Freeda’s end is (also) the sunset of commercial pop feminism
Freeda, one of the most ambitious and recognizable editorial projects of social feminism in recent years, has come to the terminus. The news of its liquidation came a few days ago: the company will close its doors, ending an adventure that began in 2017 between high expectations and seven -digit investments. To amaze is the fact that a project with 1.7 million followers on Instagram, a well -recognizable storytelling capacity and a strategy aimed at a young and progressive audience, is now considered, in fact, a failure.
The suspicion of the “Pink Washing”
The truth is that from the beginning Freeda has aroused conflicting reactions, especially within the online feminist world. Many observers seemed immediately a clear marketing operation disguised as activism: well -packaged content, but free of real political commitment. The most frequent accusation? The “Pink Washing”: the use of the battles for women’s rights and the LGBTQ+ community as tools to improve the brand’s image and increase sales, without real adhesion to the promoted values. The corporate team also contributed to strengthening this perception. Among the investors of Freeda there was (although with a laughable share), not without controversy, even the Berlusconi family: a surname that, in the Italian context, hardly reconciles with the idea of female emancipation.
Strategic choices and changed context
It is not known with certainty how we weighed on the failure of Freeda questionable strategic choices, such as expansion abroad, the launch of proper brand products or the opening of physical stores. But it is likely that all this has aggravated a deeper crisis, linked to a change of cultural paradigm that Freeda has not been able to intercept. In recent years, in fact, an growing part of feminism – especially the intersectional one – has taken on increasingly critical positions towards capitalist logic. Female emancipation, in this vision, cannot ignore a wider fight against economic and social inequalities.
In this scenario, a commercial project like Freeda, strongly linked to sponsorships and collaborations with multinationals, has started to lose credibility. During his maximum success period, Freeda published numerous content sponsored every day. Still, what appeared like a perfect toy – a channel followed by millions of young progressive women, capable of ennobled the reputation of the brands that decided to associate herself – started breaking. Because the public, today more than ever, perceives the dissonance between the social message and commercial dynamics. And if a message is not perceived as authentic, the loss of trust is inevitable.
The reputation crisis
Over time, Freeda has become a target of increasingly fierce criticisms, often coming from the same followers. The discontent poured into the comments, in the posts, in the overall sentiment around the brand. To this was added silence – or hostility – of the most authoritative voices of digital feminism: influencers, activists, journalists who have distanced themselves from the project, depriving it of that legitimacy “from the bottom” which is now essential for anyone who wants to talk about rights and inclusiveness.
The end of the Freeda project also leaves room for larger reflections on the relationship between social commitment and business. It is likely that in the future other similar brands will be born, perhaps more careful not to alienate the most radical fringes of progressive thought, and capable of better balance the needs of the market with ethical consistency. It must be said, however, that even the great multinationals, such as Disney or Netflix, seem a little more cautious in riding the issues of inclusion. After years of “inclusive marketing” pushed, they understood that politicizing their content too much can return against the brand itself, discontent both the conservatives and the progressives.