For a large part of the 90s and into the 00s, it was difficult to escape Fiona Horne.
The vivacious blond was everywhere – on stage with her band Def FX, on radio, TV, men’s magazines. She seemed to be living the life of Riley as a high-flying minor celebrity, splashed across pages and screens as some kind of lifestyle and fashion guru, one of the country’s foremost exponents of witchcraft.
The truth, however, as Horne reveals in the pages of her autobiography The Naked Witch, was, as it often is, very much darker: a daily struggle with poverty, loneliness, addiction and a deeply-seated desire to be accepted. The secret product of a beauty queen and a Hungarian Holocaust survivor, barely tolerated by her adoptive parents and rejected as uncool by her peers as a child, Horne’s life has been informed less by her spiritual beliefs and more by a psychological need for approval. Her book is a sobering read, a tale of a person whose enviable combination of genetics and talent should have assured fortune and success, but one who was instead sabotaged by her own insecurities. While her lifestyle brings her into direct contact with Hollywood royalty and truly famous people like Tom Jones, Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons and James Cameron, her life is constantly spiralling out of control. The irony of having a job as a psychic advisor while being totally at sea about her own life direction isn’t lost on her.
The Naked Witch is Fiona Horne stripping herself bare as she overcomes her demons, finally igniting the magic of inspiration and self-worth. It’s an occasionally harrowing journey that is also ennobling, cautionary and ultimately hopeful, a shamelessly frank confession from a strong, brave soul.