🦁Your Lioness Crown: Creative Self-Adornment and Everyday Folk Magic

Aug 6
13 min read

Modern Magic for Midwinter

Here in Australia, Leo Season lands deep in winter. It’s a time when the cold naturally asks us to bunker down — to pull on our warmest things, wrap ourselves up, and often just roll out of bed and get on with the day. There’s no shame in that. But Leo reminds us that even in the hush of winter, there’s power in finding small ways to let yourself be seen — not for anyone else’s approval, but for your own sense of aliveness.

You might wonder, “Why would I bother?” Why add a splash of colour when you’re just ducking to the shops? Why wear that bright brooch when you could just shove on your trackies and go?

Because how we choose to show up on the outside can shift how we feel on the inside — and vice versa. In the deep quiet of winter, it’s easy to forget who we really are under all those layers. But what if you asked yourself instead:

How do I want to see myself today?
Do I want to feel bright, creative, playful?
Do I want to remember that I’m bold, quirky, radiant — even when the world feels grey?

When you choose a small adornment — a scarf, a pin, a swipe of bright lipstick, a ring that holds meaning — you’re planting a visual mantra for yourself. It’s not about hoping someone else notices. It’s about creating a tiny, tangible reminder that you notice.

Think of that moment when you catch your reflection in a shop window or the bathroom mirror. What you see can pull you back to your intention for the day: “Yes, that’s who I am. That’s what I’m carrying forward.” Just like repeating a spoken mantra helps anchor a belief, catching your reflection helps anchor this one: “I am here. I am worthy of being seen — by me first.”

This simple pause — this moment to add something not just for beauty, but for what it represents — is powerful. It’s mindfulness. It’s everyday folk magic. A little hush in the rush that says, “I’m living with intention. I’m not just drifting through the day. I choose to remember who I am.”

It doesn’t need to be fancy. It doesn’t need to be big. But choosing to show up for yourself — even in the depths of winter — is an act of courage and self-respect.

So often, we talk about self-care but forget that self-respect is part of that too. It’s the choice to remind yourself that you are worthy of your own effort, your own warmth, your own attention.

Leo energy knows this innately: you are worthy to receive, not just to give. When you adorn yourself with intention, you’re giving yourself a tiny gift — a moment to say, “I honour myself. I deserve to feel bright, even on an ordinary day.”

In this way, creative self-adornment becomes more than a pretty detail — it’s a gentle practice of caring for yourself in visible ways, letting your inside meet the world with warmth and quiet pride.

✨Tiny Ways to Wear Your Courage

Your Lioness Crown doesn’t have to be a literal crown. It can be a simple pin, a scarf, a colour, a scent — anything that helps you feel more like the version of yourself you want to be today.

Remember: how you adorn yourself can gently shift how you feel. These tiny acts of adornment are like little spells cast each morning — visible reminders that help you live into the energy you most want to hold. If you like, you might even give your chosen item a gentle smudge, bless it with a few words, or hold it for a moment to set an intention before you put it on.

🌿 Add a Spark of Warmth (or Cool, or Bright)

Colours hold energy — they can shape our mood and carry us forward. If bright colours feel intimidating, start small. And use what serves you best in any given moment. For example if you have been feeling stressed or angry, cool blues can help settle that.

Red can evoke passion, vitality, courage — a tiny pop of red (a scarf, a ring, bold lipstick) can give you a spark of fire when you need it.
Yellow and gold bring cheer and optimism — perfect for adding warmth to a grey day.
Cool blues feel soothing and steady — a favourite pair of blue socks might ground you.
Greens invite gentle growth; purples hold quiet dignity and self-worth.

If big colour pieces feel too much, pick a subtle pop: a pair of socks, a hair tie, a tiny thread on your bag. Let it be your secret spark.

🌿 Wear Your Stories, But Choose Carefully

Adorning yourself with pieces that carry a story — a grandmother’s brooch, a ring passed down, a scarf knit by loving hands — can wrap you in layers of memory and meaning. But pause for a moment: does this piece evoke love, courage, warmth? Or does it keep you stuck in longing and sadness?

Choose items that help you feel held by the strength and love they represent — not pieces that pull you deeper into what is lost. In my own family, we have a soft blue jumper that my sister and I have shared for years. My grandma knitted it for my father — a simple, magical loop of warmth, courage, and family care. When I wear it, I remember that intention to keep each other warm in spirit too.

I also have a brooch of my mother’s that I wear to family events — a quiet symbol that I am here carrying her best traits forward. It’s not pinned as a wound, but as a living reminder: I am made of more love than loss.

🌿 Make It Playful

Being playful teases us gently out of hiding — it evokes our childlike spirit, the part that naturally seeks lightness and possibility. This is where courage blooms, almost without us realising.

Try something that makes you smile: paint your nails a silly colour, wear your cat ears in winter if you want to. A playful scarf, a funny badge, a bright beanie — these little things help us step out of our shells with curiosity and warmth.

🌿 Adorn Yourself Just for You

The most important part: do it for you. If you love it — wear it. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Maybe it’s your sparkly earrings for your work-from-home day, your favourite scent when you’re just reading, or your bright lipstick on your solo coffee run. If you love it, that’s reason enough.

🌿 Treat It Like a Visual Mantra

When you choose your adornment, treat it like you would a crystal or magical tool: tune it to your intention. Hold it for a moment. Whisper what it’s for. “May this help me feel confident today.” “May this remind me of my playful heart.”

When you see your reflection — in a window, a mirror, a kettle — take a breath and let that sight anchor you back into the feeling you want to carry. The more you see it, the more you believe it. It’s like a spoken mantra — but one you wear.

🌿 Everyday Folk Magic: Intention Over Perfection

Adorning yourself with intention is a kind of folk magic — simple, gentle, and alive in the everyday. When you choose to wear something not just for how it looks, but for what it represents — courage, playfulness, warmth, self-respect, health, luck — you’re weaving old ways into your modern life.

Folk magic has always been about these ordinary acts done with care. In the old days, people would tie ribbons, wear certain colours, tuck charms into clothing, or hang wreaths on doors — small rituals that turned everyday life into something protective, hopeful, and sacred. These practices were powerful not because they were grand or complicated, but because they were part of daily life.

There are no strict rules here — because folk magic is folk. It’s shaped by the people who practice it, passed down through families, adapted with time, and woven into ordinary moments. It’s your birthright as a human to create your own little spells in this way: mismatched colours, bold choices, unusual pieces — these aren’t mistakes; they’re living symbols of your spirit.

Sometimes, these small choices even spark connection — a stranger stops you in the street and says, “I love your hat!” or “That scarf makes me smile!” In that moment, you can speak the magic aloud: “Thank you — I chose it because I wanted to feel playful today.” Saying it seals your intention, makes it real, and breathes that Leo courage into your day.

So let your Lioness Crown — whether it’s a pin, a flower in your hair, or a pair of joyful socks — be your simple, wearable folk magic. It’s your reminder that courage, warmth, and self-worth don’t need to be hidden away. They can live with you, seen and felt, every single day.

✧ Echoes Through Time: Magical Adornment in Folk Traditions ✧

Throughout history, humans have adorned themselves not just for beauty, but for meaning. From protective talismans to symbolic mourning garments, adornment has always had a magical purpose — a way of carrying belief, memory, or energy on the body. These practices, rooted in folk tradition and ancestral wisdom, remind us that even our everyday choices — a brooch, a braid, a flower — can be spells in their own right.

Here are just a few old customs where adornment and magic walked hand in hand:

1. Iron pins in clothing

In Celtic and European traditions, iron was thought to ward off mischievous spirits and fairies. People would pin small iron nails or brooches to garments — especially those of children — as a form of protection.

2. Black veils in mourning

Wearing black, especially a veil, during mourning was more than a social custom. It was a way of shielding the grieving heart from spirits, offering both respect and energetic protection in liminal times.

3. Poppies on Anzac Day

Red poppies, worn over the heart, honour the memory of those who have died in war. Though modern, this tradition taps into ancient ritual — using flowers as sacred symbols of blood, sacrifice, and remembrance.

4. Rowan berries sewn into hems

In Scottish folk magic, rowan berries — often strung on red thread and worn under clothing — were said to protect against enchantment and ill-wishing.

5. Hair and nails as tokens

A lock of a loved one’s hair placed in a locket or sewn into a garment was common in love and mourning charms. Hair carried energy and was seen as a living link to someone, even after death.

6. Blue beads and evil eyes

Across many cultures, blue beads — especially with an “eye” design — were worn to ward off jealousy and negative attention. These protective amulets were often incorporated into jewellery or sewn into the lining of clothes.

7. Wreaths of herbs and flowers

Celtic maidens once wore flower crowns woven with herbs like mugwort or vervain during festivals for protection, fertility, and connection to the divine.

8. Red thread around the wrist

Found in various folk traditions (including Irish, Jewish, and Slavic), the red thread was worn to protect against bad luck and attract blessings.

9. Coins in shoes or garters

Worn at weddings or seasonal rites, a coin in the shoe or stitched into a hem brought good fortune and was believed to ensure prosperity in the new chapter.

10. Painted or hennaed hands

From Celtic warriors to modern brides, body paint or henna has been used to mark rites of passage, invoke protection, and express personal power and transformation.

✨ And even today, we carry these threads of folk magic into our own adornments:

Wedding rings — more than jewellery, they are a sacred circle of eternal love and commitment, echoing ancient talismanic rings.
Crystals tucked into bras or pockets — quiet companions, believed to carry courage, grounding, or healing energy wherever we go.
Peacock feathers — long considered symbols of protection, vision, and pride, though in some traditions they were also feared for inviting mischief if kept indoors.
Opals — a stone once steeped in superstition as unlucky, now reclaimed as a crystal of mystery, creativity, and inner fire, reflecting the wearer’s light like Leo itself.

Adorning ourselves has always been more than decoration — it’s an act of magic, intention, and self-expression. Each choice we make is a chance to carry a little more courage, creativity, and connection into the world.

🦁 My Reflection

For years — all my life, really — I’ve been fascinated by fashion and the power it holds. I’ve never followed the rules, but I’ve never not cared, either. For me, clothes, jewellery, and little adornments have always been a way to call in a certain feeling or a kind of quiet power — tiny spells I cast to step into who I want to be.

One of my earliest memories of this is as a little girl, riding my pushbike around the yard wearing one of my dad’s old racing helmets. Looking back, I know it was probably too big and wobbly (dangerous even), but it made me feel fast and capable — like I could channel my dad’s courage, which I admired so much.

Another tiny talisman was my “roller skating hairstyle.” When I stayed at Grandma’s, I’d beg my aunty to do my hair in two high ponytails — higher than my mum would ever do for school. For some reason, those bouncing ponytails made me feel beautiful, playful, and brave on my skates — I’d spin and glide, feeling more like the version of myself I loved. I was only six or seven when that started, but it stuck with me for years.

As a teenager, I went through my black clothes and gothic phases — that delicious little rebellion so many of us try on. It was my way of saying to the world, “Don’t tell me what to do. I am my own person.” I didn’t have to speak it — I wore it.

In my adult life, my relationship with adornment has only deepened. You already know about my Doc Martens — my “inappropriate shoes” for weddings and funerals — my way of keeping my feet sturdy on the ground and reminding myself I dress for me. You know about my red lipstick too: I’ve worn it since I was fifteen. It’s my not-afraid-to-be-seen paint, a gentle roar from a shy girl who still holds her head high.

One of my most precious pieces, though, is a tiny angel pin with a sapphire that my father gave me. I pinned it inside my wedding gown, close to my heart, and ever since, it has been my quiet talisman for luck and courage. I wear it when I attend large social gatherings where I might feel small, and always at funerals — its presence reminds me I am held and protected, carrying a piece of my dad with me. Over the years, I’ve also tucked that little angel into my daughter’s clothing before auditions, exams, and stage performances — a shared charm, passing on love, courage, and the belief that she is never alone. It’s remarkable how such a small thing can hold so much meaning, becoming almost a living spirit of protection and strength.

Some pieces feel extra playful, like my furry cat ears for the Winter Magic Festival. I made them years ago for my daughter, but I wear them every year — a grown woman walking the streets with cat ears on! It might look silly, but it reminds me of Friday the 13th dress-ups at school, when I always went as a black cat. It makes me feel cheeky, young, and more likely to dance in the street or laugh too loudly at the music drifting by.

Then there are my silver platform sneakers — my dancing shoes. When I wear them to gigs, they make me feel like I could spin and twirl forever. Even at home, I have my little “spells” — like my red lipstick on an ordinary Tuesday, or a “friendly cardigan” that makes me softer and more open when I want to be.

And then there’s my dressing gown. Odd as it may sound, I think it might be the most magical piece of clothing I own. When I wrap myself in it while unwell or deeply tired, it’s like a heavy anchor that holds me safely in place, whispering, sit still, rest, do little. In those moments, it is perfect — a talisman of care and permission to stop. But it carries a danger too. If I wear it too long, I feel its pull deepen, drawing me toward inertia, even depression. For me, a couple of days in my dressing gown is often the first sign I may be struggling emotionally or mentally. So I regulate its use with care — honouring its gift of rest, but also recognising when it begins to keep me still for too long. It teaches me to watch myself with compassion and awareness.

These tiny choices aren’t always grand or glamorous. Sometimes they’re as simple as noticing whether I’m dressed to meet the day or to hide from it. I think of all the hospital advice these days — how patients are encouraged to bring clothes for daytime, new pyjamas for night, because getting dressed helps us believe we’re ready to recover, to sit up, to eat breakfast, to heal. Adornment is more powerful than we give it credit for.

Looking back, I can see that for me — and probably for you too — these little things have always been more than pretty details. They’re living folk magic: small, ordinary acts that can shift how we feel, how we carry ourselves, and how we meet the world. It’s a reminder that nothing we do is ever truly insignificant when we do it consciously and with care.

So yes, my Lioness Crown might be my Docs, my lipstick, my silver shoes, my cat ears, my tiny sapphire angel pin — or even my dressing gown. But really, it’s the courage to choose who I want to be, every single day, in big ways and small.

A Little Ritual

When you feel ready, gather a few adornments that speak to you — a scarf, a ring, a pin, a pair of earrings, a hat. Light a candle or incense if you like. Hold each item and bless it with an intention. Smudge them if you wish. You might whisper: “May this help me feel bright.” “May this remind me of my courage.” “May this keep my playfulness close.”

When you wear your piece, pause to see your reflection. Let it be a hush — a moment to remember the promise you made to yourself.

Journaling Prompts

🌹What qualities do I want to see in myself more often?

Which colours or adornments could help me evoke those feelings?

🌹When have I used clothing or accessories to help me feel braver, warmer, or more joyful?

What did I learn from that?

🌹Are there pieces I hold onto that feel heavy or sad?

Do they keep me rooted in loss — or can I choose ones that remind me of love, strength, or hope?

🌹How do I feel when I see my reflection?

Is there a way I’d like to feel instead? How could a tiny adornment help me bridge that?

🌹What could my ‘Lioness Crown’ look like this winter?

🌹What small, meaningful thing could I wear tomorrow to remind myself: I am worthy, I am radiant, I am here.