[Glamour] Off the Res and Into a New Pretend Meat Suit

posted in: glamour | 15

Once Upon a Time Deb Ran Away From Home (But Just for the Summer)

In Feri Trad, there’s a lot of talk about one’s Fetch.  I have a shaky-at-best grasp on the concept of the triple soul. Probably because my talking self is so goddamned loud (yeah, we’re cussing again, welcome).  Like she never shuts up and she’s that terrible guest at the party everyone (God Self/ Primal Self) wants to suddenly need to go home or pass out drunk enough to shut the fuck up but without alcohol poisoning (yeah we’re also back to stream of conscious, pull up a seat).  So they’re silently hating her from across the room mouthing shutupshutupshutup to each other.  But she won’t, because see: Talking Self.

Okay, so Fetch.  Your Fetch needs to be fed with food that your Fetch finds delicious (shoes, booze, recreational drugs, sex, modern Irene Adler activities, chocolate cake, sushi, watching the Twilight trilogy for an entire evening, I don’t know, it’s your Fetch.  You know what crazy shit she’s into better than I do).  They’re kind of like Gremlins, I guess?  If you feed them little pellets of whatever they’re into, they’re reasonably docile.  You feed them after midnight (or not at all) and life becomes very, very real all of a sudden.  Because Fetches are also liars.  They’re pathological, if it’s any consolation so they believe it themselves.  If they feel neglected for too long, they start a full campaign.  Like, it’s no longer enough for you to be tied to the bed post by your spouse but hey you know what would be a great idea?  A ball gag with a new partner while in full shibari bondage.  You met yesterday, surely this will work out fine, right?  (Spoiler: Um, no)  Half a piece of cake?  Loser, there’s a whole fucking cake in the fridge.  You should eat it all.  It’s going to be amazing.  

My relationship with my Fetch is (quelle surprise) antagonistic, much like how I have a dysfunctional relationship with my Muse but still counsel on working with yours, even if she’s a total pain in the ass.  Left to her own devices, my Fetch resembles Aubrey Plaza’s character here:

Obvi, she should not be left unattended.  But I promised her that we would have the summer off.  You saw some of our adventures, Queen of the Night, another visit to the McKittrick, lush farmer’s markets, any place that would serve us tea and scones, a midsummer’s revel party at our house, drinking tequila and eating amazing food in the Mayan Rivera with rowdy Brits, brunch at a restaurant Justin Timberlake owns with my PEH.  But she’s greedy because she’s a Fetch, so we went to a festival. We watched star showers, revived a cult to Mary Magdalene, ate ice cream for breakfast washed down with beer. We got seduced by a rather charming, gorgeous boyinto evening cocktail parties in the woods with handmade bacon Manhattans in the woods with chandeliers and Turkish rugs and fat babies for me to hold.  When my Fetch feels underfed, she’s unbearable to live with.  Her mantra is, I need to be off my leash, I need to be off my leash.  Jared, the charming boy in question suggested it wasn’t so much needing to be off the leash as off the res.  I suspect he was right.  My leash is long enough, but I needed time to decompress from my new occupation and adult life can wear one down.

I say this with the utmost love and devotion, but I needed a little time to be away from you, Charmers.  I needed to find my voice again.  Somewhere between word-vomit, bleeding all over the internet and stark academia is where I needed to be and I needed time away to find that for myself again.

One Last Fling Before Fall Claims Us

During the summer, late one night, Jow and I came up with Vagine.  In Broad City Illana rather charmingly refers to one’s vagina as a vagine.  Somehow, this morphed into the idea of Vagine as an alter-ego. Vagine came up in the French suburbs which is like saying straight out of Compton in U.S. terms.  She went to a fancy French boarding school on a full academic scholarship, she wears little black Audrey Hepburn dresses and pearls and sunglasses when she performs.  She performs gansta feminist rap and sells t shirts that say things like Your Girlfriend Loves Vagine.

Sometimes, I freeze in life.  When things don’t go right or when I feel overwhelmed with social anxiety.  I get really in my head and it’s not even word thoughts so much as a steady shriek of terror/rage.   I was supposed to leave for the festival and Bryan got held up at work.  Hours were going by and I was starting to freak out.  Jow said, What would Vagine do?  Vagine is French, and for those of you who have been with me from the beginning will remember my fascination with French women.  When I lost my last admin job when the company closed, I read all the books about what French women would do.  So I thought about it.  Vagine would have a glass of wine, a cigarette and immerse herself in her novel with a Gallic little shrug about life is so unpredictable, non?  So I did that and once I did, I was calm for poor Bryan who had a terrible and stressful day.

You shouldn’t use your alter-ego for everything, of course.  Masks tend to get sticky and if you forget who you were then . . .Let’s just say I’ve seen it happen and it’s not pretty.  But if you build a glamorous alter-ego legend/back story for an alter-ego and name her, it can take you out of your head enough to deal with an occasional snafu.  It gives you space to play inside your own head, and if that’s not magic I don’t know what is.  Think of it as an emergency glamour strategy for yourself.

 

Eat, drink and be merry, Charmers.  For tomorrow we start the Books of the Dead.

Deborah Castellano
Deborah Castellano's book Glamour Magic: The Witchcraft Revolution to Get What You Want is available for purchase through Amazon, Llewellyn and Barnes and Noble.
Her frequently updated catalogue of published work is available on Author Central.

She writes about Glamour Magic here at Charmed, I'm Sure. Her podcast appearances are available here.

Her craft shop, The Mermaid & The Crow specializes in old-world style workshop from 100% local, sustainable sources featuring tempting small batch ritual oils and hand-spun hand-dyed yarn in luxe fibers and more!

In a previous life, Deborah founded the first Neo-Victorian/Steampunk convention, SalonCon which received rave reviews from con-goers and interviews from the New York Times and MTV.

She resides in New Jersey with her husband, Jow and their cat, Max II. She has a terrible reality television habit she can't shake and likes St. Germain liquor, record players and typewriters.  

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15 Responses

  1. That is how I’d like my funeral to go, though. I also want to go to that funeral.

  2. “life is so unpredictable, non?” … This. Perfect. 😀
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  3. You know how sometimes you read something and it perfectly captures some sentiment you’ve previously been unable to put into words? This post did that for me. Yes, YES, someone understands, someone gets it! My Fetch… oh, dear. We go through cycles of her being chained up in the basement like a crazy aunt in the 50s alternating with her brilliant escapes from captivity, followed by ridiculous antics that leave my life a near-ruin. I can feel her stirring now, and I’ve been fighting – so much to lose this time! – but part of me wants to just hand her the reins and see what happens. Wrestling with her is EXHAUSTING.

    • Oh, I’m so glad I’m not the only one who wrestles with her Fetch! It is so very exhausting because rarely are they satisfied with their portions and want to burn everything down. And, yes, that desire to just give her the reins and “whatever happens, happens!”

      But oh the aftermath is ever so much more exhausting.

      Keep fighting the good fight, sister!
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  4. I know what you mean about masks being sticky. And Fetches wanting to be off-leash (off-res!) It’s a challenging situation, especially, when I want to be more magical, and the Work wants me to be more magical — and the Fetch wants to watch YouTube videos and dance and not much else. Oh, how I’ve missed you, Deb!
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  5. Since reading this I have not been able to get the idea of a “Your Girlfriend Loves Vagine” t-shirt out of my head. I want one so bad.

    I am also rather envious that you have Vagine as your fetch. Mine is more like Jabba the Hutt.

  6. Okay.
    1) Goood for you for taking a break
    2) I miss you, I’m glad you’re back!
    3) Again about the wine BUT: I would like to know more about this Fetch business and why she’s a bit like a gremlin. I may read the Iron Pentacle (iirc there’s a chapter on it) in the bath later this evening.
    Moving on.
    I look forward to reading more. 🙂
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  7. Anyone that performs gansta feminist rap and sells t shirts that say things like Your Girlfriend Loves Vagine is ok in my book.
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  8. So… Sort of following this up (someone left a recent comment, and I went back and re-read the post). Your Fetch is kind of like your Id? The “I want, I want” aspects of The Devil and the 7 of Cups tarot cards?
    I still don’t know who mine is. Maybe she comes out when I’m drunk and she’s chatty-A-F and a giant slut? Or am I thinking of something else?

    • Yes, I would say those would be all correct aspects of Fetch. More info here: http://www.feritradition.org/grimoire/practices/practices_threesouls.htm

      Mine is loudest when she’s unfed. Then she starts having “great” ideas that will wreck me in some way because she wants that instant jolt. Mine is an experience/novelty junkie. If I can keep her fed but not overfed through empowering/exciting experiences, I do less stupid shit in my life and I eat less garbage and drink/smoke less. When she’s reasonably fed, she just makes more of a purring noise and doesn’t ask for stupid crap. Things that make her feel fed: parties, books, theater, new music, adventure.

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