fat, how to be happy and how to still accomplish my goals. I woke up this morning ready to take on the world a little better.

What I'm Doing (and You Can Too):
1. Glamour correctly.   My previous glamours weren't working right because as one of my mentors told me, I'm fishing in the wrong pond.  I don't want someone in particular attracted to me, I'm not looking to get down really and I don't want anyone getting all "I must have you" and I must have mace or a restraining order.  I'm looking more for light flirtation and people  to think I'm charming and attractive.  To this end, I'm making a mojo hand for this working (and I'll make them available if I like the way mine works) and I'm getting a new TAL oil.  I'm going to contemplate new sigils as well.

2. Do you feel good about how you look on a random Tuesday?  First off, I needed to get a good hair cut, so I did that.  But I don't have time to flat iron at 6a for only a baby to see it.  But I could get really cute hair ties to jazz up my ponytail and use a few bobby pins.  I needed to figure out how to look cute while still being vomited and shat on.  I got inspired from a few place to figure out what I should be wearing and created a Pintrest board to really pull my week day look together as well as figure out some pj wear and going out clothes.   It really helped to focus me for what I was going for.  I also developed a quick make up routine as well.

3. You Are Not Alone  Besides Charmers working on their Experiments, people are working on unfucking their lives mundanely on Tumblr.  I am especially fond of Cat Valente's Girl Unlocked because she's a writer too and has similar issues to me. Also she's super funny and has a great makeup routine.

4. You Don't Have to Like It, You Just Have to Do It.  This motto has helped me start to get my ass to the gym three times last week.  It really helped me shut my brain weasels off by going straight to the gym as soon as I got up.  For me it also helped to hear that it was okay to have more pain than usual with the fibro, it was better to do it. (My current flare started on Wed due to weather changes verses gym changes.  30 degree change in a day knocks me flat on my ass every time)

5. Small Changes.  Okay so the French would probably not be into us eating the same thing practically every night as we've been doing.  So I just looked up some crockpot recipes to jazz things up on my Tues/Thurs which is my longest night.  We just got a cleaning service because with both of us working 40+ hours a week, it was becoming ridic.  A cleaning service will also keep us on top of things they don't do - decluttering, laundry, etc.  I'm tired of our tea kettles always getting gross.  I just ordered an electric kettle (and some fancy tea and okay, another French aspirational book because again, emotional cutter).  

6. Petition the right gods and spirits.  I'm working on a project that might bring me closer to the right spirit/Egregor but it's still in its baby stages.  In the interim, consider Durga.  Durga may not be overly invested in your weight loss per se, but She can relate to a person wanting to be as pretty, charming and smart as She is.  Puja and mala work works for this.

7. How Important Is This to You?  Really.  I keep crying and whining about being fat, not tending to my inner garden (the French are apparently big on this), not feeling sexy, etc., etc.  But what am I doing?  To the French, it's apparently more important to look good than to eat that donut.  So I'm going to change my eating habits and try to think more about what I'm eating and why.  Daytime eating tends to be boring anyway so I have a new plan for that.  I'm also going to cut down on snacks.  I am a huge snacker.  The French don't do that.  So . . .we'll see.

[Glamour Guest Post] n Glamours: Burlesque and Witchcraft (Mama Fortune)

Want to be part of the glamour discussion?  Once a week, I have a guest post spot for people from all magic-y/gender-y/sexual orientation/personal glamour orientation walks of life to talk about what glamour means to you both mundanely and magically. Any spellwork or personal revelations are welcome! Essays should be between 500-1000 words and be sure to include a brief bio about yourself and any links (blog, Etsy shop, etc) that you would like included.

Send it to me in the body of your email with the subject "Glamour" to corvaxgirl [at] gmail [dottie] com

About Mama Fortune: I am an artist and burlesque performer in Vancouver, British Columbia. I've been practising witchcraft for fifteen years, with a focus on the practical side of things. Recently, I've begun teaching tarot and magic.
My blog is http://mama-fortuna.blogspot.com/


Twin Glamours: Burlesque and Witchcraft  Or: What glitter can do for you.

When I was in my early twenties, I had a brief affair with a Satanist. He looked remarkably like Marc Bolan, wore a leather jacket no matter the weather, and loved Conan the Barbarian. One night, over drinks in the world's ugliest faux Irish pub, he lent me a copy of Anton Szandor LaVey's The Satanic Witch.  I'm sure I was supposed to be very scandalised and maybe a bit titillated. I read the book from cover to cover, and when I was later asked for my opinion I declared, with one eyebrow arched, “That book is about my MOTHER.”

I still have the book. It's dated, and nobody could claim it's a great work of literature, but I hang onto it because it continues to hold relevance in my life despite my disagreements with it. I will return to this fact later. But first, my mom, the accidental Satanic Witch.

Growing up, my mother always stressed the importance of 'looking nice.' This is not to say she was one of those women you see on Toddlers and Tiaras forcing her kids into makeup – she was nothing of the sort. I was a teenager in the 1990s, when grunge was king, and my mother never once questioned my fashion choices, even when they veered into the unusual; black lipstick and combat boots were my uniform throughout much of highschool, and my mother simply encouraged me no matter what my style to try and look my best in my own way. To look put together, even if that included vinyl pants. My mother knew looks mattered.

Human beings are visual creatures. We judge one another by our appearance long before we utter a word. Most would agree that this is a pretty simple fact. (Whether or not it's fair is not relevant.) Another basic truth is that physical appearance, to a large degree, is easy to manipulate, So easy, in fact, that I am constantly surprised by how many witches and magicians overlook the opportunity to do so.

During the aforementioned black lipstick phase, a friend and I once conducted an experiment for a class. We stopped strangers in the park and asked them a series of bullshit questions on camera, supposedly for a class assignment. In reality we didn't care about their answers – we cared about their reaction to the interviewer, caught handily on film. My friend was clean-cut, with brown hair and a button-down blouse. If memory serves, my hair was violent red and black at the time, and my makeup was straight out of Siouxsie Sioux's liner notes. I also wore an inverted cross necklace just to make things even more entertaining.

Not surprisingly, our hypothesis was proved correct: we got very different reactions. That silly little experiment hammered home at an early age the fact that people will assume all manner of things based on how you present yourself.

I'm thirty-years old, now, and I am a burlesque performer. Burlesque is a world inhabited by people (mostly women) of all shapes, sizes, and styles. The one thing every last professional of the art has in common, however, is the understanding that looks can be manipulated... and used to manipulate. Burlesquers are natural witches in the way old Anton would have understood.

In The Satanic Witch, LaVey discusses 'the Law of the Forbidden,' “Nothing,” he states, “is so fascinating as that which is not meant to be seen.” He has an entire chapter devoted to the correct way in which a lady should 'accidentally' expose herself! Now, while his suggestions are for everyday life, reading them I am struck by how similar they are to the art of the tease. Burlesque performers are strippers, yes, but strippers who seem to intuitively grasp the ideas LaVey talks about – simply taking off your clothes is not enough. He also discusses at length a witch's mode of dress. He suggests the aspiring witch look to the cartoons in men's magazines, as these are exaggerations of a style designed to elicit a particular response. Striptease is really no different – the corsets, false eyelashes, garters, and spike heels are all part of the act.

And that's really it. It's an act. My friend Diamond Minx, when seen at an event, is a vision in rhinestones from head to toe. You would think the woman lived in a state of constant luxury, all glitter and champagne. But here's a secret... I've seen her in sweatpants. It's a glamour. A glamourous glamour, to be sure, but as changeable as all the rest.

Glamour is not just for the stage. There is just as much a need for it in the office, at the PTA, or on your online dating profile. Your appearance is a statement, and may vary depending on circumstance: a corset in a fetish club is not shocking, but the same outfit in church is. This has nothing to do with calling out certain looks, either. This is about deliberate intent, not personal taste. Glamour is powerful everyday magic, and in my experience the witch who overlooks it is doing so out of sheer stubbornness and ego. It's as though nobody wants to believe that others could possibly judge them on their appearance, because we're special, and above such trivial things.

Uh-huh.

You can charge a piece of jewellery with the intent to draw love, but your chances are going to be better if you bother to comb your hair, brush your teeth, and tailor your clothes.

2012 is a big year for many of us. And so I encourage all and sundry to not neglect your glorious meatsack. Put your best foot forward physically as well as spiritually – take a moment to examine your style critically and make sure it's 'on message' with your goals. If it isn't, tweak it with intent. Glamour is the art of pairing the physical and the energetic. Use it!

“I advocate glamour. Every day. Every minute.” - Dita Von Teese

Call for Submissions: Glamour in the New World Order

It's been interesting to find that glamour can be such a hot button topic, but it is.  It seems to be something that people feel passionately about one way or another.  As it's something I'm contemplating v. strongly now in preparation for my book writing, I'd love to hear more of *your* thoughts on the matter.

So I'm offering a weekly guest post spot for people from all magic-y/gender-y/sexual orientation/personal glamour orientation walks of life to talk about what glamour means to you both mundanely and magically.  Any spellwork or personal revelations are welcome!  Essays should be between 500-1000 words and be sure to include a brief bio about yourself and any links (blog, Etsy shop, etc) that you would like included.

Send it to me in the body of your email with the subject "Glamour" to corvaxgirl   [at]     gmail     [dottie]   com

Glamour in the New World Order: We Are Who We Pretend to Be so We Must Be Careful Who We Pretend to Be

"We must dress well, or the future
will not take us seriously." - CMV

 Glamour can be a tricksy thing, I find.  On one hand, Jason is correct.  If you're interviewing for jobs in corporate America, you should be wearing a suit.  You all know how I feel about what to wear at a funeral.

But we diverge somewhat.  Because I do believe what you wear is part of who you are.  If you don't like that thought process, you're not going to like the rest of this entry either.  It's cool, we don't need to be in perfect Stepford agreement here.

More than that, it's part of your magic.  I've worn suits for work, trying to dress like my boss to get promoted.  It didn't work, I just felt like I was in drag all the time.  When I stopped giving a shit about impressing people at my work place and just wanted to do my job correctly and not get fired and frankly stopped caring past getting a paycheck, that's when the tide turned for me.  If conventional wisdom worked all the time, we'd all be CEOs of green Pagan multimillion dollar corporations, n'est-ce pas?

But yeah, when I played Nine Inch Nails in my cube and walked with purpose down the hall in heeled combat boots with sparkly laces, that's when I got promoted.  I would have kept getting promoted if I stayed but it was crushing me, living in a cube.

2012 is a year of starstorms.  I, like Gordon, invite you to think past just dressing like your boss.  You need to dress like you.  Your best you.  I invite you to start your own personal revolution.  That's what this Experiment is supposed to be about, right?  Stop coloring in the lines and worrying about being a good worker bee and start getting concerned about burning down the establishment your damn self and making shit happen for yourself.

You know what I'm supposed to be doing?  I was supposed to get another Executive Assistant job when my last company died and keep my shoulder to the wheel and keep doing what I was doing.

If you always do what you've always done, You.  Always.  Get.  What.  You've.  Always.  Gotten.  That's not what this Experiment is about.  It's about busting shit up and getting shit done.  I diverged off the path I was supposed to be on and I'm happier for it.  I make as much money as I was making as an Exec Assistant as a nanny.  A nanny.  Where I sing songs and have two to three hours of nap times a day and no direct supervision at all.  And when they don't nap anymore?  That's when I get a new fucking family.  That's how this works, every four years or so, I reset the clock and get new infants.  I've managed to turn a profit at almost every show I did for my first year out as a crafter.

I'm published all over the place in all kinds of things because I was preparing myself for the way publishing used to work.  It's great exposure and a little bit of money, but that's not what I'm doing when I write my first short book.   Who do I want to be?  Do I want to be like every indie artist trying to get a record deal for them to possibly just fire my ass when they don't like my numbers or the way I dress or that I cuss too much or do I want to be fucking Ani Difranco?

Ani Difranco, kids.

What does this have to do with glamour?  Well, while you're burning down your old ideas of how the world was supposed to work and drinking St. Germain in your pajamas at home in this new world order, you need to get to thinking about how you want to present the apres global meltdown you to yourself and others.  Glamour is magic.  A part of it is the magic of trappings, something that some Pagans and Geeks disdain in equal measures.  But not all Pagans and not all Geeks.  After all, SalonCon never would have happened if there weren't Geeks who dreamed of tea and corsets like I do.

There's a kind of Geek/Pagan privilege that  is rooted though not exclusively, predominantly in straight white middle class guys who think they shouldn't have to care about how they present themselves to the world, the gift of being their special snowflake selves should be enough for the world and if they never want to "get dressed up" for a girlfriend/a job/a wedding, they shouldn't have to.

I think you should want more for yourselves than that though because you're missing out.   SalonCon never required people to dress in suits and corsets with poofy skirts (though there were people who did), it was always about wearing what made you feel awesome and turned people's heads.

I've helped some of my more fashionably challenged friends to dress and groom themselves to be the best them that they could be.  I asked what they didn't like and why they didn't like it, what kind of budget they had and encouraged them to test their boundaries a little and helped them pick clothes that's not just appropriate to age/venue/etc but also appropriate to their own sense of style.  The transformation was always inevitably, well, like magic.

Use that knowledge.  Know yourself well enough to figure out your own sense of style while still being age and venue appropriate.  You won't get it right the first time and that's okay.  I didn't.  When I ran SalonCon I had this weird quasi-split personality where I'd have several people at once doing my hair, make up, nails and lacing me into corsets and difficult shoes so I presented myself as someone leading a convention about aesthetic should be presenting herself.  The rest of my life?  Hair in pony tail, yoga pants, t shirt and Uggs.  Did I feel my best in my day to day life?  No.  I did not.  I had such whiplash going from one extreme to another with the added stress of no longer being able to dress like a teenager/early twentysomething I didn't know what the fuck to do with myself.

I knew what looked good when I was 20, it was harder for me to figure out what looked good (and appropriate) once I got past the age of 25.   When my mom or my boss wanted to give input on what I should wear, it always felt kind of like wearing drag.  All that time being too disspirited to try to figure out didn't just affect my self esteem, it affected my magic because I felt out of step with myself.  I worked hard to figure out what looked good, was reasonably age appropriate and still felt like me.  That's part of the trick too, figuring out what the "rules" are for you and your life and then figuring out just how far you can bend them before they break.  It will be a work in progress as you age and your various life circumstances change but it's worth investing not just the time and money but the energy into.  The more energy you put into it, the more you'll be able to draw on your own personal glamoury in your magic.  Figure out what looks good on you and feels like you.  Figure out what makes you feel powerful about your appearance and use it, godsdamn it.  It's just one more facet to your magical self.

New Year, New You: An Experiment in Magical Radical Transformation

Yeah. . .She's not this classy.  Trust me.

My muse and I have an on-going disagreement of sorts.  Well.  I do.  She is indifferent as usual to my thoughts and feelings.  She clomps into my bedroom, heels in hand, cosmo and cheese fries on her breath.

She (poking me hard):  Hey.  Get up.

Me: What?  It's bedtime and we're not talking friends --

She: Whatever.  I have an idea.

Me: Your ideas are disorderly and often inconvenient.  I'm going back to bed.

She: No, you're not.  I'm going to keep poking you in your brain pan until you listen.  Are you listening now?  Are you listening now?  Are you listening now?  Are you listening now?  Are you listening now?  Are you listening --

Me: JESUS CHRIST, I HATE YOU!

She: So it goes like this.

So, you're supposed to be, like, magicians, occultists, witches in the woods and the kitchen and on the soccer field, right?  Workers of wonder.  Dream weavers.  People who get shit done.  Isn't this the year to make your own luck?  You're feeling especially awful with the nights that never end and run over by the holidaze and you can't drink joie forever before needing a meeting.  So now's the fucking time.  Don't wait until that stupid glitter ball drops and you're already making drunk and/or sentimental mistakes, start now.  Start now when it's hardest.  Start now when you feel so weighed down with emotions better left to glittery and not so glittery vampires and when you feel like you could sleep forever.  Now is the time you need to wake up.  Get up, get up!  Don't miss this moment.  Create magics great and small, mundane and mystical.  Find everything you've been looking for, mysteries revealed in every form of divination and song and when you fuck it up, when you are too tired to try, bring each other up from bloodied knees to get back up smiling.  You are all made of stars and you have stardust in your veins.  Do something about it.

Here is what you'll do.  You'll write prompts.  You'll explore.  You'll fall down.  Sometimes you'll lay there awhile, finding things under rocks that you never wanted to know.  They'll pull you back, using yarn, glue, cajoling and stern words.  You'll keep sewing yourself into who you'll want to be and you'll tell them, sometimes too much, because that's your way and what's needed.  You'll find how far you can really fly when you've made wings to carry you and be breathless from your accomplishments.  Besides your words, you'll give something made from your hands.  

Here is what they'll do.  Form a community of tealight hearths and stories high bonfires.  They'll whisper their stories, spirials of success and failure.  You'll learn from each other, make each other laugh, piss each other off.  You'll get things done together and alone.  You'll be afraid together, so knees up.    

Here's how it will work:

There's a prize.  Of course there's a prize.  I will do a random drawing and whoever wins can chose  one item from my shop and I will ship it anywhere in the world for free.  The Drawing will take place on Valentine's Day.  

I will put everyone's name in a hat and have Jow chose a name from the hat.  If you are a fiber freak (yarn, Dream Ambassadors, felted soap), I will even hand dye that item in the color of your choice.

You get one entry when:

* You add the "New Year, New You" button to your blog

* You blog about the "New Year, New You" experiment to spread the word about it

* You blog in response to any of my "New Year, New You" prompts (one entry each time you do so!)

* You blog about your own "New Year, New You" experiment (one entry each time you do so!).  You are captain of your own ship, if you're ass deep in your own experiments in making yourself stronger, faster, braver and more magical, that certainly counts.

You must leave me a comment with the appropriate link so that I know you have done these things.

Pre-Release Announcement: First Magical Product Release!

I will be releasing my solid parfum in honor of Erzulie called La Luxure. It can be worn as a devotion to Erzulie but also functions as an attracting glamour to attract a potential partner or to get your current partner in the mood. ;) The dreamily sensual rich fragrance is a sexy rose base with notes of coquettish jasmine, warm ginger, creamy coconut, decadent champagne and a pop of creamy pink sparkle. Each tin is covered with a hand embroidered piece of damask with Erzulie's Veve. The solid part of the perfume is made from coconut oil, bees wax, organic shea butter, organic cocoa butter and Vitamin E. Naturally, each parfum will be fixed through prayer, offerings and magical working. The only animal this has been tested on is me (you're welcome!)

There are only five of these that will be offered and once they're gone, they're gone. Each parfum will cost $20 and $3 shipping to the U.S. International orders will be accepted, but please drop me a line so we can figure out shipping. They will be available through my Etsy shop. If you would rather just go through Paypal, drop me a line and we'll work that out.

I will also accept pre-release reservations for the parfum by comments to this entry and/or an email to corvaxgirl [at] gmail [dottie] com , but if you don't pay by Thursday then your parfum will be back up for general sales.

But I like you/ although you don't know it/ I like you so much I talk to everyone but you

As I previously mentioned, I'm def open to taking questions (feel free to email me at corvaxgirl [at] gmail [dot] [com]) about your magical quandaries and I am happy to give you my two cents. An anonymous reader expressed that she's often shy around boys and explained some of the things she's doing to work on it mundanely and queried what she should do magically.

First off, oh girl do I relate! If I like someone and I'm caught off guard about it, my response is to answer that person tersely, never look at zir, not instigate conversation and freeze up when s/he touches me in any way. OBVIOUSLY I MUST be interested!

Let's talk mundane tactics and then get to the magic awesome.

1. It's a panic response and it can be hard to train yourself out of it. But certainly not impossible. Think about what makes you do that. For me, if I'm in an unfamiliar setting and I don't know a lot of people and I don't know what the acceptable social convention is and other people all know each other, I flail. I flail because I don't know how to find basic things like food, water and the bathroom and I feel dumb for not knowing. HOWEVER. If you put me in a place where I know some people, generally know how to behave and what to expect, I can turn on the charm like whoa. Try to figure out what factors can help you do better.

2. Try reading The Game. Now, a lot of people get v. huffy puffy about this book and (YMMV of course) honestly? As a feminist I didn't find anything offensive about it - he empathizes how not to freak out women and if you fail, it's your fault not hers so you need to fix your game. Not all of it will apply necessarily and by the end it felt like a lot to juggle (all the hooking and stories and postures) but some of it is really helpful. I'm not great at approaching people unless it's literally my job, a lot of the advice was pretty helpful to me just in terms of that.

3. Try different venues for dating. For me, I tend to meet people a few ways: 1. As a friend of a friend at a party. 2. the intertubes 3. at a convention (where we have common interests) 4. Some combination there of. I've gone on a date where I met someone at a club or bar precisely once. I enjoy going, but it's not where I'm going to make a love connection. Try speed dating, try "it's just lunch", ask a friend to set you up, try a common interest place (renfaire, book club, con, wine club, whatever's your thing), try OKC, try a club and figure out where *you* do best.

Onto the magic-y goodness!

1. Start by writing down some things you would like in a partner while burning a red candle (ideally with some rose oil on it or a rose scented candle). Ask your god/dess/es for their help, maybe make them an offering of some kind of sweet and/or champagne. Sprinkle dried rose petals on the paper, roll it towards you and seal the paper with the red candle wax and put it in your lingerie drawer.

2. Glamour-ize yourself! Whenever you are going somewhere you could potentially meet someone, wear whatever makes you feel like a local goddess. If you don't wear heels, don't! Grimacing won't help you make a good impression. If you feel super hot in a tank top and jeans that make your ass look like *bam!*, wear that! But dress with intent. I find putting make up on to be soothing to this end (and if you don't, disregard), I feel like I'm carefully putting on an Amazon mask of glamourous awesomeness. Body image issues can be difficult for many people (and oh do I know first hand) but I find it imperative to be able to look in the mirror and say (issues and all), Goddamn I look amazing! And if you can't, I recommend a fake it til you make it approach (i.e. keep saying it to yourself every time you pass a mirror til you start to believe it).

3. And then kick it up a notch. Using an eyeshadow brush, concentrate on putting your will for what you want to happen into the symbols/words you inscribe onto yourself using clear hand sanitizer. Seal your sigils using Come to Me oil (I happen to like this particular brand and this particular shop).

Solutions for Workplace Gossip

As I mentioned before, a reader wrote in to ask me what to do in a situation where there was work place gossip about her due to a personal problem with a coworker that was beginning to affect the opinions of her superiors in addition to affecting the opinions of her coworkers. She had enjoyed working in her work place before all this started and wants to do her best to safeguard her job security.

Here is what I suggested.

1. Invite the woman out to lunch. Don't bother trying to address the issue because it's on a "hinky" level verses a concrete level that you could specifically address. During lunch, just be as *charm*ing as you can be if you know what I mean (think old movie charming heroines like Audrey Hepburn, etc.) and project an energy of likeableness. Be as fun and outgoing as you can be, she may then think more kindly towards you because of that energy/you both like the real housewives of NJ or whatever.

2. Literally break bread with these people. Bake a loaf of quick bread using this recipe. The honey is important because it will sweeten their dispositions towards you, also add cinnamon to the recipe because that brings good fortune in business and money matters. As you are baking the bread, focus on putting your intent into it - that these people will like you and be favorably inclined towards you in business matters. Offer the bread to everyone who is giving you a problem - coworkers and your superiors.

3. When possible, offer to do the crap jobs that no one wants to do, whatever that is in your office. For me it was dealing with other departments, filing, etc.

4. Make a honeypot. Get a small jar of honey. Empty about two tablespoons of it into a small bowl. Put it on your altar as an offering and if you can, dispose of it by putting it by your work place door (outside). If you can't do that, just put it out on a crossroad somewhere. Get a small piece of brown paper bag that will fit in the jar and write the names of everyone causing you problems 3 times. While you are writing, do not let your pen leave the paper, neatness doesn't count here, continuity does. Put on top of the paper three cloves (to stop gossip), 3 cardamon seeds (to attact good luck), and 3 chamomile flowers (you can get them from a tea bag if need be) (to protect and keep money). Roll the paper towards you while praying for job security and for the gossip to stop and for these people to feel "sweet" towards you (the purpose of the honey). Put it in the honey jar. Screw the lid back on the honey jar tightly. Put the honey jar in your sink or cauldron (some place where it will be safe as we are about to get fire involved here). Now get a small green taper candle and carve a symbol or words for what you want into it and be sure to pray over it as well. Light it off your stove if it's gas, use a match in the kitchen if it's not. Let a little wax melt onto the lid of the jar and anchor the candle on top of the jar. Let the candle burn all the way out (I recommend getting a small taper for this). Put the honey pot on your altar. Be sure to continue burning candles on top of the honey jar with symbols and prayers once a week to keep the mojo going.

More on Songs and Spells

I was going to try to write two entries for the next two weeks, but somewhere along the way on the way home to do so, I got distracted by Kings of Leon's Sex on Fire. I couldn't figure out the words but I really liked the beat and the voice, it was sexxxxy. So, coincidentally are the lyrics. Naturally, I was then curious about the video. Dear lordess! Why was I not sent the memo on how dirty/sweaty/sexy hot the lead is, all writhing around on a mattress? (I'm looking at you, Gordon, you're remiss in your platonic husbandly duties, they're super popular in the UK)

So, um, yeah let's pretend this is a legitimate magical entry and not an excuse to stare at my new pretend boyfriend. Right then. A while ago, I talked about Songs as Spells which also was totally not an excuse to listen to more Florence and the Machine. In case my entry titles and general rambling doesn't make it obvious, I'm obsessed with music which is sort of funny since I as only passable in playing the flute and my voice resembles my totem, Crow (which is why I think the story about the crow and the cheese I read as a child resonated and my first memories are of crows as well as my unrelenting desire for cheese, but that's neither hither nor thither). My senior druid noticed I seem to see ritual through popular music a lot. I thought everyone did that, but apparently it's weird enough to notice in a grove full of weirdos. I make mix cds for the gods and rituals (I know other people who do it too so that part is less weird) and significant others.

In my other sekrit life, I'm totes a smut riter (digression: writing the pr0ntastic parts after the first few times is totally a drag fo' real. People who don't write smut think that opinion is strange and means I'm in the wrong field. People who write smut Get It because basically it's like trying to have sex while whistling the entire time. Yes, it's still sort of sexy but it's also about choreography, making sure if the skirt came off it stays off, word choice, how many synonyms can you find for "hard" "vagina" "pleasure" "cock", do men wear buttons on their trousers at that time do women wear panties, etc., etc. So I dread writing them like a dreading thing and put them off like whoa but once I successfully execute it, I'm like, I'M THE QUEEN OF THE MOTHERFUCKING WORLD! I PWN ALL OF YOU! ALL OF YOUR ORGASMS BELONG TO ME! Like normal writers do) and I knew I wanted this scene to have a certain feel to it, like Florence's Drumming Song so I played it over and over again on repeat while writing it and now I have a completed Steampunk romantica (which is super popular right now for the curious) to submit for an anthology with plenty of time to edit again just to make it perfect before submitting it.

So if music can work as spellwork and getting one through porn writing, wouldn't it stand to reason that it could also be integrated into one's serial killer board/transformative process? I mean, Grant Morrison manifested some truly freaky shit when working on The Invisables even by freaky shit standards and now he has hordes of fangirls throwing panties at him, partly due to his work where he told himself he was as cool as James Bond. I've been trying to tell myself I'm as cool as Joan Holloway with only marginal success. So I started thinking today when I was inspired by another song, maybe for me, a theme song would be more helpful. I have decided on Cake's Short Skirt, Long Jacket because of these lyrics:

A girl with/ the right allocations/ Who's fast and thorough/ And sharp as a tack/ she's playing/ with her jewelry/ she's putting up her hair/ she's touring the facilities/ and picking up slack/ a girl with/ Uninterupted prosperity/ who used a machete/ to cut through red tape/ with fingernails that/ shine like justice/ and a voice that is dark/ like tinted glass. . . .

Which basically describes a modern Joan Holloway. So that's going to be my theme song and we'll see where that takes me. This is a Charmer experiment! Pick a theme song that describes what you want to be as a person, something you're trying to achieve, about rabbits, whatever, play it semi regularly and see what happens in addition to your other magical workings.

Which song are you going to use?

Songs as Spells: I ain't got much book learnin'/ but I've got charms to win the race . . .

So, here's where my Hollow Ones methods really come to light. True confession time, Charmers (that's what I'm calling you from now on readers, hope it's cool!), my biggest stumbling point with Hoodoo is the use of Psalms. It . . .just does not do it for me generally speaking and really doesn't do it for me with the Psalms typically used. They just don't resonate with me and if it doesn't resonate then . . .how do I complete the spell?

Sure, as a writer I can occasionally come up with clever rhymes of my own but . . .it's limited to a certain extent. It can be hard for me to really raise energy that way sometimes to put into the spell and to focus since I don't have much of a meditation background. Well, you know what helps? Songs. Preferably modern songs. Think about things like Bards and how powerful their words can be. A really good song writer/singer/musical arrangement can be uberpowerful and really add a punch to your spellwork. It also really helps me focus because the song (I usually either "play" it in my head, actually play it or sing it, depending on the work) keeps my monkey brain busy enough to really focus on the work at hand. And as the words really crescendo, so does the spell. My suggestions are going to be v. based on what I'm into, you can substitute whatever you like and whatever works for you.

If you give this a try, drop me an email or a comment and let me know how it goes!

Trancing
Florence + The Machine: Cosmic Love
Relevant Lyrics: The stars/ the moon/ have all been blown out/ you left me in the dark/ no dawn/ no day/ I'm always in the twilight in the shadow of your heart/ but in the dark/ I can hear your heart beat/ I tried to find the sun/ but then/ I was in the darkness/ so darkness I became/ The stars!/ The moon!

Florence + The Machine: Raise It Up (Rabbit Heart)
Relevant Lyrics: The looking glass, so shiny and new/ How quickly the glamour fades/ I start spinning, slipping out of time/ Was it the wrong pill to take/ Raise up it!/ We raise it up, this offering/ We raise it up/ This is a gift/ it comes with a price/ Who is the lamb and who is the knife?

Money/Prosperity

Hole: Doll Parts
Relevant Lyrics: Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do/ Yeah they really want you, they really want you, but I do too/ I want to be the girl with the most cake

The Tiny: Everything is Free Now
Relevant Lyrics: I could get a straight job/ I've done it before/I never minded working hard/ It is who I'm working for/ Or I could get a tip job/ gas up a car/ or try to make a little change/ down at the bar/ Every day I wake up/ Am humming this song/ and I don't need to run around/ I can just stay at home/ and sing this little love song/ for the love in myself/ if there's something that you wanna hear/ you can sing it yourself/ Cause everything is free now/ That's what I say

Love/Lust Related Spells

Florence + the Machine: Drumming Song
Relevant Lyrics: Louder than sirens/ Louder than bells/ Sweeter than heaven/ And hotter than hell/ As I move my feet towards your body/ I can hear this beat/ and it gets louder and louder/ I run to the river/ I pray that the water will drown out the din/ But as the water fills my mouth/ It couldn't wash the echoes out/ But as the water fills my mouth/ It couldn't wash the echoes out/ I swallow the sound and it swallows me whole/ Till there's nothing left inside my soul/ As empty as that beating drum/ But the sound has just begun. . . .

Fiona Apple: First Taste
Relevant Lyrics: I do not struggle in your web/ for it was my aim to get caught/ but daddy longlegs I fear/ That I'm finally getting weary/ of waiting to be consumed by you/ Give me the first taste/ heaven cannot wait forever/ Darling just start the chase/ but you must make the endeavor . . .

Rasputina: If Your Kisses Can't Hold the Man You Love
Relevant Lyrics: Every time that I hear a woman cry 'cos her man has left her flat
I just feel like saying, "don't be such a fool, you fool."/ Better dry your eyes, can't you realize/ You gain nothing by that/ Well, that's no way to keep his heart warm, baby,/ When his love grows cool/ Don't cry for him or chase him/ Just go out and replace him/ With some good looking Tom, Dick or Jack/ 'Cos if your kisses won't hold the man you love / Then your tears won't bring him back

Hexing

The Pierces: Ruin
Relevant Lyrics: I do not want for you to be happy/ I do not want for you to be happy/ All that I want/ is for you to come to ruin/ all that I want/ is for you to come to ruin/ I want you to come to ruin/ I want you to come to ruin. . .

April March: Chick Habit
Relevant Lyrics: hang up the chick habit / hang it up, daddy, / a girl's not a tonic or a pill / hang up the chick habit /hang it up, daddy, /you're just jonesing for a spill / oh, how your bubble's gonna burst / when you meet another nurse
she'll be driving in a hearse / you're gonna need a heap of glue / when they all catch up with you and they cut you up in two / now your ears are ringing / the birds have stopped their singing /everything is turning grey . . .

Amy Winehouse: Back to Black
Relevant Lyrics: He left no time to regret / Kept his dick wet / With his same old safe bet /Me and my head high / And my tears dry / Get on without my guy / You went back to what you knew / So far removed from all that we went through / And I tread a troubled track / My odds are stacked / I'll go back to black / We only said good-bye with words / I died a hundred times / You go back to her / And I go back to black

Dresden Dolls: Backstabber
Relevant Lyrics: you always struck me as the type to take it lightly /but now you’re gonna have to shut your mouth or fight me/ backstabber, backstabber/ show us what you’re good for / stick it to the noise board / come on join the bloodsport/ backstabber, backstabber, backstabber . . .

Spell Sealing

The Pierces: Sticks and Stones
Relevant Lyrics: Seven times I pierce my heart/ and now you feel the magic start/ bind thy heart and soul to me/ As I do will/ so let it be. . .

Evanesance: Bring Me to Life
Relevant Lyrics: Wake me up inside/ wake me up inside/ call my name and save me from the dark/ bid my blood to run/ Before I come undone/ Breathe into me and make me real/ Bring me to life/ wake me up/ Wake me up inside. . .

Thoughts? Additions?

Rabbit Hearts and Revelation

So, I've watched Florence + The Machine's Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) about um five billion times this week.

Revelations:

* Why am I never invited to parties like this? RO, could we combine our Big Blogosphere Meetup Jamboree for this to be the day portion? Formal fae attire will be required, dancing and human sacrifice optional.

* I have wanted a chemise a la reine for quite some time because I have a secret Marie Antoinette fetish (really, that shouldn't be surprising), so I'm going to have one made for me on Etsy because I'm going to two fairy events this year I can wear it to and I hold out hope for our Jamboree.

* I don't want to call this video, like, a guaranteed ecstatic trance experience or anything mostly because I don't want to be bothered by whiners, but for me, five times in a row in and . . .I'm out like a trout.

* Despite this promising information, Jow is totally trance resistant, even though I came to this revelation at work under the influence of no drugs, alcohol or even a fun environment.

* I think it says a lot about us that I'm mediation resistant (Oh man! Rules! I have to fucking schedule this in! I'm supposed to just, like empty my brain even though I've taken a lot of time and energy to fill it with important information about who's banging who and who's mad at who both in real life and on telly, uck! I don't even think I want to be enlightened. Boring. I've banged my head against this for like a full year in the ADF dedicants program to find that hey! You know how you have a generalized anxiety disorder and you take meds for it? Remember all those terrible things that you've been through that you went to therapy for an extended time to work through to continue to function on a daily basis so you can go to work and be a working member of society? Remember how you don't really care about being enlightened or Getting to the Next Level? Hey, maybe you should leave that shit alone and not stir it all up again for a v. nebulous to you purpose as you can do magic just fine without an extended meditation practice) but pro-trance/ecstatic experience and Jow is exactly the opposite (what! I have to depend solely on my own experience? There's no empirical data to give me an exact blue print? It just happens? I have to do any number of things like dance, drink, drum, sweat lodge, use kava, go to a festival or listen to Florence + the Machine until I want to bang my head against the keyboard repeatedly? I said good day, Sir!).

* I do trance experiences before bed most nights before going to bed to go to my internal hearth. When I am super sick and cannot clean my actual house, I clean my internal hearth. When I don't have much money (which is always), I can make elaborate offerings to my gods on my beach and hang with them.

* I like trance because . . .sometimes I get performance anxiety pressure about random things, like I can't feel feelings on command, which was an issue about my wedding which was to be THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE OR ELSE!!!11!!! If I am dying for a trance experience and want one on command, I can do one of two things:
a) Attend a sweat lodge because for me, it's going to happen there as . . .that's what it's designed to do.
b) Go to a goth club, drink three shots of tequila or goldschlagger and start dancing. I will feel the booze burning in my blood and if I dance until I get to the woozy is this a good idea or bad idea, who cares keep dancing, it will happen.

* Otherwise, it happens for me when it happens for me. I don't have to plan for it, it's usually when I push myself as far as I can go and then push myself just a little further. This tends to happen for me when: massively housefraus'ing, dancing, parties at my house, drinking just slightly past my comfort zone, cons, and festivals. I enjoy the happy surprise aspect of it.

* Look. I know I'm supposed to be, like, above the buzz but while while I do agree with Jason that if your goal is target driven, the less buzz, the better. However, if it's just celebratory, game on, in my opinion. My practice is distinctly Hollow One, my life tends more towards Cultist of X/mermaid/nymph. So, This was really difficult as I was leaving my maidenhood which was more conducive to such practices. As a mother (not literal), I figured out:
a) It's a party when I say it's a party, bitch. Meaning, anything can be with the right attitude
b) I channeled some of the energy into creating a hearth, fashion, cooking, a magical practice, writing and crafting
c) I throw a lot of parties
d) The booze at my house is always top shelf which is a big plus
e) I need to get my buzzy ya-yas out at least quarterly or I start to get antsy and then I start looking for trouble. This is easy enough to head off. Arisia con gets my kitchen witch yayas out *and* the after parties get my CoX bits out. The Fairy Festival is all about soaking in the glamour during the day and making poor drinking (and sometimes otherwise) decisions with friends in a field in a farm in the middle of nowhere with a big bonfire.

* When I am tranced out, I can generally see into the squishy insides of people and because I'm tranced out and my filter is zero, I NEED to make these observations OUT LOUD to the person. It's a dice roll as to how that's received. It's also why I'm not tranced out for like 90% of my life.

* But generally I try to keep my trance revelations introspective so as to not alienate everyone around me (well, for that reason at least). Rabbit Heart, both the lyrics and the video describe exactly how I feel inside right now.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

I must become a lion hearted girl
Ready for a fight
Before I make the final sacrifice

We raise it up, this offering
We raise it up

I'm getting exactly what I wanted in my life and I'm becoming the person I've worked really hard to be my whole adult life, but it doesn't come for free all of these things. In the video, she's the guest of honor at this wild fairy party but, like so many of our myths, she's the one who's sacrificed at the end (v. prettily of course, which is what I too would demand, if you're going to out, go out like homegirl Ophelia) which I've sort of interpreted for my own life that yeah, I've got all the things I've wanted - home ownership, a hearth, good relationships, lots of loved ones, a blooming writing and crafting career, a blooming kitchen witch practice, love for my body, forgiveness for my past, comfort in my own skin. But it won't always be easy, I'll be plagued as I always am with self doubt, I'll have to work really hard, I'll have to make sure I can *keep* these things and I will have to fight like hell to be the person I want to be and have the life I want to life, I need to not get too bogged down by material things and be fierce with all my heart.

Before I too am floated out to sea.

Sigils and the Dilettante

Jow knows stuff. He knows all sorts of scholarly occult things and higher magic that I am generally indifferent to bother stuffing into my brain. Give up precious brain real estate occupied by GossipGirl, Toddlers & Tiaras, and gossip keeping up with my loved ones? I think not. But occasionally, I do need information that I generally can't be bothered with. Jow is a Serious Scholar, so he only has so much space for Blair and Serena. Jow reads so many books he has to get a Nook, court ordered by me and the cats so we don't die in bookalanche. Jow likes to make notes and use little post it flag thingies to annotate the books he reads . . .for fun.

So yes, I suppose I could slog through all these tomes myself when I need info I cannot readily find in my teeny tiny resource library I keep for myself in the house. Oooooooooooooor I could cross examine Jow who's already done the work.

Picking the right moment is critical. Preferably when he's not expecting it. I recommend teeth brushing time before bed.

Me: How do sigils work?

Jow (looks startled and suspicious as he always does when I express interest in a magical area as he knows this will lead to me questioning him like a bad neighbor on Judge Judy and then to use the information in ways that are not specifically approved by his authors. He tries to stall and buy time by having a mouthful of toothpaste. I am undeterred.): Well . . .there's a chaos method that uses [something about how to make words into sigils].

Me: I knew that. Weird! How did I know that!

Jow: I. . .don't know?

Me: Did we go to a lecture about it?

Jow: I don't think so?

Me: Weird! It's not like I read a whole lot on magical theory. Huh. Where did I pick that up because I knew that word for word? Did we read a book together?

Jow: Maybe?

Me: So, okay you can like use planetary sigils or geomatic sigils--

Jow: Yes.

Me: And other stuff, like angelic things or whatever --

Jow: Yes.

Me: But is this a formal thing? Or can you make up your own symbology?

Jow (looks suspious as to what I need this information for): Yes. There's a long history of people making up their own sigils--

Me: Awesome. Thanks.

Jow: Why?

Me: No reason.


I had previously more or less ignored sigil work because it wasn't fitting anywhere into my practice really until I went to Arisia with Miss Spice who taught me a really need trick!

Super Easy Secret Sigil Work for Anything

Items needed:
1 eyeshadow brush
1 bottle hand sanitizer (they even make them super teeny)
Knowledge of some kind of sigil system or your imagination

Contemplate what you are trying to accomplish. For me, I generally want people to like me and thinking I'm charming (Venus) but um not like me too much (protection sigil). If you are feeling especially creative, thinking about where would be good places to place these sigils. I keep it simple by putting them on the inside of my wrists, but you may be the creative type. In which case, maybe over the root chakra to get laid and protective sigils on your back so your back is being watched.

Squirt a teeny tiny amount of hand sanitizer onto your eyeshadow brush. If you don't like the idea of using an eyeshadow brush, get a tiny paint brush. I just happen to reliably have an eyeshadow brush on me at any given time typically, as does Miss Spice so it's functional for us.

Concentrate on what you're trying to accomplish, feel free to say some kind of chant or spell or psalm or whatever gets you off. I personally just focus and concentrate and then I draw the sigils on the inside of my wrists. Hand sanitizer feels cold and shows in a clear gel on your skin for a few moments so it's a good way to actualize whatever you're trying to do. I couldn't remember what planet to use for protection and had no idea what book to find it in (Jow made me a cheat sheet today because he's cool like that) so I decided to draw a set of brass knuckles on one of my wrists which worked perfectly. Because it's hand santizer and clear, it dries and no one can see it after a minute or two but you know it's there. Bonus! Clean eyeshadow brush.

Material Occult Girl

Gather around, kiddies. It's Dark Secret time. So, as you all know, I'm from Jersey, born and bred. Knowing this, you must know that there's only so much I can help about my True Nature. I mean, even the most well heeled of us is known to flip a table on tv now and again. Besides this, we're a state full of bling wearing, name brand buying, prostitution whores.

Now, if you like, I can couch this in occultism. All of the girls I run with are crowgirls whether they know it or not. Me, personally? I know it. I have a very serious shamanic relationship with Crow. But us as an Amazon Crow Girl Pack? Dangling secrets and shinies in front of us is honestly honestly the quickest way to get us to flip a table to get to it. We just can't help ourselves. I have a way of getting people to spill their secrets to me faster than a freshman spilling out the contents of their stomachs on frat row. In fact, I was told by one of my pagan elder mentors (PEM), it's an ability that borders on dangerous. Knowing that, I have taken pains to try to keep a lid on this ability as much as possible for the most part*. Sometimes, strangers will randomly tell me things that still manage to shock me.

Additionally, as we've discussed, a lot of my glamoury/shielding comes from clothing, make up, and jewelry like a proper vain Jersey Crowgirl.

So . . .if you take all of these things and put them together it's about a perfect storm.

Ready? Juicy. Couture. Hamsa. Necklace.

Say it again with me now! Juicy! Couture! Hamsa! Necklace!

OMFG!

Name Brand Whoring + pew pew pew! + glamoury + shielding + omfg shiny = me, practically peeing myself in a state of desperate lust.

Luckily, my bf J. (I have a thing with the letter J in SOs), recognizes this state of feverish excitement and kindly made a donation towards the purchase.

Just . . .look at it in all it's shiny, shiny, pseudo-Kabbalah glory. How could I not desperately want one? What's funny is, I was actually looking for one. My PEM has a trick where she wears one on a necklace on her back so her back is always watched and I used to do it as a baby pagan but then I got lazy and distracted by not really giving a shit about shielding for um like the last five years (calm down, I've been working on it and a flesh eating demon hasn't gotten at me yet), so I was looking to start doing it again.

Isn't it goooooooooooooooooooooorgeous?

* - Except, you know, when I'm trying to pump someone for information for my own ends. But! If I am told it is a secret and not to leave my lips, that's an oath that I take more seriously than pretty much anything in the world.

Just as Long as We're Together: Amazon Rites NJ Style

"Women go there to dance. They get all ready in the mirror with their friends. They're like, 'I just need to go. I just need to dance. I'm serious, tonight -- no guys. Screw guys. I just need to -- I've had a rough week, and I just need to dance it out. I just want to stand in a circle around our pocketbooks and shoes and just -- I just want to dance. Dance!'" - Dane Cook

"Girls love 80s parties. I could tell them that Osama bin Laden was holding a party, and they’d refuse to attend. But if I told them Osama bin Laden was holding an 80s party, they’d be like, '. . .well, what time?’” - Nick Swardson

"They always come home the same way. They stumble in with their high heels in their hands. *Whoo-whoo!* *Whoo-whoo*! 'Where were you?' 'I was with my girlfriends.' 'I know that. It's 3:30 in the morning.'" - Jo Koy

When I was a younger amazon, we used to go to this restaurant/club in New Brunswick called Gaebel's all the time. They would push back all the tables later at night and there would be a dj spinning vinyl. I was all full of piss and vinegar and tequila those nights, wearing a mini, belly top, and stompy boots. My hair would be up in pigtails and I would be smeared in sweat and glitter, and whenever Hypnotize came on, the whole entire room would go *ballistic* and it was just such an awesome feeling of being young and badass.

Gaebel's closed about four years ago. Hypnotize came on the radio on Friday when I was coming home from a very long all day meeting in Princeton. I was wearing corporate clothes with a silk scarf and was pretty sure I would never again dance to Hypnotize and more sure my life was over.

As a younger Amazon, I used to dress with more intent. Clothes, makeup, jewelry, all of that helped me present the image I wanted to present for whatever I was doing. It was my warpaint, my sword, my shield, my poison cup. Somewhere, during the divorce last year, I lost this piece of myself.

I wouldn't credit Wasband with having that much power that it was solely the soul crushing process of being divorced that did this to me. I knew right before 30, I was transitioning. As a Dianic, I do believe in the maid/mother/crone three, as much as supersrs occultists wrinkle their noses at it. Here's the thing - being a sexual virgin doesn't make you a maid, having kids doesn't make you a mother, your period stopping doesn't make you a crone. Not in and of itself at least. Being free and in charge of yourself makes you a maid, giving birth to *something* and being changed by it, be it yourself, a creative project, your hearth, or your career makes you a mother, and the wisdom you gain from all your life experiences and seeing the end of your own life and out the other side makes you a crone. There are other things too and I could and probably should elaborate further on all of this and my own life experiences involving these things in a later entry.

But I knew I was coming to the end of my maidenhood. At first, it was pretty awesome. My 30th birthday, surrounded by friends in dresses and ties, all of us singing, eating caviar and pizza and drinking champagne until we all were more than just a little tipsy. Buckling down on my writing. Getting my
finances under control. Getting rid of 100 contractor bags full of old fetters. Getting a hearth of my own. Getting my clitoral hood pierced, posed in Sheila-Na-Gig position, uttering a primal amazon scream and one of my amazon sisters getting me ice cream after for going through the ordeal.

And then . . .I sort of faltered. All of the clothes I would wear as soon as I could wiggle out of work are now neatly stored under my bed, only to be taken out for special occasions - conventions and the rare club night. I was becoming a mother, a hearth woman in my own right but what did it mean? Who am I? It may sound trivial to some of you, but I believe in what Catherynne M. Valente said in her Fairyland story, "'We must dress well, or the future will not take us seriously', Goodbye had said." How I dress reflects a big part of who I am. And in that respect, I have been floundering for over a year. What do I want to wear to work? Or out to dinner? That's much more of my life now than late nights.

I had lost the joy and the magical purpose I had with dressing with intent. Recently, I had just gotten it back. New clothes, new makeup, new hair. It all goes a long way. Jow was supposed to go out with myself and my "mind sisters"* as he calls them but he bailed. Long story short, we fucked up the date for where we were supposed to go and went to the Breakfast Club instead.

But! Before that, I dressed with intent. Black and grey kilt, knee socks with little buttons, a ruffled keyhole top. Make up on, hair did. Then I decided to use some Come to Me oil, Bad Ass oil, and BPAL's CENTZON TOTOCHTIN on various bits of me. I then used Miss Spice's trick of using an eyeshadow brush and hand sanitizer to draw appropriate sigils on me for the evening. Purely for . . .research of course. Not for any selfish tail fluffing** purposes, of course.

It had been a long while since I had been at a club, I forgot the smell - sticky with bleach and beer. I had also forgotten that the Breakfast Club is Amazon territory with a *ridiculous* female to male ratio. I quickly dove into the experience of amazoning it up with my mind sisters.

Step 1: Arrive a little early so that the music is not crazy loud to be able to talk shit about Baby Amazon Rites which include: The Tragedy of Wearing Really High Heels, Two Drink Lesbian Dancing to Attract Male Attention for Later, Dancing on High Surfaces to be Better Seen by Males, Drinking a Literal Fishbowl of a Candy Colored Melage of Booze Too Many to Better Make Poor Decisions Later, and Take a Million Pictures to Document this for Facebook or My Experience Never Happened. As an older Amazon partaking in Older Amazon Rites (though not yet partaking in Elder Amazon Rites), key phrases to employ include: OMG, I thought going to a club was supposed to be about slinking in the dark and escaping not seeking out the faux paparazzi, Why is she crying, it's only 11:30, Those shoes are ridiculous, If I see anymore Two Drink Lesbian Dancing, I'm going to throw up in my own mouth.

Step 2: Critique the dj. It's your right! You've got ten years of club experience under your belt, Older Amazon! And if he's particularly heinous, even better! Key comments: His mashups suck, there should *never* be any dead air time, He only plays half a song before moving on which is ridonkulous, and He has the rhythm of an epileptic monkey.

Step 3: Drink! You know how to not vomit in the parking lot on your new shoes, Older Amazon! You can stick to beer or shots or a signature drink. Feel free to make one questionable judgement call in the form of $2 Jaegar shots.

Step 4: Dance! You're not here to impress anyone, you're here to be with each other! And this DJ while often questionable, knows his audience which is you! He's going to play all the songs *you* like so you don't riot! And that fucking includes HYPNOTIZE! Get crazy! Bust out your moves! Howl along to Gloria, Material Girl, and other riot girl songs with the other Amazons so that the club is filled with your voices! Trance out to it! Get into the magic that is song, as that guy Jason talked about. Get totes into that Amazon egregor and when Welcome to the Jungle comes on, your whole Amazon cabal will let out a primal scream like you have never heard! It's awesome!

Step 5: Uh-oh. You know the baby amazons are going to be trouble. They won't be able to contain themselves from offending Older Amazons by spilling their drinks on you and nearly falling on top of you from their higher perches. Suggest getting into a fist fight with the ones particularly bothersome to you personally to your cabal to prove your cabal's dominance. This is super awesome! Because (a) you get to feel BadAss and (b) you're Older Amazons! That means you have sense! Your cabal will say no!

Step 6: Well, Older Amazon, you're not a Baby Amazon anymore. That means by 12:30a, you are covered in a sheen of sweat and gently swaying and mouthing the words at this point. Disadvantage: Man, getting older suxxors. Advantage: You know who you're waking up with in the morning, unlike the Baby Amazons.

Step 7: In the car ride home, you can regale each other with your shared Baby Amazon Legendary Stories of all the stupid shit you somehow managed to not only live through but look hot and be bad assed! Laugh it up! It's your Goddess given right!

Step 8: Time for traditional feasting. Your old diner now sucks ass and is closed at midnight during the weekend which can bring you back to Step 7 for a quick round of The Scene is Never What it Used to Be, but you can find a crappy lesser diner to eat at. And! You get the perk of bitching about how bad it is! Eat: burgers, cokes, fries, gravy, and taylor ham on a hard roll.

Step 9: Home by 2:30a, asleep by 3:30a. Feel smug that you still have it.

Step 10: Sunday? Be a useless slag, Older Amazon! Take some tylenol, drink lots of water, eat some salty food and fuck around on the internet or tv all day. Because likely, that's about all you can manage. If you're like me and already auto-immune depressed (I have fibromyalgia) or have some other kind of nebulous stinky cat syndrome/getting older issue, good job killer! You just earned yourself a fibro day! Now you're double entitled to not cook dinner and get chinese.

* Because of those Hills-esque intense moments we have when we all stare at each other for a minute and *ping* each other and have a complete conversation without saying a word. We used to do that when we played Mage and had a mind network up, but I'm told it's scarier in real life. When we would game, we would point to each other and say *ping* and say out loud what we're beaming into each other's minds verses in real life when no words are actually said. ;p

** To fluff one's tail like a peacock due to external stranger validation given based on your appearance.