Like all start-up origin stories, Jenny came into existence around a kitchen table with too much coffee and a shoestring budget. But before we were excitedly typing out our stories and worrying over logo choices, Jenny was a desire for a website with stories that I wanted to read.
I’m just like the rest of us; I sit on my couch at night and scroll through Instagram while I ignore whatever is on the TV. And while I’m as tethered to social media as anyone, I missed having a place I could go to find stories that I could see myself in, that I could learn from, that I could commiserate with. I missed being understood like I was by the editors of Sassy. I missed getting the chance to read More because I was too young when it was closed. Where was the place for women like me or any of my cool, smart, interesting, fashionable, complicated friends? No one was writing stories for us. The seed for Jenny was planted in those questions.
Why are magazines women love shuttered? Why are websites women love closed? In short: because of money. The publishing business works by making money from ads sitting next to stories–or in the case of the internet, with 15 ads embedded in, around, and on top of stories. The value of a story isn’t determined by how many people care about what’s being said. The publisher is not paid on how beautifully a story is written, nor on how important it is. It’s just ads. The writing is a means to collect dollars. And here is the unsurprising fact of the advertising marketplace: The only group deemed truly valuable are males aged 18 to 35. You know what sites are successfully publishing? Sports sites. Tech sites. Car sites. Video game sites. And so many other sites aimed at 18- to 35-year-old men. It’s no coincidence. How will any sites about women, for women, by women survive? I’m not sure, but I won’t let not trying be the answer.
Here’s a little radical transparency that angel investors and venture capitalists don’t want to read: Right now I don’t have a plan. Right now we’re not making any money. One day we may have some ads. One day we may ask you for a small subscription fee so that we can pay our brilliant writers, who have been generous enough to do us the enormous favor of writing for us for free (because women can pull for each other when we believe in the cause) and cover the costs of internet hosting and content management systems.
But right now I want to write and read the stories that are missing in the marketplace of ideas; stories that are unattractive to advertisers or too uncomfortable for corporate publishers. I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll figure out the money along the way. Maybe one day we’ll get a Drew Barrymore and Gwyneth Paltrow investment or a Naomi Watts endorsement the way that products for middle-aged women are getting. Because if women are using products for perimenopause or getting mini neck-lifts, you know what they want to do before that? Read about it. And we’re going to write about it with the passion and honesty that I’ve never been able to contain my whole damn life. Sorry in advance, mom.
This passion and honesty has gotten me laid off. My age has gotten me laid off. The pandemic has gotten me laid off. The undesirable ad demographics of women have gotten me laid off. Fortunately (I say with intended irony), that same thing happened at the very same time to my two co-founders, Megan Cahn and Elizabeth Laura Nelson–women who have also had careers writing for and about women. One day this past June we sat around a picnic table in the early summer warmth, sipping margaritas at lunch. It was the day they got laid off. “Let’s make your women’s site,” they said. After I checked that they were sure and not in shock from being laid off, we put a meeting on our calendars and Jenny began to gestate.
Jenny exists because I miss the irreverence of reading Sassy. Jenny exists because I don’t see myself on the pages of Refinery29 or Martha Stewart. Jenny exists because I don’t know if I can still wear my hair in a ponytail every day at 47 years old, or where to shop for a wardrobe that isn’t young but doesn’t scream, “I’m old!!!” Jenny exists because I grew up as a latchkey kid in the suburbs and am now wondering if I can grow old in New York City. Jenny exists because women over 40 exist. They read, they write, they’re cool, they’re smart, they’re interesting. Jenny exists because even though I don’t know if we can make it work, I sure as hell am going to try. And now that she’s a living breathing thing, I hope you see yourself in her. And for the love of god, I hope you tell your friends that there’s a site for them, too.
Giving it my best,
Lili (a ride-or-die Jenny)
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Lili Zarghami lives with her teenagers in Brooklyn. She’s been writing for and providing editorial direction at women’s websites like Redbook, HGTV, Better Homes & Gardens and more since the turn of the century. She can remember the addresses of all the places she was a latchkey kid but has no idea what her email password is.
