So Lena Dunham’s body may not do anything for you. Different strokes, etc. You may even choose not to be a complete asshole about it, and that’s commendable if we were to truly maintain a low bar on how to be a decent person—you’re not saying douchey things about someone’s appearance, bravo! None of this changes the fact that for a lot of people, her defiant display of comfort in her own body is inspiring, even moving.
I can’t speak specifically to the experience of being a woman, given my male identity, but what I can do and try to do is defer to what seem to be persuasive accounts of the effect Dunham’s sensibilities have had on the state of female depiction in contemporary TV and movies. That means that when there are numerous articles written by women describing the sense of hope, freedom and newfound self-comfort in their physical appearance in the midst of a culture that disproportionately targets and preys upon female looks, I’ll take them at their word, and appreciate the effect Girls has had on countless viewers by proxy, if not completely personally.
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