Think of all the black girls you’ve ever dreamed of that might appear on your TV screen weekly, and you may not even get close to the Kat Edison character yet.. In The bold type Kat, played by Aisha Dee, occupies a unique and consistent role as a black main character known for her cheeky sense and self-celebration. The joy imbued in this fully developed character helped make The bold type a very different fantasy than it initially seemed to be. A series that was marketed as a Net-a-Porter mobile ad for feminism on the surface, The bold type quickly and skillfully created an elusive fantasy from the media world where, one night a week, a career in journalism was as easy as a fully funded magazine, 500 words in sans serif a day, a million dollar fashion wardrobe for alleviate any relationship issues, and bosses who supported an “inwardly inclined” version of feminism that was inclusive and intersectional in a way that real life never was.
While this plotline could have been rescued as a bold stance on the futility of fixing a system based on corruption, Kat's firing is instead treated as a set of well-deserved consequences. In the span of ten episodes, Kat finds herself forcibly divorced from the fantasy world of Scarlet and once again disagreeing with Eva, the same lawyer who cost him his job. In the past, Kat's confrontations about relationships and desires have always centered her own idea of herself. When his ex-girlfriend Adena El-Amin (Nikohl Boosheri) revealed biphobic views, an entire episode was devoted to Kat confronting Adena about how her phobia directly affected her life. But with the arc of Kat and Eva's relationship, the Bold font offers a hotter shot - if you don't agree with the system, sleep with it.
The decision to have Kat consider a relationship with a right-wing media personality is such a regressive blow that it only makes sense that season four also features a carbon copy of the recently coveted The Wing workspace. With that, The bold type She trades her idealistic fantasy in the media world for her originally implicit surface-level feminism, where the ideological differences between Kat and a devoted conservative who supports her father's conversion therapy beliefs can be easily resolved with a roll on the bed sheets. The fact that this Republican cardholder is a lesbian is treated as a "cheat" moment, with Kat relegated to the role of flattering flatterer. Kat is forced to discuss not only her ideals, but also her existence, to demonstrate that she is able to "tolerate different beliefs." When Eva lures Kat into a fight over politics, it is only thanks to her that Kat can keep her job. To start a podcast, she is convinced that she needs Eva as a guest, and must demonstrate that she is capable of being civil before Eva accepts. In a republican mixer, she attends to take the good side of Eva, her sexuality is underrated, treated as something that the white woman in front of her does not want her son to "catch". Rather than arguing that progressives and conservatives can agree on some things, which is the kindest interpretation of the intention behind this story, the show goes further to establish Eva as the only way Kat can mark the difference, putting Kat in the unknown role of second violin in her own story.
By treating Kat and Eva's relationship as a "Modern Love" cartoon, The bold type consider the couple as an example of forbidden romance, rather than a set of antithetical beliefs. In Eva's cartoon, criticism of conservative ideology is placed on an equal footing with attacks on rarity, which seems especially neglected given that a literal physical pursuit of rarity, conversion therapy, is the first point of conflict in the relationship of the two. The show treats their problems as simple complications, using Kat's podcast to lament the difficulty of "identity politics" rather than actively distinguishing between simple disagreements and damaging legislation that affects the lives of minorities on a daily basis. The season finale consolidates this biased view, dismissing this monumental plot point as recklessly as it was created when, thanks to a sloppy pre-release edit, Kat sleeps with Eva and then leaves her in a text message.
While all of this is in line with the superficial-level feminist fantasy that The bold type Initially it seemed to be, negative reactions to Kat's story line from viewers and Aisha Dee herself make it clear that these decisions are a betrayal of what the show has really become. The bold type The decision to position Kat as a success without the slightest hint of confusion in her working life helped catapult the show into its perfect niche of fantasy media escapism. It was comforting and exciting to see Kat have room to explore and grow in her sexuality, and even bolder to see the intersectionality practiced so openly. The decision to create a fully developed black character and then narrow it down so exhaustively in one season feels like more than just a betrayal of the show's established themes: For fans who feel an overwhelming sense of connection to Kat's character, it seems like violence.
But the reality of how much Kat's character represents lies in more than just the viewer's reaction. In an open letter posted to Instagram, Dee criticized her character's portrayal, pointing to the lack of representation in the writers' room that brought Kat to this point. More than just a character misstep, this season of The bold type It is the perfect example of what happens when white feminism goes beyond the limits of entertainment and enters the open spaces of real life. When issues that can be flattened out in an easily digestible pillow conversation are put on a real stage, they fail to sustain the actual facts and experience. In the end, #Girlboss' feminism promises are as empty as they are exclusive. And once again, black women are left behind.
The love and support for Kat Edison is clear evidence of a still unwavering desire for black women to be seen on screen. And the success of previous seasons of The bold type It shows that Kat's character does more than just live well: her openness and joy is a definitive marker of what makes the show great. So Kat's bewildering fourth season trip does more than hurt her character; It shows that as long as diverse voices are kept out of the room, the #Girlboss era may not be as dead as we think.
