“Does Brittany look oppressed to you?” Gabriel Hugoboom asked, gesturing toward his wife.
Mrs. Hugoboom did not. The model, clad in thigh-high black boots, was perched on a cream-colored couch in the couple’s new apartment, poking fun at her critics. As editor in chief of Evie, a women’s publication opposed to what she calls “modern” feminism, Mrs. Hugoboom has been accused of participating in her own subjugation and undermining women’s rights, claims she finds ridiculous and unfair.
“There are all these people that are so triggered and angry that we exist,” she said. Those seeking left-wing views had other publications to read, she added: “Why can’t there be one that offers women an alternative?”
Behind her, floor-to-ceiling windows showed off a dizzying view of the city’s skyline. The turnkey rental in Midtown Manhattan was a work in progress, since half of the Hugobooms’ belongings were still in Miami, where they had lived until last month. But it was spotless, luxurious and spacious enough for them to fit their two young daughters (as well as the relatives who often fly in to help care for them) and work from home on building what they call their “feminine” business empire.
The Hugobooms, both 33, are co-founders of two companies: Evie, a glossy magazine and website that Mrs. Hugoboom has described as a “conservative Cosmo,” and 28, a menstrual cycle-based wellness app backed by the Silicon Valley billionaire Peter Thiel. Through 28, they sell a supplement called “Toxic Breakup” for women to use after quitting hormonal birth control, and through Evie, they release limited-edition clothing — most recently, a corseted “raw milkmaid” sundress “inspired by the hardworking dairymaids of 18th-century Europe.”
“We want to build the one-stop shop for femininity,” said Mrs. Hugoboom, who is the public face of both businesses.
Femininity does not mean feminism, which Mrs. Hugoboom doesn’t define as equal rights but as a self-hating movement that is anti-family and anti-male — one that shames women who “choose conventional roles.” Despite running two companies, she is particularly critical of what she calls “girlboss feminism.”
Her interpretation of that term — which went from broadly celebrated to roundly dismissed in the 2010s — is that it encourages women to “be just like men” to succeed in corporate fields. Such messaging, she says, has made women anxious, lonely and unfulfilled. Instead, she believes, faith, family and love, not “casual sex, careerism or ideological activism,” supply the greatest satisfaction.
“I think more women want a soft life, a beautiful life, than feeling all this pressure to do all these things,” Mrs. Hugoboom explained.
At first glance, Evie seems nonpartisan, publishing content daily about topics like award season red carpets and styling skinny jeans. But readers who click past “hot girl” health trends and Adam Brody appreciation posts will find articles that promote positions that are fringe even within conservative circles — criticisms of no-fault divorce and I.V.F., for example — packaged in a fun and approachable format. (A typical Evie headline: “Amy From ‘Love Is Blind’ Is Right To Be Hesitant About Birth Control.”)
The publication assumes that the Evie reader aspires to be a wife and mother, even while it acknowledges that she has some options: She can study and work (just not at the expense of a family), she can be sexually adventurous (with her husband), and she can even delay pregnancy (by using “natural” fertility tracking methods).
Evie positions motherhood as under attack, citing falling birthrates, despite polling showing that most Americans still want to have or have children. “Be a rebel. Start a family,” reads a full-page ad for Evie that depicts a shirtless man sensually kissing a pregnant belly.
Stephen K. Bannon has gushed about Evie’s “incredible coverage.” Candace Owens, a prominent right-wing commentator who recently started her own media platform geared toward women, is a longtime fan; she said her first photo shoot appeared in Evie. So is Brett Cooper, a leading conservative YouTuber who hosts a show aimed at Gen-Z women. “I think they were definitely ahead of the curve,” she said of Evie.
Even critics of Evie acknowledge the appeal of its messaging. “It’s a perfectly pretty gateway drug to ideologies which exist to protect the privileged and further disenfranchise the marginalized,” Sara Petersen, author of the book “Momfluenced,” wrote in a Substack post.
Emily Amick, the author of “Democracy in Retrograde” and a former counsel to Chuck Schumer, the Senate minority leader, said that Democrats needed to take seriously Evie and its contemporaries in what she called today’s conservative “girly-pop ecosystem.” These media outlets, she added, are zeroing in on “moderate, apolitical, exhausted women” who are broken down by the lack of support for working mothers.
“By weaving identity politics and conservative values into lifestyle and wellness content, the right has been able to capture a cohort of women voters that the left never dreamed they could lose,” Ms. Amick recently wrote on her Substack, Emily In Your Phone.
The Hugobooms are explicit about wanting to reach women who feel left behind. “Millions of women have been forgotten by the publishing world,” reads a statement on Evie’s “About” page. “Women are no longer buying what they’re selling. And if you’re reading this, we have a feeling you’re going to feel right at home.”
An Eve Who Will Save the World
As a teenager, Mrs. Hugoboom, who was born Brittany Martinez, read popular teen and women’s magazines and participated in their model searches, once winning an Elle Girl competition. She was raised Catholic by parents who often moved around the country because of her father’s job in banking, and said she became a “tradcath,” a trendy term for Traditionalist Catholic, around a decade ago.
“Now I prefer the Latin Mass,” Mrs. Hugoboom said. “One of my friends is an exorcist. I love that stuff.” Mr. Hugoboom proposed to her in front of the Vatican.
She met Mr. Hugoboom when they were both 18-year-old students at the University of Dallas. He grew up in Memphis as one of eight children of naturopath parents. “They were very MAHA, before MAHA was even a thing,” Mr. Hugoboom said, referring to the “Make America Healthy Again” slogan of Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.
On one early date, Mr. Hugoboom recalled, he took Mrs. Hugoboom to Whole Foods to introduce her to “real cheese,” as opposed to the “American” kind.
“You probably saved me from obesity,” said Mrs. Hugoboom, who joked that she grew up on Lunchables.
The Hugobooms eventually dropped out of college and moved to Los Angeles, where she modeled for companies like Bebe and Adidas while he worked in creative development.
By the late 2010s, many women’s magazines had moved sharply to the left, influenced in part by the rising popularity of feminist online media such as Jezebel and The Cut. Mrs. Hugoboom loved pop culture and fashion, but the publications she read to learn more about, say, Taylor Swift, also featured articles about polyamory and Marxism. And nowhere, she said, could she find much positive content about marriage and motherhood.
Thus the idea for Evie Magazine was born: a stylish publication rooted in celebrating “femininity.” It would be as escapist and aspirational as any other mainstream women’s magazine — except Evie cover girls would not be politicians in power suits but the type of women who might compete in beauty pageants two weeks after giving birth to their eighth child (which their most recent cover girl, the Utah influencer Hannah Neeleman, actually did). The magazine’s name is a riff on the first woman in the Bible: “Eve screwed the world,” Mrs. Hugoboom said, “and this is a new Eve who will save the world.”
Mrs. Hugoboom said that one media mogul told the couple that their concept was doomed because there was no such thing as a conservative woman, and that the best-case scenario was that women would marry conservative men and adopt their views. “I think women are a little more interesting than that, and they have their own thoughts,” Mrs. Hugoboom said, still bristling years later.
They officially launched in 2019, eventually raising money from private angel investors that the Hugobooms declined to name. (One investor, Mrs. Hugoboom’s father, is also listed as an executive in records for Evie’s holding company.)
“She’s Classier than Cosmo, Sexier than Refinery29, and Smarter than Bustle,” Ms. Hugoboom wrote in an article for the website Quillette announcing her new venture. Conservatives needed a magazine like Evie, she argued, because ignoring pop culture came at their own peril: “We need to involve ourselves in the creation of pop culture, and thereby help change how that category is defined.”
Many of Evie’s writers have been affiliated with conservative institutions, and the website regularly publishes content that reflects today’s conservative positions, including opposition to abortion, transgender rights and vaccines, as well as support for the Trump family. People have labeled Evie “far-right,” which the Hugobooms find irritating; they repeatedly called it a “double standard,” arguing that outlets like Teen Vogue and Refinery29 aren’t always described as explicitly left. The couple, both of whom voted for President Donald J. Trump, said they felt that the way conservatives were portrayed in mainstream media was outdated.
They pointed to perspectives that are unconventional for a right-leaning publication. For example, Evie publishes adventurous and explicit sex tips, albeit with “married women only” disclaimers. Evie has advised women who say their partners pressure them into unwanted sexual acts to resist. Writers for the site have called out misogyny in online “manosphere” and “incel” communities. And Evie models wear string bikinis and crop tops because in the words of one Evie writer, “modest isn’t always hottest.” To the dismay of some conservative readers, the sundresses that Evie has sold are so low cut that, as Mrs. Hugoboom once joked on X, “side effects may include an unplanned pregnancy.”
Mrs. Hugoboom said this modern and uniquely “feminine” perspective is why they have a diversity of readers, and why they believe they were early to cover many topics that have now filtered into the mainstream, including criticism of hookup culture and the need for greater dialogue around women’s hormonal health. The Hugobooms provided The Times with an analysis by the marketing agency Iron Light that found similar levels of Democrats and Republicans among their subscribers.
In February, Evie’s social content garnered about 100 million views, according to an internal report the Hugobooms provided from the analytics tool Sprout Social. Evie’s social media following, which is about a half-million people across its platforms, is significantly smaller than its competitors (Cosmopolitan, for example, has more than four million followers on Instagram alone), but Evie’s following showed strong growth during the same time some competitors experienced a decline, according to the limited data the couple shared.
The Hugobooms declined to share more detailed growth data about Evie, saying that the information was too sensitive because they plan to raise a second round of funding. But page views and subscribers may not be the point.
The couple said they are inspired by Glossier, the international beauty brand that had its roots in a blog with a relatively small but loyal follower count. Within a decade, it was a billion-dollar business turning out product after product.
Breaking Up With Birth Control
Soon after they launched Evie, the Hugobooms started brainstorming their next venture. Maybe a clean beauty brand? What about a “classically feminine” line of lingerie? They grew interested in women’s fertility because many women Mrs. Hugoboom knew were having trouble getting pregnant, she said, adding that they wanted to develop a product that would “empower” women to understand their bodies.
Through some fortuitous networking, they landed a meeting with Mr. Thiel and asked him to invest in a wellness app based on a typical menstrual cycle.
Mr. Thiel, who once suggested women’s suffrage was bad for America, did not seem like a natural investor in femtech. But he is one of many influential conservatives who believe declining birthrates pose a threat to economic growth and societal well-being
They pitched him on “the fertility crisis,” Mrs. Hugoboom recalled.
“He was like, ‘And no one else is doing this?’ And it was like, ‘No, no one else,’ and he was like, ‘OK, sounds like a good idea,” she said. A spokesperson for Mr. Thiel confirmed that he personally invested $2 million in the app, 28. (They raised $3.2 million in total.)
Natural family planning methods involve making decisions based on awareness of fertility windows. The app suggests foods and exercises for different stages of a woman’s cycle — “lazy girl glutes” and grass-fed butter during the luteal phase — along with workout videos, recipes and emotional guidance. It also pushes a message that hormonal birth control is bad for you. “Goodbye toxicity,” one advertisement reads for the birth control “detox” supplements it sells through the app.
The annual print editions of Evie include ads for 28. The website has published dozens of critical articles about hormonal birth control, along with critical articles about other, non-hormonal forms of birth control, such as copper I.U.D.s and even condoms. And it runs alarming stories about women experiencing deadly side effects from hormonal birth control, such as blood clots, even though the risk of clots is extremely rare — in fact, women are more likely to develop clots in pregnancy.
Evie is “pro-life, obviously,” Mrs. Hugoboom said, but she rolled her eyes and shook her head when asked if she believed all birth control should be banned. “If you don’t want to be a mom, don’t be a mom,” she said. “No one should force you to be one. It’s hard work. It’s harder than being a girl boss.”
Given the pill’s known side effects, there have been increasing calls for doctors and researchers to take women’s complaints about adverse reactions more seriously. But severe complications are rare. By planting the idea that birth control is dangerous, both Evie and 28 are serving a larger political agenda, critics say. They point to conservative politicians and powerful groups such as the Alliance Defending Freedom that are trying to restrict access to contraception.
Katie Gatti Tassin, the co-host of the culture and politics podcast “Diabolical Lies,” said she recently realized while in the middle of recording an episode about Evie that she herself had been influenced in this way. Ms. Gatti Tassin, 30, quit the pill in 2022 because of a vague sense she should “get in touch” with her body’s natural cycle, she said. But it wasn’t until she recorded the episode for her show that Ms. Gatti Tassin realized she had been swayed by anti-contraception social media content from wellness and lifestyle influencers.
“If somebody like me, who sits around all day thinking about feminism and lefty politics, is still feeling a little bit weird about birth control, I think that speaks to the potency of the project and the approach they are taking,” Ms. Gatti Tassin said.
Not In Their Nature
Back at the Hugobooms’ apartment, as the sun set below the skyline, their two daughters, ages 3 and 1, wandered in with Mr. Hugoboom’s sister, who was on babysitting duty. The baby, dressed in pale pink, sat in Mrs. Hugoboom’s lap and fed her mother cheese crunchies as she continued to talk about her businesses. The scene could have easily appeared in a mid-2010s magazine profile of a female founder striving for a work-life balance, embodying the exact sort of feminism Mrs. Hugoboom denounces.
But Mrs. Hugoboom sees no tension in the fact that she is one of a growing number of female conservative content creators whose platforms promote a return to old-fashioned gender roles, even though their own career trajectories defy those traditional norms. Nor is she particularly interested in debating whether it might not be feminism, but instead a severe lack of structural support — affordable child care, paid parental leave — that has left American women feeling unsupported and alone.
Some see Mrs. Hugoboom as following in the footsteps of famous anti-feminist figures like Phyllis Schlafly, who secured their own professional success by opposing policies that would bring about greater equality between men and women. Unsurprisingly, Evie writers have praised Mrs. Schlafly, calling her a “proud housewife” and a “winner.” But Mrs. Hugoboom said that she has no mentors, and that she was unsure what the future held for her.
At times her eyes lit up as she discussed all of the new products she and her husband might one day release: TV shows, podcasts, more supplements. (Along with Glossier, Mr. Hugoboom also cited Hello Sunshine, Reese Witherspoon’s media company, as an inspiration.) Or, Mrs. Hugoboom mused, perhaps she would end up “with six kids, maybe teaching Pilates part time.”
Despite the years of labor she has put into building the two businesses, she insisted that she believed most women weren’t cut out for hard-charging careers.
“I think when most women try to do that, they fail,” she said. “Then they feel upset about it, when it’s not really in their nature.”
Stephanie Castillo and Kirsten Noyes contributed research.
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