Dear Readers,
Fall is the most nostalgic of the seasons, probably because, like childhood, it doesn’t last long. And unlike January, which ushers in the new year with guilt-based promises and shallow new beginnings, it’s September when the real change happens. One moment you’re standing in the middle of the park where you’ve spent several sweaty summer afternoons, and then you feel a chill and realize the earth has moved away from the sun just so. There’s no going back.
They say that change makes memories stronger. We at AWT are in the midst of a memory-making moment. As you know, we started with a new format two issues ago, and we’ve achieved a few successes since then: Whole Foods sales have gone through the roof, and Barnes & Noble upped their distribution, rolling out our female-focused mag to stores all over the U.S. We were also awarded the 2017 Red Dot Award for high design quality and creative achievement, and in October we’ll be heading to Berlin for the ceremony.
In this issue, you’ll notice we’ve started partnering with platforms we’re fans of, like Planned Parenthood, Ilegal Mezcal, and Miami’s PULSE Contemporary Art Fair. We’d love to hear what you think of all these changes; write to us at hello@awomensthing.org to share your thoughts.
In our 13th issue, Jane Madembo reflects on her experience as a young woman moving from her small village in Zimbabwe to the capital city of Harare, and her rude awakening that sometimes, female bosses are capable of being just as harmful as male ones. In our micro-essay section, three women remember friendships they once had and then lost. And cover artist Anna Friemoth’s “Vertigo” is a series of abstract self-portraits, a vision of what the artist sees when her eyes are closed, much like our own semi-out-of-focus memories.
Friends, thank you for making us part of your story. We hope when you page through the following poems, narratives, and photo essays, it will cause you to recall periods from your own life, in the same way that Virginia Woolf once wrote: “Memory runs her needle in and out, up and down, hither and thither. We know not what comes next, or what follows after. Thus, the most ordinary movement in the world may agitate a thousand odd, disconnected fragments.”
Your AWT Team