Me the witch

A very good friend of mine just showed me a picture of her ex husband. An ex husband who is a very pretty man. And an ex husband whom I know. Also an ex husband who has always liked my goth look, which was happening about 2 years ago. And because he is still on good terms with his ex wife, he's let the cat out of the bag and told her how much he loved my witch, goth look. I remember he used to remark how much he loved my look. Because yes, although it's hard to even imagine, I looked like a witch. A good witch, but a witch nonetheless. I had all the paraphernalia, excluding the broom. Because the witch look is very glamorous, but once you put the broom into the picture you ruin it all. So I had the perfect white face canvas, the smoky eyes, the black hair, the black nail polish, the black black black clothing, the big, unable-to-go-unnoticed jewellery, the black patent leather high heels.. oh and the perfect white cleavage. I used to walk in constant dangling jewellery. People would hear me come long before actually making a sighting. Seeing me now, it's so hard to believe. But it's not hard to me because I still have all the paraphernalia hidden away somewhere. And I remember the extreme power trip it gave me. Yes I got plenty of stares, not because of my big frame which wasn't as big then as it is now, but because of the extremely high maintenance witch look. I never did it on purpose. It just happened one day when I decided to go mayhem with cosmetics, clothing, jewellery hair and shoes. In less than an hour I was transformed, and it looked so good that it stayed for a couple of years. But it *is* high maintenance and time consuming. And before you think that I had the classic mole on my face, no, I wasn't like that at all. I was one hell of a pretty and hot witch. More like a hot fairy godmother turned sexily gothic. Of course my mum wasn't very impressed which meant that it was a good thing. My dad thought I'd gone nuts. And I... I was so comfortable in this skin. And I got plenty of attention that I wasn't looking for. I don't know why this look of mine died a natural death. Probably because I wasn't sure I could pull it during the daytime, and probably because I started loving sleeping too. And also probably, because I could never find a broom looking good enough to complete the picture. But I still looked like a witch and pretty much felt like one. Back then, the world was at my feet, I wasn't scared to go out there and make my statement. Not so now. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to go witchlike again, slowly but steadily. Because there's still a witch inside me.