The Argument Against Girl Boss

My husband and I decided to spend a weekend afternoon strolling a quaint shopping district in our city. It’s a small street lined with mom-and-pop boutiques that offer high-end home furnishings and vintage clothing mixed with a few neighborhood bars and hipster eateries. After having a refreshing beverage by the river, we decided to make our way back to our car which was parked outside of a women’s clothing shop. Proudly displayed in its window was a simple white t-shirt with the words “Girl Boss” emblazoned across the front. I instantly cringed. I’ve raged against that phrase for some time, but on this occasion my husband decided to ask why I’d be opposed to something meant to empower women. Simply put, because it doesn’t.

I cannot remember the first time I became acquainted with the phrase, but I do remember shrugging it off—there would be no way that this sexist phrase would engrain itself into our modern feminist movement. Unfortunately, I was wrong. I started seeing friends, those who are true bosses, fully embrace this attempt at placation. I quickly grew as frustrated with them as I did the moniker. When I had a chance to air my grievances face-to-face, I would with good results, but I never attempted to have this conversation online for obvious reasons. Social media has become a deluge of idiocy where people only comprehend enough just to write their next irate post. What was the point?

But I cannot let this go. This is an important conversation that needs to be had. Why is “Girl Boss” a thing?

Speaking to solely to those feminists who’ve embraced this appellation, would you allow yourself to be referred to “girl” anything else? No. Never. The idea of being designated into another category where we are “separate but equal” from men is abhorrent. Why is this any different? We’d never allow ourselves to be thought of us as “Girl Educators” or “Girl Politicians.” The fact is, this phrase is another way of lessening what we are. Educators. Leaders. CEOs. Future Presidents. Bosses.

Approximately ten years ago, I was laid off from a job that I loathed. I was a call center manager for a small nonprofit, and while the work we did is important, the Founder/CEO was an utter muttonhead. He’d castrated me from any power and made it impossible for me to implement any sort of rules or expectations. After my release I was inconsolable. Even though every time I walked into my office I was physically ill from the daily barrage of being put down because I was a superior leader compared to the founder, I took it as a personal slight. It didn’t help that this happened during the 2008 economic downturn and regaining significant employment was nearly impossible. What was I to do? I did like many in my position at that time; I became my own boss.

It took some time, but after leaving my former employer I created my own photography business. I started covering concerts and eventually moved into wedding photography. I was good at my job and had a great word-of-mouth client base that kept me occupied and most importantly, in the black. I built this business from scratch and busted my ass to gain recognition for my work. I was proud of my Five Star ratings on all major wedding directories; I’d truly put the blood, sweat and tears into making this a thriving and growing business. No one ever looked at me and thought, “oh, she’s doing well for a girl wedding photographer,” nor should they have. Without any qualifiers I was becoming successful. Looking back now, had anyone tried to tell me I was a “girl boss,” there would have been words. No dammit, I wasn’t a girl boss, I was THE BOSS. I’d made all the same decisions to elevate my company that any boss, male or female, would have done. I invested the same time, energy and equity that the male photographers had, and I was on their level, so why do they get to be “boss” and I get to be “girl boss”? That doesn’t work for me and it shouldn’t for you.

We women are routinely regulated into our own industries. We have the WNBA, WPGA, Best Actress awards and so on. We are told through sports and entertainment that we must be in different groups because we cannot compete with men. If anyone watched the 2018 television awards season, one thing was crystal clear—women ruled. We saw the rise of women-led television programming taking the spotlight. Shows like The Handmaid’s Tale and Big Little Lies reigned supreme. Nicole Kidman, Ann Dowd, and the great Elizabeth Moss were told they best of the best in their respected categories of other women performers, but they were never offered the luxury of being just the best. Their dramas earned the recognition of beating out male-led stalwarts, but our brilliantly talented actresses are still not shown enough respect to let them go head-to-head with the likes of DeNiro and McGregor. If anyone truly believes that Moss would have lost to Ewan McGregor, please sit down.

And this is the crux of the issue. We will never be considered equal if we keep allowing ourselves to be placed into subgenres. We are the leads in our own stories. We are June, not Offred. We are BOSSES! If you own a Girl Boss shirt, I implore you to keep it, but make a major modification. Get rid of the term “girl”; hell, we’re WOMEN anyway. Use a sharpie, duct tape, whatever you have, and proudly proclaim that you are the mother-effing-boss! In a world where there are no “boy bosses,” please, for the love of all the that is feminist, don’t allow yourself to be anything less than what you are. You are the boss. Do you hear me, THE BOSS. Own it. Be empowered by it and never settle for anything less.