The Lenny letter, an amalgamation of co-founders Lena Dunham and Jenni Konner's names, has apparently been bubbling away for some time. It made worldwide news a few weeks back when Jennifer Lawrence guest-contributed an op-ed about equal pay for women in the movie business, sparking even male actors such as Bradley Cooper to say they need to start pushing back against disparate wage gaps.
Lenny is unashamedly a feminist publication, and for that it should be applauded. It features editorials by women, for (mostly) women, covering topics such as how to negotiate your maternity leave at a small company, how to dress like a 1970s women's lib superstar, and how to navigate the complexities of homophobic males' opinions on lesbian relationships.
The e-newsletter's content is unexpected (two weeks ago we got to read about what goes on during a "vajacial", i.e. a facial for your vagina); the week prior we had a Q&A session with second-wave feminist icon Gloria Steinem. But with such unexpectedness, Lenny gives us spectacular disappointments.
Lenny letter No. 1, containing a one-on-one interview with Hillary Clinton, is a prime example. It starts off well: Clinton is questioned about the vigorous debating that went on at her all-women's university, the staggering student debt crisis, and the fear of losing her identity in the shadow of her former president husband.
The final third of the interview, however, takes a bad turn. We end up with ten questions about Clinton's shoulders in an outfit she wore back in 1993.
If somebody above Dunham had any editorial oversight, one hopes she would've been told she'd wasted valuable journalism real estate. She squandered the chance to leave us pondering powerful, contextual feminist issues from America's potential first female president. Instead, Dunham chose to end the interview discussing Clinton's appearance.
Of course, nothing about Lenny suggests anybody has editorial control over Dunham's work (if somebody does, they're not very good at their job). Here we see the same problem as with Girls: To the audience, it reads like Dunham has been left to do whatever she wants to do, however she wants to do it.
Such editorial problems in the Lenny letter span wider than misguided interviewing. Dunham is not a journalist, and it shows in the quality of Lenny's writing. It often reads like a 16-year-old's personal blog, complete with "cool", "no way!", and "wow!" mentions and FREQUENT USE OF CAPS LOCK. Not to forget the infuriating overuse of the exclamation mark, which makes its way into Lenny's sentences incessantly.
Lenny's language, too, is problematic. Dunham is a serious auteur with prowess, influence, and power. She knows how to get people talking and make a buck doing it. However the frequency of crass language in journalism - especially multiple citations of the F-word - doesn't suggest seriousness.
It doesn't tell the world your issues are important, or your voice is powerful. All it does is affronts and distracts us, leaving only the impression that you don't understand the nuance of superlatives beyond street-talk, nor the potency of the F-word when it is actually editorially valuable to your story.
Editorial issues aside, Lenny presents a bigger concern. Contrary to popular belief, Generation Y isn't as self-indulgent as we're supposed to be, but having Dunham as one of our loudest voices does nothing to dissuade this stereotype.
We're sorry, Dunham, but when your lead article is a running commentary of your past Halloween costumes (see Lenny letter No. 5), you disappoint us by failing to change our narrative and tell the world we're more than selfies and self-analyses.
It's invigorating to see an antiquated form of communication reborn, and Lenny has the potential to be something great for both feminism and Generation Y-at-large.
Let's hope it stops all this squandering, and starts acting like the authoritative medium we are once again desperate for.
