EVERYONE WANTS AN AUTHENTIC WOMAN. UNTIL SHE'S KYLIE JENNER.
By Chele Sellman | Editor-in-Chief, New Face Magazine
We celebrate women who overcome adversity, provided their adversity looks the way we expect.
We celebrate women who build businesses, provided they started with little.
We celebrate women who embrace their insecurities, provided they don't change their appearance too much.
We celebrate women who are unapologetically themselves, provided we approve of who they are.
So what happens when a woman refuses to fit our preferred version of an empowered woman?
Enter Kylie Jenner.
At the 2026 Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, Kylie Jenner stepped onto the runway wearing a $50 million Fantasy Bra, the most expensive in the brand's history. Diamonds, wings, a spectacular entrance, and a moment many women could only dream of experiencing. In her own words, “I grew up watching Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. How could anyone say no?” Oh Kylie, I love that you are still so full of light and wonder because believe it or not, many would, and naturally, the internet had something to say about all of it.
She didn't deserve it. She wasn't a real Angel. She only got the opportunity because of her family. She must have paid for it.
Good grief.
A woman just experienced something extraordinary, and instead of allowing her a moment of joy, strangers appointed themselves critics of whether she'd earned the right to enjoy it.
Apparently, even dreams require public approval now, and don’t get me started on the whole, “She’s in the public eye. She signed up for this.” Well, as soon as you post that, Brenda, you become fair game, too, but I digress.
Who Gets to Decide What Makes a Woman Authentic Anyway?
Let's get something out of the way. Yes, Kylie Jenner was born into privilege. An Olympic dad and all, and later a TV series. She grew up with access, money, connections, and opportunities most people will never experience.
We know.
The question is why anyone believes those advantages disqualify her from experiencing the same human emotions, struggles, and disappointments as everyone else.
Money can buy privacy measures, professional help, beautiful homes, and extraordinary opportunities. It cannot guarantee self-acceptance, a successful relationship, freedom from heartbreak, or a childhood without emotional scars.
Her problems may exist on an entirely different financial scale. That doesn't make them imaginary. It doesn’t even make them less than. Sometimes, wealth changes the circumstances of a painful experience without changing the pain itself. Sometimes, extraordinary fame adds an audience of millions to an experience most of us would struggle to endure privately. Sometimes those same pains most of us endure are ten times worse when you are a Kylie Jenner. Yet we've developed an astonishing habit of treating wealthy and influential women as though their humanity is negotiable.
We want women to be authentic, but apparently authenticity comes with qualifications.
She must be relatable, but not too successful. Confident, but not arrogant. Beautiful, but preferably naturally. Vulnerable, but not dramatic. Wealthy, but sufficiently humble about it. Independent, but willing to explain herself whenever strangers demand answers.
Who wrote these rules?
More importantly, who gave anyone the authority to enforce them?
The Child Everyone Thought They Had Permission to Judge
Kylie Jenner was nine years old when Keeping Up With the Kardashians premiered in 2007.
Nine.
Before she could fully understand what fame meant, millions of people were watching her grow up. They watched her appearance change, her personality develop, her awkward teenage moments unfold, and her family navigate an unusually public life.
Then they began criticizing her.
Her face. Her lips. Her body. Her clothes. Her relationships. Her decisions.
Think about that for a moment.
Adults were publicly judging a child for how she looked. Shaming her even.
I don't care how famous her family was. I don't care how much money they had. I don't care whether someone liked the show.
That's gross. Shame. On. You.
Somewhere along the way, social media gave people a false sense of authority. A keyboard became permission to be cruel. A comment section became a courtroom. An opinion became a verdict. You cannot scroll ten seconds without seeing comments from women calling out the audacity of men. Pardon me? Look in the mirror, Sandra. I see you over on Cosmo with your nasty comment about “She needs to worry about her kids.” I can’t.
People who would never dream of approaching a teenage girl in a grocery store and criticizing her face somehow convinced themselves it was acceptable to do exactly that online.
Why? Because she was famous? Because her mother was Kris Jenner? Because her sister is Kim Kardashian? Because her family had a television show?
None of those answers makes the behavior acceptable.
In 2015, Kylie publicly acknowledged her lip fillers and the insecurity behind them. She also explained her reluctance to discuss them because of how harshly people judged her. On so many levels, this was beyond brave. This is brave for any woman! For any of us to boldly admit our insecurities for millions to judge, in this patriarchal society, is tough. So tell me please, why did we women make it even harder? Why did any of us feel it was okay? How did not one of those rude commenters not think their daughter, a young girl, another woman, would see any of those remarks and make them believe they too could speak up? How… inspiring.
Years later, during an episode of The Kardashians, she cried while discussing the relentless commentary about her appearance. She described being criticized since she was approximately 12 or 13 years old.
That matters, and I hate that I even feel the need to explain the why. Because the little girl who was mocked didn't disappear when she became a successful businesswoman.
She grew up.
And, the public kept talking.
Kylie Built Something Out of What Hurt Her
Here is the part of Jenner's story that deserves far more attention.
The lips that became an international jab also became the inspiration for her beauty business.
In 2015, she launched her Lip Kits. Four years later, Coty agreed to acquire a 51% stake in her beauty business for $600 million, with Kylie continuing to lead its creative direction alongside her team.
Was she born with advantages? Absolutely.
Did she have a powerful family name, a built-in audience, and access to resources? Of course.
Did those advantages automatically create a successful cosmetics business? No.
Plenty of famous people launch products. Not every product becomes a cultural phenomenon. And, I’d lament to acknowledge that Kylie built her fan base. Not her family. Not even the show could have been the catalyst for her massive growth on socials. People follow and unfollow. People stayed for the authenticity.
Kylie understood something about her audience, her insecurities, beauty, and the desire to experiment with identity. She transformed a deeply personal subject, and a love for makeup, into something millions of customers wanted to participate in.
She took something people used to make her feel inadequate and made it part of her success story. That’s the short story. The deeper one? People connected with her because they related to her.
That's not an argument that every decision she made was brilliant or that every business claim surrounding her empire should go unquestioned. It's an acknowledgment of what she actually accomplished. Perhaps it's worth asking why some people seem more comfortable discussing the advantages she started with than the work she did afterward.
I mean, we tell women to turn their pain into purpose. Then, when one does, we look for reasons to invalidate the result. Make it make sense, will you?
The Strange Conditions of Women Supporting Women
I find the contradiction of “women supporting women” fascinating.
We love the language of empowerment, don’t we? Boss babes. Women supporting women. Girls supporting girls. Build your empire. Know your worth. Protect your peace.
Wonderful sentiments.
Until the woman succeeding happens to be someone we don't particularly like. Suddenly, the conversation changes. She's privileged. She's fake. She's overrated. She's had too much work done. She doesn't deserve the attention. We're tired of seeing her.
Apparently, supporting women has become a selective membership program.
And, Kylie isn't the only Kardashian-Jenner woman who illustrates this contradiction. Each sister has navigated a different combination of motherhood, relationships, public criticism, business, and the search for some version of happiness.
Their experiences aren't identical. Their decisions aren't beyond criticism. Their privilege is real.
But… hear me out. So is their humanity!
I have serious disagreements with decisions made by members of this family, including matters involving brand accountability and the treatment of children in advertising.
Accountability matters. In my personal opinion, accountability in today’s age has the attention of a gnat. That’s a conversation for another day.
Here's the distinction I refuse to abandon:
Holding someone accountable for an identifiable decision is not the same as believing you have permission to humiliate them for existing.
Disagreement isn't cruelty. Criticism isn't automatically jealousy. Some public criticism is necessary and justified. There is a point, however, where legitimate criticism becomes something uglier. Where people stop questioning a decision and start taking pleasure in the person being hurt.
That deserves examination, too.
Public Doesn't Mean Public Property
Reality television has blurred a boundary that should never have disappeared.
Just because someone invites cameras into part of her life, people begin believing they are entitled to every part of it. They want explanations for every breakup, every friendship, every missed family event, every change in appearance, every parenting decision, and every period of silence. They want to know what happened, why it happened, who's responsible, and what she should do next.
And when they don't know, they invent answers.
Here's a radical thought.
It's none of our business.
Kylie Jenner can share a relationship without sharing every disagreement. She can show her children without giving strangers access to their entire childhood. She can participate in a reality show without surrendering the right to have private conversations, private grief, private celebrations, and private decisions.
If she chooses not to attend something, she doesn't owe the internet a public explanation.
If she disappears from social media for a while, she doesn't owe strangers an accounting of her time.
If she changes her mind, changes her appearance, or changes the direction of her life, she doesn't need permission.
We can observe her public choices. We cannot know the private circumstances behind every one of them.
That difference matters, and isn’t that what we women are preaching anyway?
We live in an era when people have become remarkably comfortable diagnosing, condemning, and assigning motives to complete strangers.
News flash. Boundaries aren't evidence of dishonesty. Sometimes, they're simply boundaries.
Authenticity Isn't Remaining the Same Woman Forever
One of the strangest demands we place on public women, actually, any woman, is that they remain consistent enough for us to recognize them, yet evolve enough to satisfy our expectations.
Kylie has been criticized for changing her appearance. She's also been criticized for acknowledging her insecurities. She's discussed decisions she felt good about and others she later reconsidered. In 2023, she spoke about regretting breast implants she received as a teenager. Motherhood, she explained, had changed how she viewed some of those decisions.
Isn't that what growing up looks like? Isn’t that learning from the past? Isn’t that evolving?
Making choices. Learning. Reconsidering. Changing your mind.
Authenticity isn't a promise that you'll never make a mistake or become someone different. It's allowing yourself to be a human being in progress.
Kylie has reinvented her style repeatedly. She's moved through different public identities, business ventures, relationships, and stages of motherhood. She has also demonstrated a willingness to step away from public visibility at times rather than constantly feeding the machine that helped make her famous.
We don't need to know every reason.
The ability to choose what belongs to the public and what remains yours is something every woman deserves. And if she wants to take time for herself, she should. We all should. End of story. No notes.
Kylie Jenner is Every Woman. Just Not Every Woman's Bank Account.
No, most women cannot relate to Kylie's homes, private travel, designer wardrobes, or multimillion-dollar business deals.
Obviously.
We do, however, understand some part of her experience.
Being judged. Feeling inadequate. Wanting love. Making mistakes. Reinventing herself. Protecting her children. Making more mistakes. Wanting to be taken seriously. Peace. Boundaries. Genuine friends. Making mistakes again. Bouncing back. Learning to love ourselves.
Almost every woman knows what it's like to have someone offer an unsolicited opinion about her appearance, her parenting, her relationship, or her choices.
Almost every woman knows the frustration of having her achievements minimized because someone believes she had an “advantage.”
And, many know the exhaustion of trying to explain themselves to people who have already decided what to believe.
Kylie's circumstances are extraordinary. Her humanity isn't.
We don't have to share someone's lifestyle to recognize her experiences. We don't have to approve of every decision to acknowledge her growth. We don't even have to like her. We simply have to remember she's a person. A human being. Just like me. Just like you. Human.
A $50 Million Reminder to Keep Dreaming
Kylie said in a recent interview following the VS Show, "I grew up watching the VS fashion show. How could anyone say no?"
Kylie Jenner, who grew up watching the Angels and has spoken about the significance of that dream, walked onto the runway wearing a $50 million Fantasy Bra. Not just any fantasy bra. The fantasy bra.
The internet immediately began debating whether she deserved it.
Me? Well, I saw something else.
I saw a woman who had spent much of her life being told what she wasn't, stepping into a moment that represented something she had once imagined from a distance. I saw a mother whose children could witness her achieving something extraordinary. I saw a woman who had been criticized for her appearance since childhood standing in front of the world, wearing wings. And, then a thought hit me. I wondered about how many women abandoned their dreams because they began believing the people who told them they're not worthy in some way.
Here's a woman who had every reason to become consumed by public opinion.
Instead, she kept living.
She built businesses. She became a mother. She made mistakes. She grew. She reconsidered decisions. She pursued opportunities. She kept becoming.
None of that means she hasn't suffered. None of it means her life is perfect. It means she hasn't allowed the public to write the entirety of her story.
That takes something money alone cannot purchase.
Courage.
The world can argue over whether she deserved to wear those wings. Kylie Jenner was already wearing them.
There's a lesson in that for every woman who has ever been told she isn't enough.
Keep dreaming. Keep growing. Keep becoming.
You don't have to wait for the world to agree that you're worthy.
Maybe Kylie Was Never the One We Needed to Examine
Which brings me back to the question.
Why are we so determined to disqualify certain women from the very empowerment we claim to champion?
Is it their privilege? Their beauty? Their money? Their confidence? Their mistakes? Or, is it something about their lives that makes us uncomfortable with our own?
Dr. Chérie Carter-Scott wrote in If Life Is a Game, These Are the Rules, under her Rules for Being Human:
“Others are only mirrors of you.”
She goes on to suggest that what we love or hate in another person may reflect something we recognize within ourselves.
It's a philosophy worth sitting with, even if it doesn't explain every criticism or disagreement, because the next time we feel compelled to tear apart a woman we've never met, perhaps the first question shouldn't be what's wrong with her.
Perhaps it should be: "What is it about her that bothers me so much?"
That is my position. That is New Face's position. Not blind admiration. Not celebrity worship. Not an excuse for bad decisions.
A demand that we remember the human being before we pick up the stones.
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