I never watched Girls. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Well, actually, a few weekends ago my husband and I were drinking on our Saturday night with the kid in bed and I drunkenly suggested we give it a try as it was featured on Amazon Prime. We made it 5 minutes in and I demanded we shut it off.
It's official - I cannot stand Lena Dunham. Don't get me wrong, I totally support what she stands for in several regards. Feminist. Unapologetic. A REAL symbol of what women look like and her confidence of not giving a fuck if it offends anyone. Between her and Amy Schumer, it's really refreshing to see women who are not afraid of being larger than a size 6 and refusing to apologize for it. I can totally 150% get behind that. And her sexuality, too. Because women aren't all size 0's, and they do have sex. And we shouldn't have to fucking apologize for it or pretend not to be who we are, while men can go spit their seed wherever the fuck they want. Ok, tangent girl power rant aside, Lena Dunham fucking annoys the hell out of me. She's beyond self-absorbed, (without even realizing it!). She grew up beyond privileged, (again, without even realizing it!), and stumbled upon success because she can write about herself and apparently people give a shit about privileged hip white girls. I wanted to, I'll admit it, but I don't. Because, shut up you guys. I never liked Entourage, either. That was kind of the male HBO equivalent, but more 'glamorous?" Or maybe not at all. I don't know. I just can't fucking stand her.
So I read her memoir because again, I needed reading material, and thought maybe I'd like her. I liked her feminist I dont give a fuck attitude and I appreciated her breaking out and being chubby and naked all the time. Go chubby naked women! Go get it, girl! But I did not want to read hundreds of pages about her discovering pebbles in her little sister's vagina, her adventures of entitlement working for a children's clothing boutique doing nothing, PAGES, LITERALLY PAGES of her fucking diet diary - days of what she ate, (WHO WANTS TO READ THAT!!), and essays upon essays repeating the same instances or her OCD. She was just - so. self. absorbed. And it's a memoir, I get it. But she spins it as "Lessons Learned" for other girls. Like girls can learn anything from her blunders. And I'll admit, some of her experiences were almost relatable, but mostly not. And the few I could relate to didn't teach me anything I didn't already know.In fact, I didn't learn shit. And just thinking about the time I lost reading about her "lessons learned," (UGH) makes me angry. Because unlike Lena, I had to actually try at my jobs and work hard, even during jobs in high school which were (wah wah) not pursuing my passion. Because I'm not an entitled spoiled kid growing up in a brownstown in New York.
Maybe if you're a fan of Girls, and Lena Dunham, this book will be more enjoyable. For me? I've gone through my own roller coasters of emotional trauma in college years, fluctuations of weight loss/gain, esteem troubles with men and myself. And I worked fucking hard. I learned lessons myself, through experiencing my own life. All I learned from her is that I'm not interested and beyond exasperated.
My rating: 2/10. And that's generous.
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