If you’ve been loitering in coffee shops or doom-scrolling on social media, you’ve probably heard someone say, “I’m rewatching Girls.” The 2012 HBO series is having its annual resurgence, as if people are just now catching on to what they missed a decade ago. Why does the collective unconscious, like clockwork every spring, decide it’s time to re-binge or finally watch Girls? Blame it on the endless fodder for a single screencap of dialogue, or Marnie’s (Allison Williams) viral ballad rendition of ‘Stronger’ by Kanye West. It could be thanks to the armchair Girls experts, Amelia Ritthaler and Evan Lazarus, hosts of the HBO Girls Rewatch Podcast. Or perhaps its the new found fame of Ebon Moss-Bacharach, who played Desi on the show before starring in The Bear, therefore keeping Marnie & Desi on everyone’s lips. Maybe the internet has finally decided to forgive Lena Dunham of all her transgressions and give her the credit she’s due as a writer and show-runner. She’s the voice of her generation— or at least a voice of a generation.

During Girls’ original run in the early to mid-2010s, the show was considered polarizing by the media and weekly viewers. A commonly used word to describe the show was problematic—the cast is too white and are 75% nepo-babies, or the characters are just insufferable narcissists. The content is lewd but not sexy. Back in 2012, I guess no one posed the idea that maybe that’s the point? The titular girls are not role models— they are devoid of self-awareness, act only for their own gains, and pick boys over their friends ten out of ten times. And? That describes the majority of twenty-somethings in history. They are the butt of their own jokes, satirizing the very thing they’re depicting. Girls portrays women who are still growing, many of which are still developing their frontal lobes. Thanks to newer shows like Fleabag, Russian Doll, and Insecure, it’s less crazy to see a real-life human woman making mistakes on TV.

 

So why did Girls have such a tough time resonating with it’s target audience back then, but is now regarded as a seminal coming-of-age show? My hypothesis is based on my own experience of a girl who watched Girls as it aired, and found little to connect with at the time. I was 21 when the show ended, and though I adored it, I definitely laughed at it more than with it. I viewed the girls as exaggerated caricatures. During my first rewatch, I recognized a few more moments as something close to home. I saw myself in Shoshanna’s line, “My littlest baggage would probably be my IBS. And my medium baggage would be that I truly don’t love my grandmother.” I deeply related to Hannah telling her doctor she’s scared of getting AIDS, “It’s more a Forrest Gump based fear.” By the time I was 25, 26, 27, I realized why I only enjoyed it from a distance before. It’s because I was (am?) as entitled and unbearable as them, just not living in Bushwick. Once I could radically accept that, the show became biblical.

Identifying with these characters can be a tough pill to swallow, but for all of us born before 9/11, we either know or are a little bit of each girl. For the Marnie’s— you’re the poster child of garden-variety millennial. You’re everyone I’ve ever been friends with on Facebook. Maybe you’re uptight and a bit delusional, but you’re also unintentionally the funniest. For the Shoshanna’s— you’re a pusher of toxic positivity and pop-culture references, but you mature at a faster pace than all your friends. You’re able to remove the rose coloured glasses and call people out on their bullshit just like Shosh did in season 3, “I’m unstimulating? What do I want to be, like you? Like mentally ill and miserable?” For the lucky lot that are Jessa’s— you are free-spirited enough to act on your most taboo impulses and look effervescent doing it.

Girls has a timeless energy because it doesn’t focus on specific situations, it focuses on specific personalities. The young people discovering the show for the first time can grow along with the characters. Everyone embarking on a rewatch can look back on the show with newfound wisdom that only comes with surviving their twenties. The show was designed for its audience to outgrow it. Hannah, Marnie, Jessa, and Shoshanna will remain young and naïve, stuck in an HBO vault forever. You, me, us, we will eventually find ourselves becoming more like Ray Ploshansky, a jaded cynic who loathes Gen Z and is allergic to sincerity.

^{*original version published on collider.com on 03/24/2023}