When I was younger I always wanted to be a witch. With a pink tutu. Who says witches can't wear pink tutu's? I wore a pointy hat with tutu head held high!

Being a witch wasn't a popular choice at the time. You might've guessed it: the word princess was labeled on every girl (and so now and then boy). Being a witch meant that you were scoffed at by other children, because you weren't up there in their castle (instead you were flying all over the world on a broomstick, making poisons and putting spells on them, little did they know). But I didn't mind it much, too busy being a witch you see.



My parents have always encouraged me to be whatever I please to be. However at times it's hard to be whatever you please to be (and not just because of scoffing princesses, I've dealt with them the simple way. Witchcraft, my dear Watson). Whenever I need to keep it cool and act as if I know what I'm doing -which I'm clearly not- I always look back at my days as a witch and pout (pouting helps).


I think there's a witch wearing a pink tutu in all of us. It's the pink icing on an all black birthday cake saying 'Well fuck it'. And 'fuck it' it will be, because -although I'm still in my infant years of becoming an all knowing all pointy hatted goddess- if there's one thing I've learned: nobody cares about your tutu and those who do care are just imbeciles. I mean, tutu's are -if you mind my language- fucking amazing! To quote Bernard M. Baruch:


And in worst case scenario, always keep a spell or poison brewing in your kettle. Just saying.

Love,
Dominique