Diary of a Geriatric Scarlet: November 14, 2050

I endeavor to wear a bird upon my head.

At my wrinkled age, the danger is looking like I'm impersonating a hedgewitch. And I am not (yet) a hedgewitch. In case you are unfamiliar, a hedgewitch can cast magic spells of course, but her attitude and fashion sense is far more decorative than your average basic witch.

I aspire to become a hedgewitch when I finally reach adulthood, maybe when I turn 100. Much study is of course required to properly deploy magic. And some redecoration, including the installation of alters and incense, may be required. In New York City, this means building permits, and so you understand my procrastination.

Another of my considerations when reflecting upon a hedgewitch career path are the skirts. In theory, I adore a frayed and unruly skirt layering many patterns and textures and fabrics. But in practice, I find them frumpy and unattractive. One must perhaps have a build like a Tim Burton lady stick to pull off such wear.

Also there is another matter: hedgewitches are jolly. I am not jolly.