According to my friend Hedy Mowinckel, there’s nothing that can’t be explained through astrology: if you were born with Mercury in your eighth house you’re better at talking dirty; if Venus was in your 10th house you’re likely to become famous. Even people’s faces can indicate their star signs. Hedy says that Joaquin Phoenix has Scorpio eyes, while Keanu Reeves has a classic Virgo forehead. And she once told one of our friends that according to her birth chart she has the capacity for mystical levels of orgasm. The friend looked thoughtful – and broke up with her boyfriend two days later.
But then, Hedy is an astrologer who goes by the professional name of Nymph of Neptune. She’s 27, lives in Chelsea and charges £150 a pop to advise fellow millennials about their sun signs, rising signs, moon signs and ruling planets. She consults birth charts and aspect tables, longitudinal and latitudinal coordinates to tender advice and divine the inner workings of a person’s soul. And business is booming. What started as a pastime can now fully support her while she pursues a career in filmmaking. ‘I feel so lucky to be able to have turned my passion into a business,’ Hedy tells me. ‘People come to me to find clarity and to better understand themselves.’
These people – It Girls, venture capitalists, career men and women, hordes of our friends – are in good company. Such political heavyweights as Indira Gandhi and François Mitterrand were known to consult astrologers before making any major decision, while Nancy Reagan famously appointed a White House astrologer. More disturbingly, Hitler was obsessed with the supernatural and also dabbled in mysticism. In fact, one in five of us believes in the power of the zodiac – the practice is so common it’s more embarrassing to say you believe in God than in Mercury in retrograde.
This desire for higher meaning is nothing new. People have always turned to astrology because it claims to offer insight into who we are. It emphasises romantic notions of fate and destiny, of everything happening for a reason and of paths that nebulously ‘cross’. Jacqui Ritchie is certainly a believer in the magic of the universe: she recently posted a photo from her wedding to Guy Ritchie with the caption ‘Three years ago today, on the 15th of Leo, we united #soulmates’. As Jacqui puts it to me: ‘Astrology is a guide to our personal transformation, with the ultimate purpose of giving us control over our lives. It has the power to illuminate our strengths and flag our weaknesses, enhance our interactions with the people in our lives, and deepen our connection to ourselves and others.’
One need only look at the popularity of horoscopes to see a phenomenon in action. The first horoscope column came into being thanks to the Royal Family. When Princess Margaret was born in 1930, the Sunday Express commissioned an article by RH Naylor, assistant to a shaman called Cheiro, on what the stars foretold for the baby. The piece was a huge success and Naylor was commissioned to write more. When a plane crashed after he predicted that ‘a British aircraft will be in danger’, he was given a weekly column. Soon Naylor began writing horoscopes for people according to their star signs, and other papers followed suit. Naylor was tapping into a human yearning – a yearning fulfilled for years for readers of the astrology column in the Telegraph by Catherine Tennant, daughter of the 2nd Baron Glenconner and wife of Sir Mark Palmer, one-time page for the Queen and hippy horse dealer. Read, too, the works of Muriel Spark and Anthony Powell and you’ll see how a fascination with the arcane has always informed British life.
But it was in the Sixties and Seventies that mysticism really took off. In this so-called ‘Age of Aquarius’, people began rejecting organised religion, replacing it with the more malleable concept of spirituality. Horoscopes were one avenue, though not taken too seriously by everyone – Keith Richards, born on the same day as the Stones’ saxophonist Bobby Keys, once told his fellow Sagittarius: ‘We’re half man, half horse and we got a licence to shit in the streets.’ In another Stones example, Marianne Faithfull and Mick Jagger memorably consulted the I Ching, an ancient Chinese divination text, about the errant guitarist Brian Jones: it prophesised ‘death by water’. Seven days later, Jones drowned in a swimming pool. Far out, man.
Now this move to mysticism is back – and among the most avid followers of the stars are the stars. Kendall Jenner talks of how she ‘sticks to people’ because she’s a Scorpio, Taylor Swift has described herself as ‘blindly optimistic’ as a Sagittarius, and Rihanna warns that, as a Pisces, she’s ‘never been interested in temporary friendships’. Meanwhile, Helena Bonham Carter admits to looking up co-stars’ signs to see who she might ‘get on with’.
Indeed, many celebrities feel such an affinity with their star signs that they permanently mark their bodies with them. Harry Styles tattooed Aquarius on his wrist and Rita Ora has Sagittarius behind her ear. Famously, Cara Delevingne has a lion’s head on her index finger to indicate her own fierceness as a Leo – incidentally, it’s also the name of her dog.
It’s probably worth mentioning at this point that I think astrology is pure fiction – although I’m not sure I’d go as far as physicist Brian Cox’s assertion that ‘new-age drivel is undermining the very fabric of our civilisation.’ I may be a nonbeliever but other sceptics have been converted. Five years ago, writer Daisy Waugh – daughter of Auberon, granddaughter of Evelyn and a cynic like both – attended a tarot class. The occult practice, which seeks answers from a deck of 78 picture cards called the Rider-Waite, got her immediately hooked (TS Eliot was also fascinated by the tarot). Daisy now charges £70 to perform readings from her home in Barnes (or via Skype for those reluctant to cross Hammersmith Bridge). She believes that people’s interest in the mystical harks back to religion. As she says, it lets us ‘see the magic of the universe and what we have inside ourselves’.
But, more than anything, we – society belles and shopgirls, dukes and dish-washers – turn to the stars about The One. After all, ‘What’s your star sign?’ is among the most clichéd of chat-up lines. But mystical matchmaking has now reached new levels, with zodiac apps such as Align or Scope ’Em that pair you with compatible partners. Nothing better demonstrates astrology’s power than the way we appraise potential partners based on the time they emerged from their mothers. Even if randomly assigned, astrology enables us to find a tribe, or to compete and compare ourselves with others. A friend of mine claims she’d sooner date a relative than an Aries. ‘At least my cousin and I would have things in common,’ she sighs. No wonder society is hooked.
It’s human nature to look for patterns, to instil coincidences with meaning, and to search for answers to big questions. While horoscopes may encourage a tribe mentality, it’s never xenophobic, sexist or bigoted. It’s harmless because, secretly, most of us know it’s not based on anything really tangible. The internet has made astrology comprehensible and accessible, while social media allows us to embroider horoscopes into memes and to play and have fun with them. Astrology offers the guidance, support and sense of belonging that people need. Make that some people: I still think it’s all rubbish, but according to Hedy, that’s because I’m a stubborn Capricorn.
