Lara Spencer’s ‘Feminist’ Icons Are Just Rich Brats and She’s Too Out of Touch to See It
Okay, grab your kombucha and put on your most judgmental yoga pants, because we’ve got a classic case of “Rich Lady Yells at Cloud” unfolding in the public square. Lara Spencer, the *Good Morning America* co-host who definitely remembers when Blockbuster was peak entertainment, recently decided to grace us with her opinion on who the “most influential women” in history are. And surprise, surprise—it’s a list that reads like the guest list for a private yacht party in the Hamptons, circa 1997.
For those of you who haven’t been doom-scrolling hard enough, here’s the TL;DR: Spencer, in some segment or interview that the algorithm gods shoved into my feed, apparently named her top feminist icons. And the list? It’s so aggressively white, wealthy, and disconnected from reality that it makes a suburban HOA board look like a revolutionary commune. We’re talking names like Martha Stewart, Oprah (okay, fair, but the billionaire version), and maybe a sprinkle of a Kennedy or two. No labor organizers. No trans rights advocates. No women who didn’t have a personal chef and a private jet. Just a parade of women who’ve successfully monetized their privilege into a lifestyle brand.
Let’s be real for a second. Lara Spencer is the human embodiment of a “Live, Laugh, Love” sign that’s been dipped in Botox. Her entire brand is aspirational wealth for people who think “roughing it” means a hotel without a minibar. So it’s not shocking that when asked to think about influential women, her brain immediately goes to the ones who own a vineyard or have a home goods line at Target. But the fact that she’s out here calling them “feminist icons” is the kind of galaxy-brain take that makes you wonder if she’s ever actually met a woman who isn’t on her payroll.
Look, I’m not going to sit here and pretend Martha Stewart isn’t a cultural force. The woman literally taught a generation of Americans how to fold a fitted sheet and has a net worth that could buy a small country. She’s a survivor. She went to prison and came out with a TV show. That’s a boss move, no doubt. But is she a feminist icon? Or is she just a really rich lady who knows how to arrange flowers? There’s a difference, and Spencer seems to be confusing “successful entrepreneur” with “revolutionary figure who fought for women’s rights.” It’s like saying Jeff Bezos is a labor activist because he owns a lot of warehouses.
And then there’s the Oprah pick. Sure, Oprah is probably the most influential media personality of the last 50 years, and she’s done incredible work for literacy and self-help. But let’s not pretend her brand of feminism is anything but a luxury product for the wealthy. Oprah’s “lean in” philosophy is basically a TED Talk for people who already have a safety net. It’s not exactly the kind of feminism that’s going to help the single mom working three jobs or the trans woman of color fighting for basic rights. It’s feminism for people who can afford a Peloton and a therapist.
But here’s the real kicker—Spencer’s list is a masterclass in tone-deafness because it completely ignores the actual women who have been on the front lines of the fight for equality. You know, the ones who didn’t have a PR team? The ones who died poor, exhausted, and ignored? The women like Dolores Huerta, who co-founded the United Farm Workers and is still fighting for labor rights at 94? Or Marsha P. Johnson, a Black trans activist who literally threw a brick at the Stonewall riots and died under suspicious circumstances? Or hell, even a modern icon like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who’s actually in the trenches of policy-making while dragging millionaire donors?
Nah, Spencer’s brain went straight to the women who have a cookbook and a reality show. It’s the kind of feminism that’s been sanitized, commodified, and sold back to us in a pretty package with a bow on top. It’s “empowerment” that requires a credit card and a subscription. It’s the feminism of Sephora and SoulCycle, where the most radical act you can do is buy a $50 candle that says “Nevertheless, She Persisted.”
And the worst part? Spencer probably thinks she’s being progressive. She’s probably sitting in her tastefully decorated living room, sipping a $12 latte, and patting herself on the back for uplifting women. But all she’s doing is reinforcing the same old hierarchy: the rich get called “icons” while the poor get called “activists” (which is just a nice way of saying “annoying”). It’s a classic case of “I don’t see color/class/struggle; I just see my friends.”
Let’s also not ignore the sheer audacity of naming these women in 2024, when the concept of “feminism” has become a battlefield. We’re in the middle of a culture war where reproductive rights are being gutted, trans kids are being used as political footballs, and the wealth gap is so wide that the 1% are basically living on another planet. And Spencer’s idea of a feminist icon is someone who can get a good deal on antique furniture? It’s like bringing a water pistol to a forest fire.
I’m not saying we should cancel Lara Spencer. That would be too easy, and frankly, she’s not important enough to warrant a full-scale cancellation. But what we should do is point and laugh. We should treat her list like the out-of-touch billionaire’s fantasy that it is. Because that’s what it is—a fantasy. A fantasy where feminism is a lifestyle choice, not a life-or-death struggle. A fantasy where the only women who matter are the ones who make
Final Thoughts
After reading through the coverage on Lara Spencer, it’s clear that her on-air misstep regarding Prince George’s ballet class was less about malice and more about a generational blind spot that still lingers in newsrooms. The real story, however, isn’t her apology or the backlash—it’s how the furious, swift response from the dance community and parents online forced the media to finally reckon with its outdated, gendered framing of male interests. For a veteran anchor, the lesson should be simple: the best journalism doesn’t just report on culture; it has to evolve with it, or else risk becoming the very stereotype you’re supposed to be questioning.