Something Wicked This Way Comes…
Hosting a Halloween party was something I'd always wanted to do. Inevitable, really. But as it is with most of my projects – anything worth doing well is worth overdoing.
This modest little project started coming to fruition in August – ok well, actually back in the spring – in a backyard I spent an entire season transforming into my own little escape. By late summer I could sense it starting to come to an end, but I wasn't ready to let go just yet. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it – I wanted to share it. I wanted to bring my people together at a time when the world felt especially dim and give them something magical. The kind of night that fills a chilly October evening with candlelight, cocktails, memories and magic.
Once I committed to this party, I knew a traditional invitation couldn't encapsulate what I was creating.
I've never met a project I couldn't overdo.
Fifty (yes, 50) apothecary products. Each with a clever name, tagline, custom label and a substance inside that matched the vibe – sparkly liquids, dried herbs, mysterious powders, things best left unidentified. Some were beautiful; others were questionable – all of them were exactly right.
[image carousel of apothecary products]
The jewel in the crown of this whole affair was the apothecary sign. Crafted from a single black-painted board, cut by my dad with his CNC to reveal the natural wood beneath. The hands and spell design make it look like magic dancing across the pine. It was a true labor of love. My dad is patient and is just as much of a perfectionist – the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
The warning sign (also courtesy of dad's CNC) helped set the tone as our guests ventured into the garden. It featured the same artwork from the invitation – a natural way to tie everything together, shining in the dark with a spotlight.
The gravestones were the final CNC collaboration with my dad. Eight residents of our garden cemetery, each with a name only the punny-minded ghoul would appreciate. I spray painted each with a gray base coat, then finished them off with black to accent the names – dad's recommendation of a specialty spray paint gave the foam board an authentic stone-like finish.
I also made 12 custom fortune tellers (yes, paper ones straight from the 90s). Each in a different color with witchy imagery and snarky fortunes waiting inside. They looked perfect on the tables (even if the wind had other plans).
[fortune teller photo/video]
The signature cocktails, Witches' Brew and Sinner's Cider, called for an extra-special elixir – so, naturally I made the syrups from scratch. A lavender-honey infusion and a sweet cinnamon syrup, each dyed and finished with edible glitter for maximum magic. Both were corked in ornate glass bottles with custom labels and branded with our Handy's Cursed & Cured Apothecary label. They were so gorgeous most people thought they were merely decorative. (Both were delightfully delicious if I do say so myself.)
And then there was the yard – *ahem* – witch's garden, itself.
By the time October 18th arrived, the backyard I'd spent all spring and summer transforming into my outdoor oasis had been completely transformed into the witchy garden from my dreams. My husband, ever my ride-or-die, had been along for every wild idea – including building a coffin out of old pallet wood and helping me transform a broken skeleton and some sticks into a pumpkin-headed spook.
My summer flower arrangements – which I am proud to report survived the entire season – got a magical makeover and were adorned with skeleton arms, zombie hands, black flowers, eyeballs and tentacles peeking out from the blooms. My fern even got in on the festivities and was transformed into a creepy carnivorous creature.
Two round tables dressed in black lace and cloths played host to creepy branch arrangements draped in spiderwebs, black butterflies and bats, crystal garlands and fairy lights to create stunning centerpieces that were both glamorous and ghoulish. The tablescapes were finished off with spell books, magic 8 balls, candles and fortune tellers.
Some magic has to be seen to be believed, so see for yourself – if you dare – the witch's garden awaits below.
No proper coven carnival would be complete without a feast worthy of the occasion – ours consisted of a coffin charcuterie board with a skeleton presiding over the feast, a warm cauldron full of hearty mullagatawny soup, pumpkin spice snickerdoodles and dirt-n-worms cups served with shovels for spoons.
Each cocktail recipe was presented on a custom-designed spellbook page – dark, dramatic and perfectly on theme. Should you wish to cast these spells yourself, the recipes and incantations are below. Feel free to omit the Handy's Apothecary syrups; your potion will still shimmer with second sight.
Magic and melodies go hand-in-hand, so the right soundtrack can make or break a spell. The Witch's Garden playlist was carefully curated to set the mood – spooky, enchanting and heavy on the witchy vibes, with just enough familiar songs to get the guests singing along without ever overpowering the atmosphere.
The coven was summoned. They came. We frolicked – and it was, by every measure, a night of wonder and wicked delight.