One of the names that springs to mind when we think of strong, accomplished women is Martha Stewart.
She is not only a well-known TV personality but also a writer, businesswoman, self-made billionaire, and former fashion model.
This amazing woman is 82 years old, but she still lives life to the fullest.
She garnered a lot of attention when she bravely posed in skimpy bikinis for the Sports Illustrated cover last year. She received recognition for her courage, amazing physique, and positive energy.
But when she recently shared some pictures from her vacation to Greenland’s east coast, one of them infuriated her supporters.
“End of the first zodiac cruise from @swanhelleniccruises into a very beautiful fjord on the east coast of Greenland,” the caption reads, beside a picture of Stewart sipping a cocktail. In fact, we managed to catch a tiny iceberg for our cocktails this evening.
Her use of the term “small iceberg” to describe her drink surely wasn’t intended to enrage her admirers, but it did make them angry.
People quickly began criticizing her article in the comments section, pointing out that she had mentioned a little iceberg at a time when the “ice caps are melting.”
One Instagram user said, “Martha, the ice caps are melting. Don’t put them in your drink.”
Another said, “I generally love Martha and the excesses of her life because he’s about beautiful gardens, homes, and food, but it’s a bit tone deaf for wealthy white people to be drinking their iceberg cocktails while the planet is burning.”
Thus, millionaires take vacations to the melting icebergs, scoop them up, and use them to keep their cocktails icy as the climate warms as a result of the riches of a few thousand people. That sentence has the feel of one from a dystopian book. Can’t make this stuff up, haha,” a third said.
“Even with global warming and ice caps disappearing, we still need glacier ice for cocktails? Discuss tone def. Been a lover for years, but lately, when I’m having trouble buying groceries, I’ve seen enough caviar that I’m out,” a fourth person commented.
Generally speaking, a lot of people adore Martha.
She claimed on the Today show, “I didn’t starve myself, but I didn’t eat any bread or pasta for a couple of months,” in reference to the Sports Illustrated cover she posed for.
“It was amazing that I went to Pilates every other day, and I’m still going because it’s that good. In any case, I lead a clean life that includes a nutritious diet, regular exercise, decent skincare, and other habits.
During her keynote address at the Las Vegas event, she also discussed the reaction of the audience to the “authentic” cover.
According to Stewart, “the response was really encouraging because it gave women of all ages the confidence to believe that they could succeed too.”
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My Boss Terminated Me for Wearing Thrift Store Attire – My Colleagues Came to My Defense and Delivered a Powerful Lesson
When the company owner barged in and abruptly fired me for wearing second-hand clothes, my world imploded. Little did I know, my co-workers were planning an act that would turn everything around and emphasize the true strength of our workplace community.
Never did I think that buying clothes from a thrift store would cost me my job. But life’s full of surprises, especially when you’re a single mother struggling to make ends meet.
It began like any other Tuesday morning. I was at my desk, taking calls and welcoming clients with my usual cheer. The office buzzed with its routine hustle — keys clacking, printers working, and the aroma of fresh coffee in the air.
Kate from HR peeked around the corner. “Hey Claire, how are the kids?”
“Oh, you know,” I chuckled. “Sophie’s engrossed in her science project, and Noah’s set on memorizing every dinosaur name.”
Kate smiled. “Sounds like you have your hands full.”
“Always,” I said. “But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
Just then, the elevator chimed. The doors opened to reveal a familiar face I hadn’t seen in over a year — Victor, the company owner.
Panic surged through me. I quickly stood, smoothing my thrift store blouse. “Good morning, Mr. Harrison! Welcome back!”
Victor’s eyes narrowed at me, his expression hardening. “What are you wearing?”
I glanced at my outfit, puzzled. “I — ”
“Is this how you present yourself to our clients?” he demanded loudly. “In these… these rags?”
The office fell silent, every eye on us.
“Mr. Harrison, I — ”
“No excuses,” he interrupted. “A receptionist’s attire should reflect our brand. You’re terminated. Leave immediately.”
My world spun. “But sir, I’m a single mom. I can’t — ”
“Out!” he shouted. “Now!”
Tears stung as I gathered my belongings. Kate tried to intervene, but Victor silenced her with a glare.
The drive home was a blur. How would I explain this to Sophie and Noah? How would we survive? I unlocked our apartment door, and there they were — my little warriors.
Sophie instantly knew something was wrong. “Mom, what happened?”
I hugged them close, the smell of grape juice and play-doh soothing me. “I lost my job today, sweethearts.”
Noah hugged me tighter. “It’s okay, Mommy. We still love you.”
I stifled a sob. “I love you too, munchkins. So much.”
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