I recently had the most debilitating experience of reading #Girlboss by Sophia Amoruso. As evident from the title, the former Nasty Gal CEO’s book was released back in 2014 to satisfy the millennial thirst for relatable celebrity content. Adorned in pink and inspirational quotes, it was clear that quality was not Amoruso’s checklist.
In a weak attempt to be relatable to the average woman, Amoruso recounts her ‘rags to riches’ story of going from dumpster-diving to running a multi-million dollar fashion giant. She scorns at her previous anarchistic self, lamenting on how she used to view capitalism as the ‘big bad’ and slate the 1% of society for their selfish money-making ways. If you’re looking for an example of irony, this book is exactly what you need.
To give some context for my criticism, Sophia Amoruso stepped down from her role as CEO of Nasty Gal in January 2015 and, in November of the following year, the company applied for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. Rumours of workplace harassment and mistreatment later began to spiral, with a 2015 lawsuit claiming that Nasty Gal had illegally fired four women for getting pregnant. Regardless, Amoruso went on to found ‘Girlboss’ in 2017, a company designed to create content for millennial women to “progress as people in their personal and professional life”. Much like Amoruso’s ideology, this was flimsy and short lived, seeing her leave the company in 2020 due to pandemic cuts. Throughout her career, Amoruso has attempted to maintain her image as an ambitious strong-headed entrepreneur, naming herself as ‘The’ Girlboss’ in her statement after her empire’s pandemic collapse. However, she leaves behind a legacy of privilege, malpractice, and fast fashion. It appears that Amoruso built her way to ‘girlbosshood’, but promptly pulled the ladder up behind her.
Despite my hateful tone, some elements of Amoruso’s book are somewhat inspiring. Her motivation to start renovating vintage clothes and sell them on eBay in a one-woman show is a noteworthy feat. The hours, days, weeks and months that she poured into her independent business definitely paid off. I enjoyed the snippets of interviews with female peers and co-workers who had similar journeys to her, and her tips toward securing employment were helpful for a girl who is about to graduate in six months. Above all, ‘#Girlboss’ gave me a lot of material to work with for my dissertation, which exists to critique Girlboss Feminism as a whole – a backhanded compliment rather fitting for a backhanded book.
Looking back upon the era of the #Girlboss in 2023, it is easy to see through this millennial pink cash grab disguised as empowerment. This reoccurring rhetoric of “just try a bit harder!” has faltered, especially since the mass critique of capitalism and the working world since the pandemic. As much as I would love to live in a world where careers were not our main goal, I need to afford rent somehow. However, the 2020s have collectively opened our eyes to the superficiality of the #Girlboss, and the futility of equating female empowerment to financial prosperity.