The Alluring Beauty of Enigmatic Witch Brooches

Enigmatic witch brooches have always held a mysterious and captivating allure. These small, decorative pins are often worn as accessories, adding a touch of enchantment and mystique to any outfit. The brooches typically feature a witch or witch-related motifs such as a cauldron, broomstick, or black cat. One of the reasons why enigmatic witch brooches have gained popularity is their association with magic and the occult. The witch has long been a prominent figure in folklore and mythology, representing power, wisdom, and independence. By wearing a witch brooch, one can tap into these symbolic qualities and feel connected to the mystical world.

This was the case with “aquiline” or "hooked" noses, which were used to depict both Jews and witches, Vi explains. “This nose, which has been found to be a more broadly Mediterranean trait, was something that was used to signify differences between Jews living in Western or Eastern Europe and their non-Jewish neighbors who wouldn't have had that Mediterranean ancestry,” she says.

Even more recently, the witch has entered the Zeitgeist as a figure akin to the so-called nasty woman, who in the face of a Presidential Administration that is quick to cast any criticism as a witch hunt has reclaimed the term for the feminist resistance. Like green skin, this is another example of how the 1939 film version of The Wizard of Oz solidified the stereotypical image of a witch a wart sprouting horse hairs was built into Hamilton s prosthetic chin.

By wearing a witch brooch, one can tap into these symbolic qualities and feel connected to the mystical world. Moreover, enigmatic witch brooches serve as a reminder of the beauty and strength that can be found in embracing one's true self. Just as witches are often depicted as unconventional and unconventional women, wearing a witch brooch can be a form of self-expression and a celebration of individuality.

The Many Faces of Women Who Identify as Witches

My first encounter with the figure of a witch in popular culture—apart from those in kids’ movies like Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty” and M-G-M’s “The Wizard of Oz,” or in books like Tomie dePaola’s “Strega Nona” and Roald Dahl’s “The Witches”—was in a campy scene from Oliver Stone’s 1991 bio-pic, “The Doors,” depicting Jim Morrison (played by Val Kilmer) and one of his lovers, a Wiccan witch (a character played by Kathleen Quinlan, and based on the rock journalist Patricia Kennealy, who reportedly married the singer in a Celtic handfasting ceremony, in 1970). In the flickering light of dozens of candles barely illuminating a high-ceilinged chamber, the two peruse an esoteric sorcery tract in the nude, snort cocaine, slit their wrists with a dagger, drink each other’s blood, and have wild sex to the shrieking strains of Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana.”

More than a quarter century later, the often paradoxical grab bag of clichés tied to the contemporary figure of the witch is not that far off, I think, from those shown in Stone’s movie. The witch is often understood as a mishmash of sometimes contradictory clichés: sexually forthright but psychologically mysterious; threatening and haggish but irresistibly seductive; a kooky believer in cultish mumbo-jumbo and a canny she-devil; a sophisticated holder of arcane spiritual knowledge and a corporeal being who is no thought and all instinct. Even more recently, the witch has entered the Zeitgeist as a figure akin to the so-called nasty woman, who—in the face of a Presidential Administration that is quick to cast any criticism as a “witch hunt”—has reclaimed the term for the feminist resistance. (This latter-day witchiness has often been corralled to commercial ends: an Urban Outfitters shirt bearing the words “Boss Ass Witch,” say, or the women-only co-working space the Wing referring to itself as a “coven.”) The muddled stereotypes that surround witches nowadays are, in the end, not so very different from those used to define that perennial problem: woman.

In her portrait series “Major Arcana: Witches in America,” which will be shown at the ClampArt gallery, in Chelsea, beginning October 4th, the photographer Frances F. Denny seeks to explore the figure of the contemporary witch beyond the cultural chestnuts that have shrouded and obscured it. In the course of the past two years, Denny, who holds an M.F.A. in photography from the Rhode Island School of Design (where I taught her for a semester a number of years ago), has travelled in California, Louisiana, and along the East Coast, taking the portraits of dozens of women who identify as witches. Her subjects are of diverse age, social class, and ethnicity, and practice a range of rituals, often drawing on “mysticism, engagement with the occult, politically oriented activism, polytheism, ritualized ‘spell-work’ and plant-based healing,” according to Denny’s exhibition notes. Among them are “self-proclaimed green witches, white witches, kitchen witches, hedge witches, and sex witches.” The series as a whole aims to avoid easy formulas and, instead, to exhibit the heterogeneity and individuality of modern-day witches, Denny told me recently, adding, “I’m not pinning these women down.”

In one photograph—“Randy (Plainfield, VT)”—a grandmotherly woman is standing in a lush green meadow, wearing a flower-sprigged sack dress, her hair arranged a bit girlishly in tousled white ringlets. In one hand she casually clasps a pair of divining rods, while in the other she holds up a pendulum, her gaze raised toward it, her lips upturned in a slight, self-possessed smile. In another—“Kir (Brooklyn, NY)”—a young, lithe woman is dressed in tight black jeans and a tank top, her booted feet planted firmly on a city street, a large, inquisitive-looking tabby cat on a leash at her side. And in “Shine (New York, NY),” a statuesque black woman, posed against a wall of ivy, is dressed in an elaborately embroidered coat, gazing piercingly at the camera. These subjects are all self-identified witches, and yet that fact would not be immediately or necessarily obvious to the uninformed viewer. When she first started the project, Denny read a book by Margot Adler about witches, in which the late journalist and Wiccan priestess argued that “witch” was not just a word but “a cluster of powerful images,” Denny said. “So I thought, I want to make this cluster of images.”

Denny asked the women she photographed for the series to wear an outfit or bring along an item that they felt would represent their practice and identity as witches, and some of the portraits do answer more readily to our expectations of what a witch might look like. More than one woman wears a voluminous cape; some subjects’ fingers are crowded with ornate, sculptural rings, and others’ makeup is goth-y and exaggerated—lips crimson, eyes dramatically shaded. They brandish mysterious implements—a crystal ball, a bow and arrow, a wooden staff; one woman reclines, entwined with a snake—and most are dressed in black. Still, Denny said, it was important for her to make portraits that diverge from the ways she had seen witches typically photographed. “In what I saw out there, there was a lot of low lighting, and a lot of use of colored gels, usually purple or green. There was an immense theatricality,” she told me. In her photographs, Denny used natural light whenever possible, and the women are posed straightforwardly, facing the camera. Like other portraitists, such as the contemporary Dutch photographer Rineke Dijkstra, or the twentieth-century German master August Sander, Denny captures her subjects suspended delicately between performativity and naturalism. These self-identified witches are positioning themselves before us, fully conscious of our eye, and Denny is allowing them a lovely three-dimensionality.

The enigmatic nature of these brooches adds to their allure. The intricate details and craftsmanship often found in these accessories make them intriguing and captivating to look at. They can also spark curiosity and serve as conversation starters, opening the door to discussions about magic, folklore, and the supernatural. In addition to their symbolic and aesthetic appeal, enigmatic witch brooches also hold sentimental value for many people. For those who identify as witches or practitioners of modern witchcraft, wearing a brooch featuring a witch symbol can be a way to connect with one's spiritual beliefs and establish a sense of belonging to a community. In conclusion, enigmatic witch brooches are captivating accessories that hold a mystical allure. With their intricate designs and connection to magic and the occult, these brooches serve as symbolic reminders of strength, independence, and self-expression. Whether worn as an accessory or valued as a sentimental item, these brooches have a lasting impact on both the wearer and those who encounter them..

Reviews for "The Evolution of Witch Brooches: From Medieval Times to Modern Fashion"

- Sarah - 2 stars - I was really disappointed with the enigmatic witch brooches. The design was not as intricate and detailed as it appeared in the pictures. The colors were also not as vibrant, giving the brooch a cheap and dull look. Additionally, the clasp on the back was not secure, and the brooch kept falling off my clothes. Overall, it felt like a waste of money and I would not recommend it.

- Michael - 1 star - The enigmatic witch brooch I received was of poor quality. The metal was flimsy and easily bent, and the paint started chipping off after only a few days of wearing it. The brooch was also much smaller than expected, making it difficult to see the details. It definitely did not live up to my expectations and I regret purchasing it.

- Emily - 2 stars - I had high hopes for the enigmatic witch brooch, but the actual product was quite disappointing. The brooch looked much bigger and more detailed in the pictures, but in reality, it was small and lacked intricate features. The clasp was also difficult to open and close, making it a hassle to put it on and take it off. In my opinion, it was not worth the price.

Witch Brooches: A Fashion Statement with a Mysterious Touch