Legend of the Witches (1970)
Occultism has piqued public interest during moments of social crisis and cultural confusion. During the late 19th century, before the American Civil War, millions of Americans became active participants of Spiritualism. In the early 20th century, there was an occult revival in Russia as a response to the diminishing plausibility of the Russian Orthodox Church. And at the helm of second-wave feminism and the Vietnam War, witchcraft and satanism thrived in a torn America.
Witchcraft, specifically, has seen the rise and fall of its collective interest in cyclical nature, one that’s arrived every 20 years following American hysteria in the mid 20th century. More often than not, patterns of magical practices align neatly with the evolving perceptions of women’s roles in society and feminist thoughts.
The underground re-emergence of occult intrigue in the 1970s paralleled the resurgence of feminism. As the tendrils of witchcraft trickled back into the mainstream narrative, the witch became a supreme feminist role-model, exuding independence and inner strength, encouraging equal rights movements.
The attempts to understand magic and occultism offered a means of control to those without financial freedom and social or political influence, much like oppressed women.
As the Reagan era introduced economic growth, the seventies spirit of radical social change dwindled. People became comfortable and, for a while, left the witch-craze resting in the shadows.
Some two decades later, magic permeated 1990s popular culture with TV shows and films like Charmed, Practical Magic, The Craft and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. These paganistic productions personified witches as self-ruling women emanating power, never to be underestimated by their unaware male counterparts.
Perhaps it was a sense of mass disillusionment in the nineties that called for a supernaturally-charged counterculture. Whatever the reason, these subversive plots showed a new generation how to harness the power within.
Considering the way witchcraft was introduced to millennial women dovetailed with their liberal interests, the exponential rise in the witch aesthetic makes complete sense.
Sarah Bailey and Sabrina Spellman, amongst other teen witch heroines, made it enticing to embrace individuality. They displayed qualities of the everyday teen, making their world behind the screen seem within arm’s reach. It was that relatability that gently reintroduced the occult as a safe space for anyone.
The nineties witch imprinted on so many, a barely-noticeable, canny and sophisticated inner-power. Over time, those witch-like inclinations never entirely abandoned anyone.
Millennials––and Gen Zers––with magical foundations and who are already deep into new-age spirituality and exercise mindful practices, like manifestation and yoga, are more likely to explore the roots of witchcraft further.
Stepping into the world of the occult hardly strikes modern mystics as inherently evil, but instead as an avenue pushing them to thrive magically.
The fashion, wellness and beauty industries have done remarkable jobs of exploiting the appeal of eternal youth, beauty and sex embodied by a witch. These industries, along with social media, aided in normalizing the craft, making it more accessible and easy to trust.
For left-leaning young millennials raised on a steady diet of Casper, Matilda and Harry Potter, occult spirituality is a metaphysical allowance of energy helping them pay the price to endure the Trump-era.
Feeling impotent and disheartened one sorry headline at a time, women have once again turned to occultism as a way to conjure up a new kind of power. It’s likely feeling helpless transported women back to the first place they found strength: witchcraft.
This new-age witch movement is creating an inclusive and inviting space--which has a power of its own--that completely defies race and gender. It is a spiritual statement that is fully adopted by those who are disillusioned and fed up with such a suffocating political climate.
It’s no wonder an increasing number of millennials are incessantly traversing occult shops in hopes of finding relief in a deck of tarot cards. There is an aura of certainty and ability born out of practicing magic that organized religion might not instantly provide. Holding séances and hexing aggressors has become a sort of supernatural technology that exercises an advanced form of self care.
More and more progressive millennials are identifying with witchcraft, delivering occult practices as a marker of power in a society feeling absent of honesty and integrity. Again, this practice is handled by those on the fringes of society, demanding equality from unjust systems.
Witches of today are progressive, regularly making grandiose environmental, political, social and spiritual statements. Millennials have repurposed the archetype of the witch as a (still feminist) icon of diversity, inclusivity and inner power.
Witchcraft is no longer limited to women or even to those who practice Wicca or paganism. Served in an all-you-can-eat style, many come and help themselves to as much or as little as they like, no strings attached.
Yet, even as these beliefs and practices sit comfortably atop a mountain of hashtags, spiritual occultism lives only as a prevalent niche.