The Feminist Case for Loving ‘Charlie’s Angels’

I don’t remember how old I was when I first heard the term “jiggle TV,” but I know it was decades after I was a devoted, starry-eyed fangirl of the genre. And I do mean “girl”—Wonder Woman came into the world just a year after I did, Charlie’s Angels two years after, Three’s Company the year after that. I watched them all—first in weekly nighttime installments, later in endlessly imbibable reruns—as I was learning to walk, talk, dress, eat, interact with other girls and other boys, and understand how the world saw me and where I fit into it.

The term “jiggle TV” was coined in the mid-1970s by NBC exec Paul Klein to describe and deride rival network ABC’s successful lineup of shows starring women who wore excessively revealing clothing, with Charlie’s Angels as its prime example. Whatever age I was when I first heard the term, I was old enough to immediately grasp its demeaning, objectifying implications. I remember it hitting me like a ton of bricks: The fictional world I’d been gazing at with such awe and reverence was, in the eyes of others, somewhere between a turn-on and a joke.

Without making a big thing about it, I tucked my childhood obsession away in a remote-storage corner of my brain and, for decades, lived an Angels-free life.

Until this year, when Charlie’s Angels turned the big 5-0.

I decided to attempt a full-series rewatch. I wanted to see if immersing myself in the series again after all these years would pull my memories out of remote storage and give me a more detailed picture of how the show’s storylines and messages had affected my pliable young mind.

What had I picked up and taken away from the show besides starry-eyed fangirl devotion?

The answer was: plenty.

Andrew Tate in His Own Words: On Men’s Rights, Anti-Feminism and How He ‘Threatens the System’

Andrew Tate is not a garden variety misogynist. Nor is he a typical sexual assault suspect.  

Rather, he is a leader—and icon—in the global anti-feminist men’s rights movement who rose to fame and fortune over the past decade through a potent blend of personal charisma, overweening ambition and cynical opportunism.

And he is an alleged rapist and sex trafficker.

He is currently in U.S. federal custody in Miami, along with his brother Tristan, awaiting possible extradition to the United Kingdom on 59 criminal charges that include multiple allegations of violent rape and physical assault.

Andrew Tate is also a right-wing political figure who has vociferously and repeatedly attacked feminism, and has had an outsized influence globally in the normalization of overt expressions of misogyny by men and boys.   

Much has been written about Tate over the years. A recent piece in The New Yorker that has attracted much attention is entitled “Andrew Tate’s Empire of Abuse,” by Heidi Blake. The article’s subtitle reads “How the defining figure of the manosphere built a fortune—and became a political force—by systematically exploiting women.”

But for anyone who wants insight into the ways in which the former professional kickboxer has been able to assemble an enormous following of boys and men, there’s another valuable source of information: Tate himself.

A Rape-Survivor-Turned-Prosecutor Is Teaching Women How to Heal

One of us is a doctor, the other a lawyer. We’re also members of a club that no woman ever asks to join, but too many are forced into, often by men they loved and trusted.

JoDee Neil, a Texas attorney and former prosecutor, has spent her career seeking justice for survivors of sexual violence. Now, in her new book Outcry Witness, she tells her own story—one shaped by rape, trauma and the long, uneven path toward healing. As survivors ourselves, we recognized something familiar in each other: the understanding that comes without explanation, and the belief that when institutions fail us, women often become each other’s lifeline.

An “outcry witness” is the first person a survivor tells about their abuse, and that response can shape the course of healing. Neil argues that being believed is not a small act of compassion—it is the foundation on which survivors rebuild their lives.

In an era when powerful men continue to evade accountability, Outcry Witness offers something the legal system too often cannot: validation, community and hope.

Our conversation became more than an interview. It became a reminder that storytelling is itself an act of resistance—that women speaking honestly to one another can challenge shame, expose violence and create the conditions for healing.

“We are at the precipice of the dam breaking,” Neil told me. “We’ve never been able to communicate in real time with each other, to really put the pieces together. … I am so full of excitement to be a part of this movement for humanity.”

Her book is an invitation for survivors to do exactly that.

When it Comes to Consent, ‘Yes Means Yes’ Is Not Enough

In 1993, Saturday Night Live parodied a new affirmative consent policy at Antioch College with a sketch starring Mike Myers who asks explicit consent for each intimate act such as, “May I elevate the level of sexual intimacy by feeling your buttocks?” The joke landed because the policy seemed absurd—the punchline signaling political correctness run amok.

Decades later, affirmative consent policies like Antioch’s are now standard at universities across the country.

The arc from national ridicule to national norm was driven by survivors, educators, researchers and students themselves who pushed for a shift from “no means no” toward “yes means yes.” Advocates sought to articulate that women are not merely gatekeepers—survivors are not culpable for not articulating “no” (i.e. silence doesn’t equal consent). Instead, it’s on everyone to make sure they have a clear “yes.” This movement simultaneously sought to emphasize women’s sexual agency, empowering them to actively express “yes” to desired sexual encounters. 

Yet despite widespread adoption of affirmative consent policies on campuses, not much has changed. According to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, rates of sexual violence on college campuses remain high, with one in five women and one in 16 men experiencing assault, and over 40 percent experiencing sexually harassing behavior.

This persistence suggests that consent alone cannot bear the weight we place upon it.

How Punjabi Sikh Advocates Reimagined Domestic Violence Risk Assessment

As another domestic violence homicide-by-strangulation in the Punjabi Sikh community went largely unreported outside the community itself, we are reminded of how often opportunities for intervention are missed. Those misses stem not only from systemic biases, but also from a lack of community-specific knowledge and cultural humility among service providers. When domestic violence research and prevention efforts rely on broad assumptions or one-size-fits-all frameworks, they risk overlooking the complex realities of survivors whose experiences are shaped by family, community and systemic pressures.

At Sikh Family Center, we encountered these limitations firsthand while working with the widely used Danger Assessment tool and its later adaptation for immigrant women. Questions about who qualifies as an “immigrant,” differing scoring systems and the omission of key risk factors often created confusion rather than clarity. When a risk-assessment tool does not reflect survivors’ lived realities—or appears to make assumptions about their identities—it becomes less persuasive and less effective in helping them make life-changing decisions.

That experience led us to develop the Danger Assessment for Sikh Women, a tool created alongside Punjabi Sikh survivors and their families. By incorporating community-specific vulnerabilities, protective factors and culturally relevant questions, the assessment aims to improve safety planning while helping survivors recognize both the risks they face and the support systems available to them.

The lesson extends far beyond one community: Domestic violence prevention strategies must remain flexible, humble and responsive if they are to reach survivors whose experiences fall outside conventional assumptions.

Survivors of Torture Rewrite the Rules Banning It

There is no shortage of cases of torture in the headlines. Across today’s crises—from Ukraine to Sudan, Myanmar to Gaza—the allegations are graphic and devastating. But once a legal case closes or the news cycle moves on, another story begins: What happens to those who survive torture?

As U.N. special rapporteur on torture, I have met survivors around the world who carry its effects long after the physical wounds have healed. Survivors spoke to me about stigma, economic struggles, permanent disabilities, fractured relationships and the exhausting fight to be believed, gain access to care and secure justice. Too often, torture is treated as an event that ends when the abuse stops. That is far from survivors’ realities.

That is why survivors themselves helped create the first global Charter of Rights for Victims and Survivors of Torture and other cruelty—a framework demanding access to specialized healthcare, long-term psychological support, legal recognition, financial stability and meaningful involvement in shaping the laws and systems that affect their lives.

Where to Watch ‘Ask E. Jean,’ a New Documentary on the Wit, Fury and Fearlessness of E. Jean Carroll

E. Jean Carroll—the colorful author and advice columnist who beat Donald Trump in court twice—is finally getting the documentary treatment in Ask E. Jean, a film that is as poignant as it is entertaining.

Director Ivy Meeropol first reached out to Carroll after reading the devastating yet vibrant New York Magazine piece in which Carroll accused Trump of raping her in a Bergdorf Goodman dressing room decades earlier.

Carroll’s initial response: “I’d rather eat my shoe.”

But Meeropol persisted, eventually convincing Carroll she wanted to tell the fuller story of her life—not just the trials, but her remarkable rise during the heyday of glossy magazines and New York media culture.

The resulting film traces Carroll’s evolution from Indiana cheerleader to professionally fabulous Manhattan raconteur, weaving together archival footage, legal depositions and deeply personal interviews.

Some of the documentary’s most powerful moments come from previously unseen deposition footage, where Carroll recounts the 1996 assault while enduring invasive questioning from Trump attorney Alina Habba. Even in those moments, Carroll remains irrepressibly funny.

Meeropol says the footage reveals “what really happens when someone who’s brought a charge of rape or sexual abuse is deposed,” while also exposing the broader misogyny women confront “from the minute we’re born.”

Meeropol also describes struggling against “The Trump Effect”—fear within the entertainment industry about supporting projects that could provoke retaliation from Trump or his allies. Distributors hesitated, some producers reportedly asked not to be credited, and the film was repeatedly stalled despite strong festival reviews.

But Ask E. Jean is now expanding into theaters nationwide, bringing Carroll’s story to audiences at a moment when the politics of gender, power and public accountability remain impossible to ignore.

A New Playbook for College Athletes: Consent, Intervention and Prevention

June 2026 will mark the 54th anniversary of Title IX, the 1972 federal law barring sex-based discrimination in education, ensuring equal participation in sports and prohibiting sexual violence in educational programs receiving federal funding.

But even though Title IX passed more than half a century ago, and significantly more women now go to college than men, gender-based violence is still rampant among college students. Thirteen percent of U.S. college students experience rape or sexual assault during their time on (or off) campus. For women, that number doubles: 26.4 percent of women (and 6.8 percent of men) undergraduates experience sexual violence. Young women are especially vulnerable, compared to older grad students, and women college students aged 18 to 24 are three times more likely to experience gender-based violence than women in general.

Most colleges and universities have standard anti-sexual violence training during freshman orientation (often just required videos or something students click through online), but this information is often quickly forgotten or not practical enough for students to easily apply to their own lives and interactions. The nonprofit sexual assault prevention organization It’s On Us is seeking to change that with the The Playbook 2.0, a research-based workshop series for college athletes.

War on Women Report: Rise of ‘Sleep Porn’; Georgia Midwives Sue for Right to Practice; Louisiana Family Massacre Exposes Deadly Intersection of Domestic Violence and Guns

MAGA Republicans are back in the White House, and Project 2025 is their guide: the right-wing plan to turn back the clock on women’s rights, remove abortion access, and force women into roles as wives and mothers in the “ideal, natural family structure.”

We know an empowered female electorate is essential to democracy. That’s why day after day, we stay vigilant in our goals to dismantle patriarchy at every turn. We are watching, and we refuse to go back. This is the War on Women Report.

Since our last report:
—Access to mifepristone remains protected for now, after a U.S. district court granted a stay in Louisiana v. FDA.
—A new CNN investigation reveals a sprawling online network where drug-facilitated sexual assault, marketed as “sleep porn, ” is filmed, shared and monetized, drawing millions of viewers. Meanwhile, survivors face steep barriers to reporting and justice.
—The Ohio House passed the Indecent Exposure Modernization Act, an extreme bill that seeks to ban any expression or performance of drag where minors are or may be present. The proposed ban includes even daytime family-oriented events such as drag queen story hours, where performers dress up as storybook characters and read to children at libraries or bookstores.
—In a devastating shooting spree spanning three locations, Shamar Elkins shot and killed eight children, seven of whom were his own, and severely wounded two women: his wife, Shaneiqua Pugh, and Christina Snow. Both women are mothers to the deceased victims.
—In Georgia, a group of reproductive healthcare advocates is challenging the state’s restrictions on some forms of maternal healthcare, arguing that Georgia’s current laws give doctors too much control over midwives’ ability to practice.
—Nine women in Tennessee are suing the state over its abortion ban after nearly denying due to being denied abortion care.

… and more.

Women Make Our Movements Powerful. They Shouldn’t Have to Suffer in Silence.

New York Times investigation released this week broke news of shocking sexual abuse allegations against labor leader César Chávez—from two women who were young teenagers at the time, and from Dolores Huerta, our long-time Ms. advisor, Feminist Majority Foundation (publisher of Ms.) board member, friend, and feminist and labor icon who co-founded the United Farm Workers with Chávez.

In fighting the culture that makes these actions not only possible, but permissible—and that encourages women like Huerta to remain silent for over 60 years—we must consider the role of men.

Men, argues Ms. contributor Jackson Katz, are essential to shifting the narrative. In describing the case of Gisèle Pelicot, a woman who had been secretly drugged by her husband and set up to be raped by dozens of men over a 10-year period, Katz mentions the evocative nickname the case acquired in French media reports: Monsieur Tout-le-monde. Mr. Everyman. 

If the 50 men who assaulted Pelicot were just “ordinary men” (“many were married and had kids. They were blue- and white-collar workers: a restaurant manager, nurse, computer technician, prison guard, firefighter, journalist, soldier,” Katz writes), then consequently, every man has a role to play in dismantling systemic violence against women.