Don't Buy This Witchcraft Kit If You Just Want a Halloween Prop

I bought mine last October to prove a friend wrong. Twelve months later it's still on my bedside table. Here's the whole story, including the parts that don't flatter me.

By Hannah M.

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Contributor

Updated 07 Sep 2026

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Every October, people buy a witchcraft kit for the same reason they buy a plastic cauldron. It photographs well. It goes on a shelf on 1 November and never moves again.

If that's the plan, save your $79.97. I mean that, and I'm being paid to write this.

Paid partnership with Mindful Souls. The first thing I asked them was whether I could write the version that talks people out of it. They said yes — that's most of the reason I said yes.

Where I was last September

My evenings had gone shapeless. Work, dinner, then two hours of scrolling that I couldn't account for afterwards. Nothing dramatic. I just wasn't really present for the end of my own day.

My friend [FRIEND'S NAME] has an altar in her flat — candles, a few stones, a bowl of dried herbs. I'd been gently taking the mickey out of it for two years.

Then she said the thing that got under my skin: you don't have one single moment in your day that you do slowly, on purpose, with nothing else going on.

She was right. I bought the kit that night, mostly out of spite.

What I actually got for $79.97

It arrived heavier than I expected. That was the first thing that made me take it seriously.

Natural stones in a velvet pouch — Red Agate, Lapis Lazuli and others

Glass jars of herbs and dried blooms — sage, mugwort and more, and far more of them than the photos suggest

Ritual candles — one colour per intention

A crystal spoon and ritual tools — the bits I assumed I'd never touch and now use weekly

A step-by-step spell booklet — written as instructions, not mysticism. This is the part that made the difference for me.

Honest note before you buy: the crystal jars vary from box to box. Mine weren't identical to the listing photos. That didn't bother me. It might bother you.