In honor of International Women’s Day, here are some of our favorite features on chefs, writers, bankers, artists, filmmakers, and athletes that just happen to be women.
What advice would you give to your 23-year-old self?
“I remember wanting to always fit in and trying to please others. I would say to myself: stay true to yourself and have confidence in yourself!”
“In the Delta one thing you realize is how proud we are of our food culture,” Williams said. “I grew up with women with an incredible cooking tradition. I was raised eating food in the style of my grandmother, who was from Waycross, Georgia, so even though I eat healthy, it’s not in some weird, modern way.”
Linkie Marais was a high school sophomore when she started working for a local wedding catering company, Billie’s Catering in Guntown. By the time she graduated from high school, she was decorating the company’s wedding cakes by herself.
Artist Deborah Mansfield of West Point, along with a team of other volunteers with West Point Main Street, and local business owners, are using paint as the centerpiece of the transformation they are bringing to the city’s downtown.
Alex Bowen divides her office into two parts. Piles of nursing books and IV tubes are stacked on one side, while on the other are boxes and boxes of beads, wires and jewelry tools.
“The whole reason I started quilting was this quilt,” Karen Asbury says as she points out the hand-pieced squares and stitches of the quilt that came to her from her grandmother. Asbury found the quilt squares while cleaning out her late mother’s house.
Lisa and Richard Howorth’s bookstore casts a long shadow over the historic Oxford Square. A modern-day equivalent of a literary salon, anybody who is or aspires to be a Southern literary somebody reads at Square Books and often befriends its owners.
As an artist, having your work included in a Smithsonian exhibit is an impressive feat. Even more impressive? Achieving that as part of an artistic career you started without even realizing you’re an artist.
Some artists are born artists, and some artists are created. For the duo at Aspen Bay’s flagship retail store in Starkville, it was a series of experiences and opportunities that cultivated their creative eyes, and made them into accidental design mavens.
Having left the Eaglein 2013, Addington now works as a writer and social media director for the Oxford-based trade publication PMQ Magazine, and as development director for the Oxford Film Festival. She makes movies in her spare time. Addington started in the business about four years ago, writing, producing and doing crew work for other people before deciding she was ready to direct herself.
“I write to know what I think. I can’t remember anything unless I write it down,” says Catherine Lacey, 29. The New York-based writer and Tupelo-native just published her first book “Nobody is Ever Missing” (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, July 2014), a dark novel about a young woman desperately trying to figure herself out before her inner “wildebeest” claims her sanity.
ulie Cantrell was in her mid-30s when she compiled her own bucket list – things she wanted to accomplish before she died. Not that she was facing immediate doom. But after having settled in Oxford, the Louisiana-native and her husband agreed life was simply passing too quickly.
Situated in Crosstown at 189 South Green St., Simply Sweet by Margarete offers European fare, much of it riffs on German and French breads. Owner, Margarete Garner, is a naturalized U.S. citizen who left her native Bavarian town of Ansbach in southern Germany some 24 years ago, initially to follow her heart.
Boarding a plane in Istanbul, Turkey, in March of this year, Mississippian Brittney Reese looked at her phone. To her surprise, she found a message from the very woman whose 18-year-old American Indoor long jump record she had just broken.
When the blinds are open in the front room of the Victorian house in Como, a life-sized casting of a pure white woman can be seen with her arms raised ceremoniously over her head. At her feet is another life-sized figure, reclining on the floor. “That’s me,” Sharon McConnell-Dickerson said. “At least what I think looks like me.”