Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, can you save us from being hot messes?
We were no longer strong women facing messy situations. We became the mess.
My daughter and I were watching “Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” when Midge Maisel pulled out her measuring tape and began to write down the size of her ankles, calves, and thighs. While she checked her proportions, we laughed at the ridiculousness of it.
Then my daughter said, “Actually. I kind of like that she’s vain and not shallow. She has substance. They don’t make characters like that.” I looked at the beautiful young woman next to me and smiled. She grew up with the train wrecks of Miley Cyrus and Lindsay Lohan. Now she inhabits the world of Lena Dunham and Amy Schumer—highly talented women who love to portray themselves as hot messes.
I’ve been having an ongoing conversation with Cindy Wang Brandt about this “hot mess” phenomenon in our world of religious writing. (Cindy sent this to me this morning.) I first felt it when I was looking for agents. I had countless conversations about my marketability as a human. My brand. My hook. I was told, “Don’t write that you’re a pastor. Women pastors don’t sell.”
