Forget Hot Girl Summer, This Summer, Let’s All Be Witches

By Laura Wheatman Hill | July 5, 2022
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The Hocus Pocus 2 trailer dropped and our reproductive rights have been taken away, so now it’s official: forget “hot girl summer,” this year I’m having the summer of the witch. I’m not going tanning, taking a “bikini body bootcamp” class, or paying for a trip to Cabo (who can afford it with inflation, amirite?). No—this summer, I’m embracing my inner magic witchy nightmare girl. This summer, I’m becoming a witch. 

As an actor, I learned that you can create a character either inside-out (how does the character think?) or outside-in (how does the character look?). I’m going outside-in. Famous witch Daniel Day Lewis (The Crucible) would often wear his character’s clothes all the time to help him get into the character’s headspace. Since I fell off my hairdresser’s schedule due to having no childcare in the summer (thanks, again, America), my hair is getting wire-like and gray. My wise friend told me that since she was in a similar situation and gave up dying her curly locks, letting it assume its natural white, she has only grown more powerful, so I have decided to do the same.

Does it even need to be said that we are no longer bothering with body hair removal? Unless there’s a heat wave, of course. Or if you don’t like it. And while skin care is a must, makeup is purely optional. Hard pants are banned forever. No exceptions.

While your witch-forward fashion icon might skew more Fairuza Balk in The Craft, I take my 90s inspiration from Practical Magic. I don’t go for Sandra Bullock’s tragic beauty, though, and certainly do not emulate “hang onto your husbands, girls,” top-of-her-sexual-prime Nicole Kidman, either. I don’t even want to be sweet-as-pie Dianne Wiest. I’m going full Stockard Channing. Give me a thick smokey eye made from the ashes of the patriarchy and big floppy hat. Let my hair curl with the salty sea air and let me wear my full Victorian garb as I tend to my voluptuous garden. I will more likely utter a chesty tequila-laden curse than a compliment any day.

Now to the witchy behaviors. Did you know that crows are very social and smart creatures? I’ve started leaving trinkets for the crows in my neighborhood—shiny objects—so they are attuned to me and will do my bidding, Moira Rose-style, when the time comes. I have a couple neighbors who I think might not like me and I have some ideas of how the crows can help my cause. Don’t worry about it. Nothing illegal. 

May I also suggest you stop speaking to the cats that frequent your doorstep in such an infantilizing way? Give them the respect they deserve and carry on a normal conversation with them. Soon they will become your familiars and can sneak into all sorts of places you cannot and tell you secrets. 

Call up your “hot girl crew” and form a coven. Instead of a traditional book club, learn some basic spells. Dance naked under the full moon to your Spotify Witchy Woman playlist (mostly Stevie Nicks) and howl with the urban coyotes that live in the woods nearby. You’d be surprised how freeing it is. 

You don’t need to give up men altogether. If, like me, you are cursed with wretched heterosexuality, you can still date, love even, but guard your heart, precious witches, and keep a non-digitized journal recording your moon sickness dates. If you do get possessed by an ex or deceased lover, be stocked and ready for an exorcism or at least an emergency appointment with your therapist or astrologer. 

I know there was some talk of Golden Girls summer, and respect to those ladies, but it’s not enough, holy ghost of Bea Arthur, and times have changed. In order to enact some real change around here, we need to get our sexy boooooook (spoken in Bette Midler’s voice from Hocus Pocus), consult your tarot cards, and start hexing. Also please make sure you’re registered to vote and it wouldn’t hurt to call up or write your representative. Curses optional on that one. 

Take care out there, witchy wonders.

Image: Laura Herrera / Stocksy.com

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