In recent years, the “girlboss,” female empowerment slogan has taken pop culture and social media by storm. The term was coined by entrepreneur and Nasty Gal founder, Sophia Amoruso. Her 2014 autobiography #Girlboss led to the start of Girlboss Media, a woman-driven content production company, as well as the show Girlboss based on the autobiography. Shortly after, the term was popularized on social media and quickly spread through the use of “#girlboss.” While holding different meanings, the girlboss can best be described as an ambitious, hard-working woman whose goal is to climb-up or excel within the corporate sphere. She’s assertive, attractive, works long hours, sports an oversized fast fashion blazer, and does not back down. However, at the end of the day, the girlboss means something different to every woman. That’s what makes it so powerful; it is a feminist corporate fantasy.
Why is it that in 2022, hearing that word or hashtag makes us cringe? Why do we tend to see it in ironic and comedic contexts? While originally brought forth as a slogan of female empowerment within hustle culture, the word soon dipped in popularity. Is girlboss a tool of empowerment, or does it conceal the patriarchal structures that feminist movements are trying to dismantle?
Girlboss is not the first feminist corporate movement. In 2013, Sheryl Sandberg’s book Lean In analyzed why women in business leadership roles are still underrepresented. She also emphasizes individual action as a means to tackle gender inequality in the workplace. The book does address the numerous challenges women face in the workforce: the difficulties of balancing a family and a career, the pervasiveness of sexism in the workplace, etc. However, Sandberg’s research argues that while women face external obstacles, their internal obstacle, not having the self-confidence that men do, is what holds them back from achieving gender equality. Sandberg concludes that the solution is to negotiate like a man. As we fast forward a decade, we find that Sandberg’s movement was a precursor for the girlboss wave: a self-help, self-motivated action toward achieving gender equality. While it is clear that both of these movements have inspired some women and given them the confidence to excel and strive for their goals, the girlboss is a contested feminist icon.
To understand why the girlboss may be doing more harm than good, we need to look at who the movement is aimed towards and the structures and values it upholds.
One key fault of the movement is that it is marketed as an empowering word that falsely promises that being a girlboss equals obtaining success and money. Unfortunately, being a girlboss does not erase the structural obstacles women face within the corporate world. Seeing young girls using the word and hashtag on social media may inspire them to break the glass ceiling, but at its core it is a digestible feminist slogan that presents a one-dimensional approach to succeeding in the corporate world. If we really dive into the word’s message, it projects a neoliberal expectation of being personally responsible for your struggles and success. It puts the responsibility onto individual women to close the wage gap, to negotiate their maternity leave, and to handle gender discrimination in the workplace. Sure, a girlboss can advocate for structural changes within corporate culture, but the word itself does nothing to allude to the imperative need for changes within patriarchal corporate structures.
The girlboss movement encourages women to join a broken system and climb up on their own against their counterparts, not to dismantle the system that sees and treats women, especially women of colour, as inferior. While venture capital has increased for Black women, it only represented 0.34% of the total venture capital spent in the U.S. in 2021. The lack of representation of women of colour within venture capital has unfortunately put Black women-owned businesses in a position that makes it more difficult to get loans or faith from investors. The combination of general lack of resources and capital has disproportionately affected Black women’s ability to gain the tools and support needed to succeed in the business world. A 2019 American Express report, reveals that Black-women-owned companies are averaging USD$24,000 in revenues in comparison to USD$142,900 among all women-owned companies. The root of the issue can ultimately be found in the way that businesses are funded, not in “how hard” a woman works. These structural barriers are faced by other marginalized groups as well, including individuals who do not identify as women, but face similar treatment in society and in the workplace (afab, non-binary, non-conforming, and two-spirit individuals). The girlboss facade tells us that all women can succeed, but fails to acknowledge the structural barriers that marginalized women and individuals will face in the entrepreneurial and corporate spheres.
Furthermore, succeeding as a woman in the workplace does not inherently make you a feminist, nor does becoming a female CEO make you a boss who is fighting for equitable pay or a safe, inclusive work culture. If women are encouraged to climb-up the corporate ladder “like a man”, they will inevitably step on women of colour. We can see this phenomenon with the stepping down of top-female CEOs who were accused of promoting toxicity and discrimination within their work places. In 2020, Yael Aflalo, the founder of the fashion brand Reformation, resigned due to allegations of racism and poor working conditions for BIPOC in her company. In the same year, Glossier’s Emily Weiss also stepped down due to an anonymous call out of long-standing racial and managerial issues. The girlboss movement serves white, wealthy, college educated women. The corporate feminism that has inspired the girlboss movement is a performative attempt at providing a solution for women’s obstacles in the work place. Furthermore, by marketing it as something that has to do with “hard work” rather than privilege, race, wealth, or connections, women face a distorted work-place reality that is amplified by unrealistically perfect social media posts.
Samhita Mukhopadhyay, former executive at Teen Vogue makes the observation that “even without the girlboss archetype to point to, we haven’t stopped being ambitious, and we haven’t stopped living in a system that doesn’t serve us.” The girlboss wave has inspired women to claim their place in the corporate world, but it has not served everyone equally. Is it a perfect feminist template for success? No. Is there a one-size fits all approach to success? Probably not. We may never find a perfect way to normalize women’s ambition and drive within the corporate lifestyle, but we can educate girls on the real and persisting inequalities that they will face, and encourage them to uplift themselves as well as their female counterparts.
Edited by Kimberly Nicholson
Charlotte is a third year student studying Political Science and International Development. She has been a Staff Writer for Catalyst for the past year. She is interested in Indigenous Issues, Canadian news, and topics involving feminism and media.