She was born a princess. When her mother died, her father vowed he would not marry again until he found a woman as beautiful as his wife had been. The king searched in vain until, finally, he turned his hunger upon his own daughter. But she would not be chosen. Clad in her grey donkey skin, she fled, becoming invisible to the world. In another kingdom, in her magical hut, she lived alone but content. She wove wonderful fabrics, sewed beautiful dresses. Looking from the outside, no one would ever have guessed that lowly Donkey Skin, a scullion in the the castle kitchens, was in fact a princess. And so it might have gone on, if a prince hadn’t chanced to look through her window and fall madly in love. The feeling was reciprocated (But not before three balls were given, and a cake was baked with a ring inside—who doesn’t love an intricate courtship?)


Donkey Skin is resourceful. Just like her beautiful dresses, her life is tailor-made. Her father’s problems are not her responsibility, and she chooses to walk away. Being able to leave a toxic situation or refuse the thoughts that torment is your most useful skill whenever the quality of your life is threatened. Until the contrary is proven, you have only the one life. And to weave a life that is beautiful and harmonious, it is very important to consider the kind of warp you set up. If your warp is full of bugs, worries, severed heads, hungry monsters and broken wings, the yarn on your shuttle will be desecrated. Weave your warp wisely, and if you find yourself in an unsolvable and toxic situation, withdraw under the grey cloak of Donkey Skin, a shelter for peaceful and uncomplicated thoughts. But keep your soft donkey ears alert to ensure that the right opportunity does not pass you by.