The price of privilege - the rise and fall of Man Repeller
I can still remember the first time I ran my eyes over the iconic Man Repeller home screen.
The sparkling eyes of aspirational writers and models dressed to the nines in eccentric ensembles stared back at me, headlines were a cacophony of words and phrases I’d never heard before but felt strangely familiar and the topics they broached reeled me in instantly for all their specificity and outlandishness.
I was somewhere in the middle of my journalism degree and my best uni mate, which I had clung onto for dear life since orientation, introduced me to the culture, fashion and beauty conglomerate website. From that day, my ambitions for writing, and especially my place within the industry, started to take a course that actually started to make sense.
I’ve always wanted to write but felt too fashion-y to be a news reporter and too interested in culture and politics to be a clothing and beauty copywriter but Man Repeller proved to me that I could have both.
Coming across the website filled a hole for me, a hole I wasn’t even aware existed. For the next three or so years, I started subconsciously directing my writing, career aspirations, interests and even opinions around this content I so ravenously consumed.
While I enjoyed New York’s other voice for culture and fashion, The Cut, and home-grown publications like Oyster, RUSSH, Catalogue, Pedestrian and Frankie tickled my itch for current happenings and interesting stories, they never quite scratched it the way Man Repeller did.
For all their similarities - the easy-to-read and balanced humorously yet witty tone, the mix of light hearted and hard hitting content and the specific pop culture focus – through my rose-coloured glasses nothing could compare.
The name, although bordering on confusing to older generations and slightly off putting to men, made sense to me. It was a space for diving head first into topics that would usually be considered guilty pleasures to those that occupied largely masculine spaces. It was a place where I not only devoured content that, at times, felt like it was written specifically for me, but also a space for me as a writer to admire the uniquely genuine tone of each of the platform’s star voices.
I not only loved the content, I wanted to emulate it.
I could continue for pages about how religiously I followed all of the key players on Instagram, aggressively liking each post, or how I woke up in the morning and the first thing I’d do was refresh the site to see what poppy analytical content I could devour but I’m aware I’m giving off a bit of an obsessive vibe. All of this in mind, the blind love and devotion, the sheer admiration I had for the publication and those employed there, made the subsequent heartbreak that much more shattering.
Founder of Man Repeller, Leandra Medine Cohen, created the site in 2010 during her studies as a fun style blog. For the almost decade long rule the independent publication had over the industry, Cohen was perceived by many to be the dream boss, one who writes and pitches alongside her staff, promotes a fun, yet assiduous environment and even encouraged her staff to pursue hobbies and side businesses outside of work. She portrayed a brand of salacious intelligence, one that was effortlessly witty to the core and forever ahead of the curve. Her public appeal perfectly embodied that of a ‘girl boss’, the brand of tough feminism Sophia Amaruso tried so hard to claim which was trending in the mid 2010s.
However, all the snappy editorials and quirky patterns clashing in the world couldn’t hide her from the onslaught of allegations that came her way earlier this year. Like many other successful yet problematic founders around her, as 2020’s Black Lives Matter movement gathered speed so too did stories of harassment, discrimination and abuse from the Man Repeller office.
After publishing her response on behalf of the company to the deaths, the protests and the injustices, titled, Where We Go From Here: A Message for the MR Community outlining plans to support the movement and diversify the workplace, her words were met with conflicting tales.
“Why have all your Black and POC staff left/been fired? How do you prioritize wealth over people? Based on your actions thus far, this isn’t commitment — it’s public relations,” one reader commented on the post.
Another user added, “The lack of diversity amongst the staff is something that needs to be seriously addressed at the highest levels. Hiring (and potentially tokenizing) new staff is not enough. The entire culture of the company needs to be re-examined as you seem to lose POC staff and Queer staff at an astounding rate.”
Noticing this early backlash, Cohen attempted to pick up the pieces with a follow up post that offered some remnants of an apology for her “insufficient explanation” on her projected changes to Man Repeller’s operations. Totally backfiring, this response only added fuel to the fire and prompted a former employee to speak out against the famed founder.
Ex-Man Repeller team member Sabrina Santiago wrote, “As a former POC employee that was let go during COVID-19, this ‘apology’ is a slap in the face. I have not been reached out to in any capacity. I hope everyone sees that this is another performative attempt to cover racist actions.”
In what seemed to be the final straw for Cohen’s public reputation, she quickly ran to Instagram and in a brief statement announced her resignation from her role as editor. She said, “The team deserves a chance to show you what Man Repeller can be with me on the side lines so I’m going to step back and let them show you.”
With Cohen no longer at the helm, the website went through the washing machine, coming out the other side with a new bold look, a new name - ‘Repeller’, and a list of new and obviously racially diverse executives and content creators. The move was cringingly absent of self-awareness and totally missed the mark for many.
To little surprise, the re-model didn’t last long and in what seemed like a spiteful final takedown, as of 23 October 2020, Man Repeller, Repeller and Cohen’s legacy was announced cancelled, this time, for good. Although the publication’s archives are still standing, what’s left is a fateful attempt to salvage reputations and an eerie reminder that the site is no longer being updated.
As an emerging writer, this overtly public downfall taught me a thing or two about dream jobs. Like relationships, if you convince yourself everything is perfect, you’re always going to find you’re disappointed when the lust wears off.
For me, and I’m sure many others blinded by sheer admiration for Man Repeller, the bad parts were always there, I just refused to see them. The red flags were omnipresent but the fantasy that Leandra, Harling, Haley and the others pedalled distracted me from what was really going on.
In reflecting on the situation, Melbourne writer Bianca O’Neill wrote, “Man Repeller has always been a beacon of white female exclusivity,” and as I sat in sadness over the downfall of my favourite publication and wallowing in my own privilege, I realised this is something I’m only now just grasping with. O’Neill said she was surprised anyone could have been surprised about Cohen’s allegations of racist behaviour, but I was and that’s the root of the problem.
Although slightly embarrassed, I’m not afraid to admit that I bought into it this white, affluent fantasy because I know I’m not alone. I could put it down to age, inexperience, lack of fully formed opinions and beliefs, but really, I think my surprise lies in the fact that I identified with Cohen (or at least I wanted to) and fell prey to the visage of this breed of lifestyle marketing.
It took me a long time to realise it, but what I was admiring most wasn’t Man Repeller’s writing style, polished tone of voice or daring fits but it was the wealth and privilege all along. It’s all it came down to, I wanted to be them, I wanted their money and the time and the energy to spend writing extensive think pieces about frivolous pop culture news.
After nursing my heartbreak over Man Repeller and enduring some hard lessons of my own this year, I’m on the path towards empowering myself and my beliefs rather than striving to emulate those I deem successful. Because if this year has taught us anything, it’s that this type of aspirational success is often built on the back of those less fortunate, especially if the power is in the hands of whiteness.
While the glossy fashion magazine fantasy I had always dreamt of ceases to exist anymore, I can finally admit it’s for the better because a fantasy fuelled by exclusion and affluence is only a fantasy for some, and a nightmare for others.
Words — Ruby Staley
