HTSI: Hocus focus: the witch guide to autumn 2024
It was a wintry evening in February when guests gathered at St Michael’s and All Angels, a magnificent Gothic church in Shoreditch, to witness the AW24 collection by Turkish designer Dilara Findikoglu. The show opened with model and actress Hari Nef vamping up the catwalk in a bodice, pinstripe skirt and latex opera gloves. It continued with a procession of laced-up leather trousers, corsetry and bags, and closed with a look titled “Waking of the Witch”, for which the model Aweng Chuol wore a jet dress made of “silicone tar”.
“This divine energy is feminine to me,” says Findikoglu of the show’s witchy inspiration. “I am creating a world where toxic masculinity does not exist.” Having grown up in a conservative Muslim family in Istanbul, she defined her aesthetic when she moved to London to study at Central Saint Martins, discovering a love for the esoteric and the spiritual. Through her designs, which have been worn by Madonna, Bella Hadid and Cardi B, she wants to expand the definition of a witch. “Witchcraft is in our nature. For me, it’s not about negativity. I am using darkness to lighten the world.”
If 2023 was the Year of the Doll – thanks largely to the candy-coloured success of Barbie – this autumn promises to be the Season of the Witch. Rick Owens, Thom Browne and Simone Rocha (a long-time witch enthusiast) have also conjured the theme. Kate and Laura Mulleavy of Rodarte turned to the fantasy world of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe for their ethereal AW24 collection of black sequinned column gowns, Victorian-inspired dresses and delicate tulle creations, and also recently released a capsule collection inspired by Beetlejuice. Having grown up on a diet of ’60s and ’70s cult films like The Love Witch, Black Sunday and the filmography of Italian horror maestro Dario Argento, the Mulleavy sisters have always found inspiration in the gothic. “We love stories that are about reclaiming narratives about women and subverting the status quo.”
There’s a rich brew of darker fare in pop culture too. Last month saw Kathryn Hahn reprise her role as Agatha Harkness, the witchy nemesis of Elizabeth Olsen’s Scarlet Witch (from the acclaimed Marvel show Wandavision) in Agatha All Along on Disney Plus. HBO’s Dune Prophecy, a prequel to the recent Dune films, will debut next month, documenting the origins of the Bene Gesserit, the ruthless mind-reading matriarchal order of the Empire. On the big screen, the much-awaited adaptation of the smash musical Wicked will see Ariana Grande as Glinda the Good Witch and Cynthia Erivo going green as Elphaba. Consider too the news that Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock are reuniting to play witchy sisters in Practical Magic 2.
“Witches in the media always reflect our fears and fantasies about feminine power,” says Pam Grossman, author and host of the popular The Witch Wave podcast. “Pop-culture witches are a mirror, revealing how comfortable we are with anyone who resists, transgresses or rebels against patriarchal ideals. I appreciate how they are complex, nuanced and even aspirational at times. It shows that our collective relationship with feminine power is evolving, and that these types of images are becoming more readily embraced.”
Witchcraft is in the ascendant, particularly among millennials and Gen Z –the generation that has, after all, grown up with Harry Potter. The hashtag #witchtok has garnered more than 45 billion views on TikTok and you can find covens of witch influencers now performing spells on social media. Star of this year’s Eurovision Song Contest was the non-binary Irish singer Bambie Ray Robinson, who performed as Bambie Thug for Ireland. They became a fan favourite as they donned devil horns and danced in the middle of a pentagram, surrounded by burning candles.
“For me, all non-binary and trans people are witches – we’re magic and mystical,” says Robinson. “We have always been seen as outsiders.” Robinson grew up in the Irish countryside, steeped in the lore of stone circles and faerie rings, before moving to London and connecting with a group of older witches. “There is an element of escapism to it,” says Robinson. “Witchcraft is about trying to find beauty in a world so devoid of it.” They add that their practice is all about “good intentions”.
In the art world, the lush dreamscapes of Tali Lennox are dense with symbolism, mythology and folklore. The erupting volcanoes and spooky forests depicted in her recent show Tremors, at Nicodim Gallery in LA, were inspired by time she spent in the caves of Kefalonia last summer.
“I was brought back to the vision of humans morphing with nature, where the elements combine and the natural world continues to beautifully rotate and evolve,” says Lennox, the daughter of pop star Annie Lennox. The first time she saw her mother perform was, she says, akin to witnessing a woman channelling something otherworldly. “It was as if another spirit and force was moving through her. In moments of experiencing artistic expression, the concept of magic doesn’t feel so fantastical.”
The witch has often been political too. Many self-styled witches joined the 2017 Women’s March in protest at Trump’s election, prompting the singer Lana del Rey to tweet that she was casting a spell to get rid of Trump in office. Sometimes this seems to work. In 1968, on Halloween, a group of radical feminists called Women’s International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell (WITCH) descended on Wall Street dressed in black hats and robes, placing a hex on New York’s financial district. The Dow Jones fell sharply the next day.
