with its next-generation successor, the HBO series Girls (2012– )—focused almost exclusively on white,
economically privileged women, and thus did little to dismantle stereotypes about who the beneficiaries
of feminism were. In order to find a more diverse representation of women and of feminist issues,
viewers often had to turn to smaller, independent films, like Real Women Have Curves (2002), a film
about one young working-class Latina’s journey to self-acceptance, directed by Colombian American
filmmaker Patricia Cardoso.
Perhaps one of the biggest changes in popular culture over the last two decades has been the
emergence of women (and often feminist) comedians into the previously all-male world of stand-up
comedy and comedy writing. Women like writer-actress-producer Tina Fey used humor to challenge
sexism and misogyny and to astutely reflect on what passed for gender equality in the twenty-first century.
On the inaugural episode of Fey’s critically acclaimed series 30 Rock (2006–13), which she wrote, her
alter ego, Liz Lemon, is described as “a third-wave feminist,” and over the course of the series Fey
humorously poked fun at modern womanhood and the media-hyped crisis over “having it all.” Other
feminist comedians during this period included Mindy Kaling, Sarah Silverman, Wanda Sykes, and
Margaret Cho, who famously summed up her generation’s entitlement: “If you say you’re not a feminist
you’re almost denying your own existence. To be a feminist is to be alive.”
The rise of what was dubbed “girlie feminism” during this period provides an interesting lens through
which to examine what had changed in feminists’ relationship to femininity since the 1960s and ’70s.
“Girlie feminism” embraced many aspects of traditional femininity on an aesthetic level—wearing
dresses, makeup, and high heels, for example—while insisting that the conscious wearing of such
feminine garb did not signal that a woman was brainwashed by the patriarchy. Many younger feminists
argued that they no longer felt constrained by gender, which they viewed as a social construction rather
than a biological fact, and they were thus free to enjoy the pleasures of “girlie” femininity without feeling
oppressed. Some went as far as to argue that adopting a feminine style was a way of rebelling against the
androgynous uniform mandated by an earlier era of feminists. As one young feminist argued, “Unlike my
first- and second-wave predecessors, no one force-fed me femininity. Quite the contrary: I had to fight for
it tooth and nail.”^54 This “girlie” aesthetic—often performed with a knowing wink—can be seen in much
of the iconography and language used by this generation. For example, the blog Feministing chose as its
logo an ironic appropriation of the traditional “mudflap girl,” reworking this sexist image (commonly
found on the mudflaps of trucks) by having its “girl” give the viewer the middle finger. Likewise, Bust
magazine routinely featured cover models in traditionally feminine sexualized poses, such as the pin up
girl, while advocating feminist, progressive points of view. The reclaiming of the word “girl”—
sometimes as a growling “grrrl”—and the use of terms like “lady blogger” also were signs that this
generation had an ironic detachment from the linguistic markers that had defined earlier generations, when
feminists fought for female adults to be recognized as mature and capable women not child-like girls.