The #Girlboss Revolution

Sophia Amoruso's first business failed big. But it set the stage for something great.

- Kristen Bahler

In an old warehouse on the edge of Queens, N.Y., a thousand-.some#Girlboss have assembled.

They sit on folding chairs, filling a cavernous space that once belonged to a door factory but now looks more like a Suze Orman fever dream. Neon lights twist toward a massive stage; a banner the size of a billboard screams, “PAY ME PAY ME PAY ME” in selfie-perfect block lettering.

Every #Girlboss is wearing something Meant to Be Seen. A fuchsia pantsuit, a faux fur statement coat, hair the color of a radioactive lime. Her nails are bright and fresh, her eyeliner is winged. And her attention is rapt.

Onstage, Sophia Amoruso—the #Girlboss-in-Chief—is flicking through a slideshow of the defining moments in her career: ambivalent college student, part-time eBay seller, Forbes magazine cover star.

They’ve heard this story before. Most of the audience read, and reread, Amoruso’s 2014 memoir, #Girlboss, which detailed her rise from California crust punk to e-commerce superstar. They dog-eared pages and underlined quotes. Some made the book a permanent nightstand fixture; others still keep it in their purses for quick inspiration.

They know what comes next too. How, a few months after that Forbes cover, Nasty Gal, the clothing brand that shot Amoruso into the public eye, filed for bankruptcy. How her company imploded the same year she published her second book, Nasty Galaxy, and Netflix announced it was adapting a TV series based on her first.

“I’d gotten everything I’d ever dreamed of, but I was the loneliest I’ve ever been,” she tells the audience. “And I’m the Girlboss.”

At 34, Amoruso is rebranding failure.