After Iceland's recent financial meltdown, its biggest export, Bjork, has teamed up with Reykjavik-based Audur Capital to raise money to invest in sustainable businesses in her maligned homeland. Music might not be able to heal the world, but at least Bjork's a tryin'.
As the sun rises on one horizon, it sets on another. As one door wafts open, another unexpectedly slams shut. The day I got my job at Suicide Girls my grandma died.
I'm not sharing this with you to bum you out. Nor am I looking for sympathy. I'd merely like to take a moment to pay tribute to the life of a remarkable women.
My grandma was born in 1910. She was a slight but sprightly woman, who was staggeringly stubborn when she needed to be. She was globetrotting well into her eighties, and, almost to the very end, would merrily kick my parents out of the house when they came to visit if they fussed too much or got in the way of her routine. Like the Energizer bunny she kept on going, and going. She lived to the grand old age of 98 years and 6 months.
As a young girl her wish was to do something useful with her life; She desperately wanted to become a nurse. But she grew up in an age where women had their place, and her parents felt such work wasn't ladylike. They expected her to get married and have kids -- nothing more.
My grandma rebelled. She ran away from home when she was just sixteen. The year was 1926. She ran off to an area of North London called Kilburn, which was once a genteel spa town but is now better known for its plethora of curry houses. Her goal was to "go into service."
As luck would have it a general strike began shortly after she fled home. Instead of working in service as a maid she found herself doing a "proper" job. She worked as a bus conductor, a position that was out of the reach of women before the strike.
Later my grandma found love and gladly accepted her predestined role as a wife and mother, but she never forgot her dreams of becoming a nurse. She spoke about them often when I'd visit her on Sundays while I was a student in London. She satisfied her need by tirelessly working for the Red Cross, volunteering at hospitals, and by reading endless nurse and doctor penny romance mysteries that were dropped off by the bag load by the local council mobile library service.
My grandma never gave up on her dreams, but grew up in a time when expectations and opportunities were limited for women. Indeed, in England women only got the vote on equal terms with men in 1928, when my grandma was just 18. Fortunately, times have changed, and women no longer have to compromise or settle for merely reading novels about their dreams.
And so I begin a new life at Suicide Girls. May it be worthy of my rebellious and daring grandma.
Nicole
XOX
"I wish to be cremated but make sure I'm dead."
Mrs Louie Mosley, 1910-2008
I'm not sharing this with you to bum you out. Nor am I looking for sympathy. I'd merely like to take a moment to pay tribute to the life of a remarkable women.
My grandma was born in 1910. She was a slight but sprightly woman, who was staggeringly stubborn when she needed to be. She was globetrotting well into her eighties, and, almost to the very end, would merrily kick my parents out of the house when they came to visit if they fussed too much or got in the way of her routine. Like the Energizer bunny she kept on going, and going. She lived to the grand old age of 98 years and 6 months.
As a young girl her wish was to do something useful with her life; She desperately wanted to become a nurse. But she grew up in an age where women had their place, and her parents felt such work wasn't ladylike. They expected her to get married and have kids -- nothing more.
My grandma rebelled. She ran away from home when she was just sixteen. The year was 1926. She ran off to an area of North London called Kilburn, which was once a genteel spa town but is now better known for its plethora of curry houses. Her goal was to "go into service."
As luck would have it a general strike began shortly after she fled home. Instead of working in service as a maid she found herself doing a "proper" job. She worked as a bus conductor, a position that was out of the reach of women before the strike.
Later my grandma found love and gladly accepted her predestined role as a wife and mother, but she never forgot her dreams of becoming a nurse. She spoke about them often when I'd visit her on Sundays while I was a student in London. She satisfied her need by tirelessly working for the Red Cross, volunteering at hospitals, and by reading endless nurse and doctor penny romance mysteries that were dropped off by the bag load by the local council mobile library service.
My grandma never gave up on her dreams, but grew up in a time when expectations and opportunities were limited for women. Indeed, in England women only got the vote on equal terms with men in 1928, when my grandma was just 18. Fortunately, times have changed, and women no longer have to compromise or settle for merely reading novels about their dreams.
And so I begin a new life at Suicide Girls. May it be worthy of my rebellious and daring grandma.
Nicole
XOX
"I wish to be cremated but make sure I'm dead."
Mrs Louie Mosley, 1910-2008
