Speaking with Strangers by Mary Cantwell - As I write this, I'm just listening to an interview with Mary Cantwell, who died in 2000. I've just read whatever there was to read and learn about Mary. Yesterday I found two of her EAT columns that I'd cut out from Mademoiselle magazine in 1972. My recipes are for Hot and Cold Tarts, and I'll make them one of these days. Speaking With Strangers is about Mary's life after she divorced her husband, referred to as B in her books. She raised her two daughters, (called Snow White and Rose Red in her books) continued traveling and writing for Mademoiselle, and eventually wrote editorials for the New York Times as a member of their editorial board. It's wild to have discovered that my Mary Cantwell from Mademoiselle ended up at the New York Times, and is mostly now known for her association with that newspaper. Her years with Mademoiselle hardly count with today's "mainstream media". There is an underground group of readers who remember her as I do, though, writing EAT. It's interesting to listen to her voice, and the rather slow thoughtful way she answers the questions. Her voice in the books was a little different to me, yet similar to the voice that I read so many years ago in Mademoiselle. Mademoiselle was always more of a difficult read than was Glamour. Mademoiselle expected one to have a certain knowledge and sophistication going in, they never minded covering the obscure, and always assumed their reader would be up to the writing. Those were my days. Here's a 1970s cover. Unknown model, serious headlines, nothing slick, nothing fake.
Her Heart On Her Sleeve: I live in a suburb north of Chicago, and I read, bead, make jewelry, sew, watch TV and movies, crochet, craft, decorate, go to house and garage sales, walk and go on beach walks, listen to music, take pictures, cook and bake, read, and write about all of it on herheartonhersleeve. I have a companion blog called Jewlery by Dianne Sophia at diannesophia.blogspot.com where I write exclusively about my jewelry.
Jewelry By Dianne Sophia: I have been collecting vintage jewelry since I was a girl growing up in Detroit, and have been designing and making jewelry for 15 years. I love to work with pearls and crystals, semi-precious stones, Sterling Silver and Gold, along with vintage beads and materials. I delight in combining shape, pattern and color in new ways. I'm inspired and influenced by my travels and experiences as a reader, writer, photographer and student of life. My blog herheartonhersleeve.blogspot.com chronicles my life in art and popular culture.
Speaking with Strangers by Mary Cantwell - As I write this, I'm just listening to an interview with Mary Cantwell, who died in 2000. I've just read whatever there was to read and learn about Mary. Yesterday I found two of her EAT columns that I'd cut out from Mademoiselle magazine in 1972. My recipes are for Hot and Cold Tarts, and I'll make them one of these days. Speaking With Strangers is about Mary's life after she divorced her husband, referred to as B in her books. She raised her two daughters, (called Snow White and Rose Red in her books) continued traveling and writing for Mademoiselle, and eventually wrote editorials for the New York Times as a member of their editorial board. It's wild to have discovered that my Mary Cantwell from Mademoiselle ended up at the New York Times, and is mostly now known for her association with that newspaper. Her years with Mademoiselle hardly count with today's "mainstream media". There is an underground group of readers who remember her as I do, though, writing EAT. It's interesting to listen to her voice, and the rather slow thoughtful way she answers the questions. Her voice in the books was a little different to me, yet similar to the voice that I read so many years ago in Mademoiselle. Mademoiselle was always more of a difficult read than was Glamour. Mademoiselle expected one to have a certain knowledge and sophistication going in, they never minded covering the obscure, and always assumed their reader would be up to the writing. Those were my days. Here's a 1970s cover. Unknown model, serious headlines, nothing slick, nothing fake. 
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