Trending through popular social media feeds at every turn as of late, has been the proudly emboldened phrase “#Girlboss.”
A term popularized by Nasty Gal clothing company founder — and rags to riches self-starter — Sophia Amoruso.
This term has been utilized by scores of women since, who feel inspired by its surface-level intent.
Amoruso’s seemingly empowering book — and the Netflix series that it spawned — are both examples of proposed feminism that have about as much depth as a toilet bowl.
It appeals to absolutely everyone because its meaning is perpetuated to be sunny and unassuming.
“#Girlboss” gives the impression of a condescending adult bending down to the level of a smiley, naive little girl and telling her that she can be whatever she wants one day, even if it’s something as ridiculously unachievable as the CEO of a clothing company.
It’s a pat-on-the-head, patronizing thumbs-up that has no real meaning behind it. Rather, it’s a way to make everyone feel like they’re an active supporter of the feminist movement, especially in the age of the modern, working-class woman.
Girlboss as a show lands in it’s own separate category of vapid self-entitlement.
It is driven by a main character who is nothing but a narcissistic child that masks her shitty behaviour behind a guise of constantly stressed independence.
Her continuously questionable decisions are justified as a necessity for her to thrive as a successful business woman in a male-dominated society overrun with assholes.
I don’t have a problem with characters — specifically female ones — who can be inherently unlikeable, even if they are the central focus on their own show.
However, Girlboss has crafted one of the most instantaneously annoying, infuriatingly self-absorbed screen presences that I’ve seen since Hannah Horvath on HBO’s Girls.
A discernable difference between these two fictional women though, is that Sophia Amoruso is intended to be a role model and example for young feminists everywhere.
Her continuous instances of immaturity, law-breaking (she seems to steal whatever she can get her hands on), complete disregard for basic social graces and overall attitude towards life don’t make her seem anything but annoying.
This again is in contrast to the savvy queen of achievement she is demonstrated to be.
It appeals to absolutely everyone because its meaning is perpetuated to be sunny and unassuming.
The message that stands behind success should not be wrapped in a bubble of rudeness that makes someone seem like a no-bullshit kind of leader.
It also should not be such a deep-rooted obnoxiousness that you can’t stand a word coming from a person’s mouth because they sound so incredibly whiny and selfish.
Regardless of your gender, being an asshole who sits on their own throne of arrogance will only mark you as someone to be disrespected.
This idea is exemplified by the real life Amoruso; Her gritty, grungy business style that matches her company’s clothes isn’t as faultless as it may seem at first glance.
Despite the hands-on-the-hips portrait of resilience that sits defiantly on the cover of her book, Amoruso’s company has come under fire for various reasons over the last few years.
Between filing for bankruptcy, numerous employee layoffs, complaints about working conditions and management styles and even Amoruso stepping down as CEO of her own company, her #Girlboss image takes quite the hit when it doesn’t match up to her actions off of the pages.
The countless issues that are connected with Girlboss as a show, a trend and as a standard for women everywhere, help to further the idea that women have to follow specific ideals in order to achieve success.
Be whatever kind of boss you want to be. Or don’t be one at all.
It’s up to you how you take charge of your own life and I certainly wouldn’t use Sophia Amoruso as an example of how to do it the #Girlboss way.
