A Letter from our Founder
‘Body’ can mean many things. Sometimes when I think of ‘body’, I think of beauty, an incredible brain, strong thighs, an athlete flinging themselves over a high-jump. Other times I think of summer dresses, ears adorned with piercings, watercolour tattoos, stubbly legs.
Sadly, of late, we have been forced to associate the word ‘body’ with the abuse of innocent bodies by misguided people with damaging agendas. It’s summer; we want to be thinking of ankle-skimming water in paddling pools; lazy barbecues in London parks; Aperol Spritz. These images are battling with those of bodies we hear about on the news. Bodies that were taken before their time.
In the face of such events, we are constantly reminded to look after our bodies. To look after the bodies of our loved ones. To be safe.
These times feel tough, particularly when Salomé is a positive soul; she thrives on positivity. She enjoys a world full of love, respect and - of course - amazing writing from the pens of talented female writers. She considers her magazine to be a positive act of defiance and power; negotiating a chink in the publishing industry, picking apart a few seams, and throwing some female literary talent into the mix. And then some more still, for good measure.
“Yes, they’re women; we thought you could do with a few more around these parts.”
In the aftermath of all that has been, Salomé finds that she is not alone in clinging onto hope. We always find a way: to get back on the tube, to walk the streets at night, to talk about it and problem-solve to the best of our abilities with friends and families. Pubs may be for drinking in, but they’re also for setting the world to right in. However we do it, wherever we do it, we find it in ourselves to keep going and to take action.
Salomé doesn’t purport to fight all the world’s ills - if only we could. But we do know a thing or two about creating a strong community for change. We’ve taken a good hard look at the gender inequality in publishing, and we’re building a community we respect and admire and we’re doing something which makes the inequality just that bit lesser. You - with your copy of Salomé - are part of that. Thank you.
When that van veered onto the pavement in London Bridge, I was at a beautiful wedding in the leafy suburbs of north London. I witnessed a stunning ceremony and, as people sadly had their lives taken, I was joined by crowds who hadn’t yet heard, drinking and dancing, feeling grateful for love, laughter, kindness and happiness. The majority of the wedding-goers wouldn’t hear about the attack until the next morning. So, for that night, we were sheltered in a warm bubble of love and happiness, oblivious to the pain the world was feeling. It was a beautiful sort of isolation.
Sadly, such bubbles must burst. But what we can realise is that there will always be beauty in this world, coexisting with the ugly, even when it may not feel like it.
That’s why next issue’s theme will be STRENGTH. We’ve all got it. May writing be our act of defiance, and let’s write about it.