One Year Later: A Letter from The Founders
By The Founders
Every girl remembers buying their first magazine. The glossy cover, gorgeous models, advice columns, stories, and photo spreads. From Vogue to Cosmo to Elle— fashion has always been more than clothes— it's the pulse of our culture.
If you go back and look through magazines from the 2000s, it feels like a different era. These magazines used to provide women with meaningful advice about life, from hairstyles to dating to motherhood. Politics was polling if Jessica Alba or Reese Witherspoon wore it better, and culture was daisy dukes and Ralph Lauren. Women across America, from all walks of life, spent hours flipping through the pages and even more time talking about what they had read with their friends.
Fast-forward a couple of years, and the pages of Vogue are unrecognizable. Fashion magazines now seem like a course syllabus from a UC Berkeley gender studies class or a pamphlet from your local Democratic Socialists convention. From the extensive profiles of AOC to the regurgitation of tired, woke slogans, Vogue worships at the altar of out-of-touch Hollywood elitism. Bashing America is now "en Vogue" in more ways than one. Even worse, the fashion may be just as bad as the columns, from Kamala Harris' converses to Harry Styles in a dress; Vogue seemed to forget that fashion is not just for woke liberals.
So, if you're not interested in sex tips for gender-queer blue-haired cat women in the East Village, where are you supposed to get your culture commentary? If you don't want to dress like Billie Elish or wear rag-tag knit garments like Ella Emhoff, where do you find your style inspo? If Cardi B, Chrissy Teigen, and Elizabeth Warren aren't your heroes, what magazine puts people like you on the cover? Just like millions of American women, who love fashion, pop culture, and politics, we were looking for our publication— without the progressive propaganda. The Conservateur was born.
The concept of The Conservateur was informed by our experience as young, conservative women in America. It was clear that conservative women had no place, current or future, in the pages of Vogue, so we canceled our subscriptions and got writing. The Conservateur's mission was (and is) today to represent the millions of American women who love our country but are misrepresented and belittled by the mainstream media. After months of developing our brand, designing our website, and writing articles, we were ready to launch in the spring of 2020. Passionate about our mission and fully invested in our concept, we were thrilled to share our new publication with the world.
Launching The Conservateur was no easy feat. Between COVID, the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement, and an election on the way, our country felt emotionally raw and more divided than ever. Tension was in the air, and everyone could feel it. Eager to show the world TC but conscious of the political climate, we kept pushing our launch date back. However, 2020 felt like a tunnel with no light at the end, with each passing week more grim and hopeless than the next. As weeks turned to months and news stories spiraled into weaponized tools of division, we realized that then, more than ever, conservative women needed an outlet.
We knew there would be backlash. Two out of our three co-founders went to UC Berkeley and we’re well versed in the scripture of cancel culture and the brutal Twitter tactics of Gen Z SJWs. But nothing could prepare us for the hostility we faced when we launched. We expected attacks on our politics, but the barrage of hatred turned very personal very quickly. We spent days watching people we knew personally pile on to the hate in an effort to cancel us, shame us, and ultimately silence us. The online attacks were overwhelming, cruel, and deeply disturbing. At the time, none of us had the close-knit conservative community we have today; it felt like our team of three against the world.
Over the course of a week, we lost many friends, burned bridges, and faced brutal public scrutiny, but we came to an epiphanal realization. The inflow of hate perfectly encapsulated why our movement was so powerful. The hostility on public display was indicative of the exact culture The Conservateur was created to counter. The mob proved our point better than we could have ever imagined. As Winston Churchill brilliantly once said, "You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life." Cancel culture couldn't claim us as victims, and we came out stronger and more determined than ever.
While the hate was on public display, privately, girls from all over the country, not liking or commenting on our posts out of fear for their own cancellation, loved our message. We received dozens of messages of personal thanks, encouragement, and appreciation. What started as a few DM's has grown into a grassroots movement of thousands who consider TC their community. And it is this same community, the followers, readers, and commenters of TC, who continue to fuel and inspire us today.
In just a short year, The Conservateur has profoundly shaped our lives— from the friendships we've made to the movement we've created. We couldn't be more proud of the community we've built, the content we've published, the readership we've reached, and the brand we've cultivated. Our team has grown exponentially, as we've welcomed incredibly talented, smart, and beautiful women who have made our community and publication greater every day.
To our readers— be bold, confident, and go against the grain. Lions don't care about the opinions of sheep. Life is too short to be canceled by a blue-haired liberal! We live in America, the greatest country on earth— go achieve your dreams, do what you love, and be kind. The Conservateur community will always be here to cheer you on.
