Others, including some who left prior to what many employees referred to as “Settlement” in June, have been struck by the speed of Man Repeller’s demise and feel that the formwork is the job of the many women who built it have minimized. “I think it’s a disservice if it goes away as it is and if people’s voices don’t come out,” said another former employee. Anderson calls her former coworkers “some of the smartest, brightest, and nicest people I’ve ever worked with”.
“I’m sure they put a lot of manpower and money into the rebranding,” said the second former employee, who left the company before it was implemented, “and didn’t even give it a chance to be successful before the end of the year.” read as bizarre abrupt and premature. “
Medine Cohen declined repeated requests for comment, but the source close to the company says that after her Instagram announcement in June, Medine Cohen took a backseat role at the company and offered no creative input. “Leandra didn’t tell [the team] to do the rebranding, ”says this person. The remaining leadership team, which consisted of four people responsible for editing, sales, partnerships and operations, made that decision and carried it out after Medine Cohen resigned.
But a month later the page was ready. Like almost every other media company, Man Repeller’s advertising business was battered by the pandemic, but for years had another shared challenge to contend with: how to develop one’s identity in a turbulent political landscape. In the end, the original page on the power of personal style had tried too much to do with clothing.
It’s not an exaggeration to say that Man Repeller changed the way millennial women dress. The website was launched in 2010 after a decade of celebrities in bandage dresses, high heels, and sexy sloppy velor tracksuits with the aim of advocating the whimsical and even ugly. Crazy blouses, wild mixes of prints, oversized silhouettes, faux pas like “FUPAs” and “birth goggles”: For Man Repeller, these were the foundations of a perfect wardrobe and a philosophy of dressing. For a generation of women who grew up with Jezebel and watched Sex and the City reruns, it was liberating to think about fashion that way. “I have a feeling that the man repeller ethos isn’t about fashion,” Medine Cohen told New York Magazine in a 2014 profile. “It’s a lot more about a woman who is comfortable in her own skin, and we use fashion as a vehicle to discuss this feeling of self-confidence. “
She hit a nerve. Over time, Man Repeller expanded from a one-woman blog run by Medine Cohen, a New School student, to a 15-person business selling merch, podcast, and pop-up shops from shiny Nolita -Office space produced. Man Repeller pioneered a new style of fashion writing that used the Aughts’ signature women’s media format – the personal essay – to promote style discourse. “I felt the same way many women do about man repellers,” says Anderson. It was “this room where women could talk about fashion, and it [was] not seen as vapid. “
From its inception, Man Repeller has been widely viewed as an antidote to the nifty, self-serious legacy publications dealing with fashion. “When she started this blog, it was like the heyday of bloggers replacing front-row editors and celebrities,” says Irina Aleksander, who disrespectfully profiled Medine Cohen in 2010 for the New York Times Style section about what she’s cool made. She was a bit like the Nora Ephron of fashion bloggers. The second former contributor adds that the website’s approach to fashion and beauty was “revolutionary,” citing an early post in which Medine Cohen wrote about not wearing makeup.