Don’t call me a girl boss

Believe me, it’s not a compliment

Graphic Joey Bruce

So I’m sure you’ve seen it before; probably on your friend’s pinterest board, or in the home decor section of Walmart. The term girl boss. Maybe you’re more familiar with boss babe or lady boss? You know, feminism, but make it capitalist.

So I’m sure you’ve seen it before; probably on your friend’s pinterest board, or in the home decor section of Walmart. The term girl boss. Maybe you’re more familiar with boss babe or lady boss? You know, feminism, but make it capitalist.

The term was popularized to our generation in 2014 with the publishing of online clothing store Nasty Gal founder Sophia Amoruso’s autobiography #girlboss.

Since then, the expression became the new cool title everyone would self-proclaim.

But what even is a girl boss?

The top definition for girl boss on Urban Dictionary goes as follows: “girl youtubers and bloggers who get something for nothing by being all 'girlboss' and contacting brands for freebies.”

Ouch.

This very much contrasts the second top definition from the same site that classifies a girl boss as “a woman in control, taking charge of her own circumstances in work & life. Someone who knows her worth and won't accept anything less. She is not a ‘mean girl’ in fact, she hates ‘mean girls.’ She is empowering and inspiring to those around her. She kicks ass!”

As much as this definition is filled with misogyny, it sounds nice. Who wouldn’t want to be told they are in control, empowering and inspiring?

Considering all the coffee mugs and phone cases that are sold with this slogan plastered all over it, this must have hit a cord for some people.

I have to admit, I used to find it empowering.

Yeah, I used to want to be a girl bosses

All my life I have been praised for doing mundane things that boys would also do without getting praised.  Somehow the fact that I was a girl and “made it that far in the competition” or was “the only girl to be on that team” was something to be proud of.

It’s written in the imaginary rule-book: girls who have boyfriends and do not want to own a company cannot be girl bosses. Therefore since I was career-driven, it made me a special type of girl, a girl boss.

It felt empowering because everything I had come to know of the word girl had seemed negative up until that point.

“You run like a girl.”

“You’re too girly.”

“She’s just a girl.”

The term girl boss was for me, and for many other girls and women, a way to reappropriate the word with a positive connotation.

But now, I just find it condescending.

First, we have “girl”; not woman, girl.

It screams childhood and vulnerability which creepily reinforces ideas pertaining to patriarchy and women being submissive.

Not only does this infantilize women, but it also changes the impact of the word “boss.” 

Women who reach positions of power appear less intimidating to men because the term girl has been associated with weakness, fragility and delicateness.

You’re not a boss, you’re a girl boss.

But why can’t I just be a boss?

Because it is important for me to acknowledge that my gender did not get in the way of my success. If so, then why aren’t we talking about how my other inherent privileges got me there?

The girl boss trope can be seen as a movement of empowerment, but it never really addressed anything of substance.

Part of the club

We can agree that the use of the term girl boss started as a celebration of women who get high positions of power in male dominated environments such as politics or business.

Right now, you are probably picturing someone, or multiple people in your head with this idea of girl boss in mind. Tell me, are those girl bosses white? Cis-gender? Straight? Skinny? Conventionally beautiful? Middle to upper class?

Women who self-proclaim themselves girl bosses most likely do not address their own privileges which got them their positions of power. Instead, they use their one area of oppression as their ticket to the girl boss club.

Their speeches of empowerment are filled with hypocrisy as intersectionality is rarely brought into the conversation.

I’m sure you’ve heard it before. It goes like this: “Everyone can do this, because look at me, I’m a woman and I did it.”

And with those words of encouragement, we are supposed to believe that every black woman, every trans woman, every disabled woman, can just as easily be a girl boss too, if she just believes.

Where to go from here

The girl boss trope can be seen as a movement of empowerment, but it never really addressed anything of substance.

Real problems as to why women struggle so much in the workforce, such as sexual harassment, the glass ceiling effect, child care and gender-based division of labour, were never a part of the equation.

Girl boss is just a marketing team’s dream. It makes us think it uplifts women without having to address the roots of the problem.

Take for example, the oh-so instagramable women’s co-working space The Wing which champions itself for creating work spaces for women.

With pink chairs, pinterest-worthy decor and mirrors everywhere since apparently women are always worried about their appearance, this place looks perfect for girl bosses.

However, CEO Audrey Gelman had to step down after being accused by employees of colour of superficial diversity and making Black and Brown women feel insignificant.

Indeed, the accusations had been going on for years before a black member wrote on Instagram in the summer of 2019 that she finds the Wing to be a “majority-white capitalist co-working space” after being harassed by a white woman there.

Wouldn’t a place like The Wing who is the embodiment of girl boss feminism, want to include, I don’t know, ALL women in their feminism?

It’s 2021. What we need is policy change, equal opportunities and equal pay for all women, not girl boss notebooks and quirky quotes on a pink background.