\n<\/p>\n
So, audiences are still watching All\u2019s Fair.<\/em><\/a> Despite being lampooned by critics and initially earning an impressively harsh 0% Rotten Tomatoes score, the show has turned out to be a major success for Hulu ratings-wise. This week, the streaming network announced that it would be renewing the show, which everybody said couldn\u2019t (or shouldn\u2019t) exist, for a second season.<\/p>\n With its two-episode season finale set to release on December 9, the question remains: Why? Why did this show come into existence? Why are we being made to watch Allura (Kim Kardashian<\/strong>) bounce unrhythmically atop her cheating ex-husband? Why does Milan (Teyana Taylor<\/strong>), a law firm receptionist (or an assistant? There is a major difference), drive a BMW and live alone in what appears to be a multimillion-dollar Los Angeles home? Why are these women served Michelin-starred quality lunches by in-office butlers? But, most importantly, why can\u2019t audiences seem to look away from a show that critics labeled \u201can atrocity<\/a>,\u201d \u201cnonsense<\/a>,\u201d and \u201cthe worst TV show of the year<\/a>\u201d?<\/p>\n What if the reason\u2014co-creator Ryan Murphy<\/strong> and Kardashian\u2019s \u201cwhy\u201d\u2014is that they did it all for feminism?<\/p>\n Stay with me.<\/em><\/p>\n The same week that All\u2019s Fair<\/em> debuted, The New York Times<\/em> published an unhinged editorial conversation, first titled, \u201cDid Women Ruin the Workplace?\u201d then renamed, \u201cDid Liberal Feminism Ruin the Workplace<\/a>?\u201d Debates ensued, think pieces were written, and our smartest and brightest locked in to argue the virtues of \u201cliberal feminism\u201d and the existence of \u201cconservative feminism<\/a>.<\/em>\u201d Then, in the midst of the chaos, came more chaos in the form of All’s Fair:<\/em> a workplace drama, where an all-women\u2019s Avengers<\/em>-esque clique of divorce attorneys opts out of working with men in the office altogether. Just less than 10 minutes into the pilot, All\u2019s Fair<\/em> threw its hat (and there are so many hats) into the feminist-debate ring, declaring loudly and clumsily that the show is some form of utopia realized.<\/p>\n \u201cWe stepped away from the patriarchy and toward something of our own,\u201d says Emerald Greene, played by Niecy Nash,<\/strong> as a disembodied arm serves her espresso. (Only the rich are allowed to speak or be seen in this feminist utopia.) What follows is a glorious 120 minutes of Birkin bags posed indiscreetly in the background of almost every scene, the hull of a private jet as the stand-in for an ensemble cast\u2019s \u201ccasual meeting place,\u201d and the shameless pursuit of wealth via direct transfer from man to soon-to-be ex-wife. In these initial images, All\u2019s Fair<\/em> proposes an oversaturated alternative to feminist theories born out of academic discourse, a canon on feminist thought that has also been lampooned\u2014reduced to pop culture memes about cat ladies and crocheted pussy hats. All\u2019s Fair\u2019s<\/em> feminism is the richer and much prettier cousin to the sort of feminism so many people love to hate.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n