Dear all signs

Dear all signs

Elaine Benbury used the pen-name “Mysterious Maggie” when she started writing horoscopes for a popular women’s magazine in the spring of 1972. The magazine, which had a small but loyal readership, was called “Women – hey!” and was filled with cookery tips, interior design techniques, fashion and some real life stories of hope. For almost forty years Mysterious Maggie contributed to the star sign page, and she never once failed to file her work before, or on the deadline of each issue.

For her first three horoscopes of 1972, she wrote mostly vague predictions which gained little or no attention from the readers of “Women – hey!”

Dear Capricorns,

This month something interesting will happen to you at work, something nice will happen in your social life and something else will happen at home.

Elaine had wandered into fortune telling unexpectedly and at first she felt a little uneasy in the world of tarot, palm reading and crystal balls. Elaine tried several occupations before the world of the semi-occult enchanted her, including tele-sales, marketing, child minding and nude portrait modeling. But none of them provided her with the satisfaction of deciding people’s futures for them. It was like playing with dolls, with lots and plenty of tiny little dolls, and Elaine had always loved playing with dolls when she was a little girl.

After her vague predictions of spring and summer ’72 Elaine started to discover that she could actually predict the future for strangers. When close friends asked her if she could actually see into the future, she would reply “probably” because the real mystery of it all was that she actually didn’t know herself. She knew from the fan mail from her loyal base that she was right at least 50% of the time, and to Elaine Benbury, this signified success. What she knew for certain was that every morning she got up, put on the radio and waited for a sentence or two to come into her mind. Once it came, she grabbed it, recorded it, wrote it down and kept it and that would be the prediction for that particular sign that month. Close friends would also beg her to tell their fortunes at dinners or other social occasions, but the fact of the matter was, she couldn’t do it live. She could only write it down.

At first she felt a little ashamed and thought that she ought to read up or study palm reading, tarot, shamanism or crystal ball reading. But no sooner had she put pen to paper than she realised that she could actually do this work without training or experience, and this pleased her no end.

Elaine went through many phases during her almost 40 years of predicting, eventually winning “Horoscope writer of the year award” for ten consecutive seasons, from 2001 – until 2011.

However she wasn’t always as successful. Her initial vague period of early 1972 was replaced by a floaty period which was met with very little interest from the readers of “Women – hey!”

Dear Aries,

There will be lively green seas surrounding your aura this month and like a gentle bull, you will need to pull away from the softness carefully.

This so-called floaty period, was replaced by an unwise Shakespearan era, which lasted until the autumn of 1982.

Dear Taurus,

Thou doth knoweth in thine heart, oh beloved Taurus that the future is like a sea unknown by all men, and their women folk neither. Hark, who cometh? Wait, oh prey that my love and your love endeth this night. Blessed be this night.

Elaine enjoyed an interest in horticulture, which also showed its face on her pages during issues in the late 80s.

Dear Leos,

You are a rose, and like all roses, tulips and daffodils, you are a delight. You grow Leo, tall and strong and regal and proper. Let those roots of yours stay as firm as they can be and let your soil feed your own energy and love feed your core.

Elaine also went through a cynical and bitter period during the summer of 1986 when her lover and best friend, the Slovak graphic designer Olga, left her.

Dear Sagittarii

Never trust a Sagittarian! You fucking two faced hypocritical sign from hell. Why don’t you just throw yourselves off a platform into an oncoming train? Hey? Just like Ana fucking Karenina, another two timing fucking whore.

Which was itself replaced by a mellow, yet existential phase until the early 90s

Hey Geminis,

There’s no point to it all really is there? Not when you think about it rationally.  So why don’t you just leave your job, tell your lover your moving to Reno, and forget to feed the cat, I mean who would really care anyway.

But after several meetings with the editor of “Women, hey!” Elaine finally found her form in early 91 and wrote consistently to all her ladies from there on inwards. Women liked her tone and her humour and they felt, they really did feel, that she was writing to them and to them alone.

Dear Mysterious Maggie,

Last month you told me that there were waves of great change about to lap through my life and only last weekend I met a man who loves to surf!!! Imagine! You are a miracle and a wonder and I love you.

(name and address with held).

But then without warning or mention to her editor of 40 years, Elaine filed her last predictions recently in January 2015, with just one last future intention for all her readers.

Dear all signs,

You are about to loose a presence in your life that is similar to a mother, teacher, secret friend or nurse. Don’t be sad or concerned. Just try now to find your own unique answers to your own imaginative questions. The journey is long and you have to find your own way of reading the map, I could only ever help turn the style. Remember that the butterfly, who sits on the nose of a crocodile, is never in danger. And remember too, that I love you with the whole of my heart, and I always will.

Mysterious Maggie.

The January issue of “Women – hey” is said to be a collectors’ item already within the small community of Maggie fans, and a commemorative copy is available online.