Like most people, there are a number of guilty pleasures that I have. I like those super sugary cupcakes whose icing contains three parts sugar to one part butter; the staged fights on Real Housewives shows, even if that makes me something of a bad feminist; and even as I peruse The Guardian and The Washington Post hourly for updates, I love reading about Kanye West ‘s latest rant and who Rihanna might be dating on Celebitchy. My love for celebrity gossip is a bit indulgent, and it’s how I first heard the term ‘Harvey’s girls’.
When the news about Harvey Weinstein’s abuses of power started to trickle into the mainstream a few weeks ago, I was unsurprised. However, as the days wore on and there was statement after statement, from people affiliated with Weinstein, and from actors like Angelina Jolie and Gwyneth Paltrow and Lupita Nyong’o, the story’s magnitude, it’s beginning and end and in-between, became appalling and horrifying. It’s hard, through the now nearly 60 accusers, to know why someone with the power didn’t stop it.