Call Her Dead
I haven’t read the New York Times article on Call Her Daddy. I find it disrespectful for the Grey Lady to publish an obituary despite never bestowing press on CHD in life. In fact, during its meteoric rise to the top of the comedy podcasts, Call Her Daddy barely got coverage outside of college blogs. A flail of a New York Post article (which spawned a back-and-forth between author and subjects) was the only noteworthy piece. Compare this to the prestige pub salivation over “the dirtbag left” and “weird Catholic Twitter” and whatever the NYT, NYMag, and New Yorker deem “the new punk” this week. But this should come as no surprise; capital-M Media gives airtime to its own friends and frenemies while real American culture brews in the background. It’s only fair CHD gets an in vivo look before it officially collapses.
Followers as of 5/20/20
The Call Her Daddy origin story isn’t that exciting: two hot, bored NYC roommates start posting rambling sex and dating confessions on YouTube, and strike it rich with a coveted partnership. They attract a massive following of young women who gleefully interact with them online (The Daddy Gang). It’s a twist on the influencer formula, but the same formula nevertheless.
The twist is not that two hotties got a media deal at a sports publication (that’s old hat), but that they moved to podcasts and, in no uncertain terms, absolutely crushed it. Alex Cooper and Sofia Franklyn (a.k.a. The Fathers) have the same even tans and Juvederm pouts as any Instagram model, so it was not an obvious play to record them hungover and ponytailed, squawking about blacking out the night before. But as they’ve done many times before, Barstool Sports president Dave Portnoy and the Barstool team knew a hit radio show when they heard one.
Podcasting is a platform that’s culturally dominated by drippy white guys (“A group of white men is called a podcast,” reads an oft-quoted Tweet) and TV recaps hosted by wine-drunk D-list bloggers. So, for a podcast, the hyperactive storytelling and outbursts of Call Her Daddy are completely aberrant. A dozen or more episodes in, the Fathers admitted to listening to other podcasts for the first time and realizing that they sound insane in comparison. They are consistently at Alex Jones/Matt Christman levels of rabid. Instead of railing against the New World Order or people who believe in the New World Order, they’re screaming about taking nudes and getting kicked out of clubs. I bet you $100 million they take a lot of Adderall.
Alexandra Cooper, a blonde, former D1 soccer star, is the dominant voice. She sort of yell-talks (“you guys”) in a clear, confident alto that’s easily placed at midfield. The success-daughter of a therapist, Alex studied and dribbled her way into scholarships at The Pennington School and Boston University. With a noted penchant for cleat-chasing off the pitch, she’s dated a Mets player and alludes to other high-profile athlete partnerships, which gave her a taste of fame. There’s little doubt that Alex, with a background in media and the existing YouTube channel, was the driving force behind CHD in the early days.
Sofia Franklyn, Alex’s roommate and (former) best friend, is the color commentator. She eyerolls through a consonant-less, Valley Girl-informed whine that I will admit I share (“yeww gizeee”). But, her bimbo party girl vocalizations are foiled by her occasional $10 words. A mysterious Utah native, her biographical information leaves more questions than answers. She went to university in Northern California for Econ? She got kicked out of said university? She’s a financial analyst? Her parents are immigrants? Early on, Barstool started selling shirts with her mugshot on it, adding to her legend.
[Note: I haven’t figured out where Sofia went to college freshman year (research IP), but, just for laughs, picture her pitching startups at Stanford or, even better, debating postmodernism with Dasha Nekrasova at Mills College.]
Format-wise, CHD weaves standup, sitcom, advice line, cultural critique, and storytelling. Lacking an agenda, CHD’s only regular feature is the hosts saying “Questions of the Week” in an inexplicable French/Cajun accent and then reading deranged Instagram DMs that aren’t always questions. Mostly, Alex and Sofia prattle on about whatever the hell they’d like, and the people LOVE it. Call Her Daddy has even out-performed Barstool’s golden child Pardon My Take (and its famous guests) for the #1 spot on the Apple comedy charts a few times. The Fathers have done this with only one guest - the incognito MILF Hunter, a friend of Alex’s - in nearly 2 years of the show. Guest #2, YouTube controversy queen Tana Mongeau, didn’t show up to record. A testament to their impact, Call Her Daddy was hilariously nominated for an iHeartRadio Podcast Award for “Best Advice/Inspirational Podcast” against Oprah. They didn’t win.
Call Her Daddy is ostensibly about sex and dating in the same way Throwing Fits is about men’s fashion. Somewhere between 10-100% of any given CHD episode is about sex. It’s true that nearly every episode has a sex tip, ranging in athleticism from Cosmo mag to gonzo hardcore porn (The Gluck Gluck 9000 is the most well-known stunt, if you’re looking for a challenge). But, the sex isn’t about expressing modern female sexuality. There is no feigned sensuality or “empowerment” injected, as is practically required these days. It’s about performance, whether impressing a partner or impressing yourself. Children of the 2000s, Alex and Sofia are Female Chauvinist Pigs informed by the likes of Kendra Wilkinson and Snooki. In this vein, when advice gets particularly outrageous, Sofia interjects with glossolalia of, “girl on girl, airtight, DP…!” as a nod to the ubiquity of broadband hardcore porn in the millennial zeitgeist.
The sex tips are often forgettable, unless they come with a Tucker Max-style tale of utilization. The parts that have me lol-ing on public transit range from mundane to bizarre, like describing their slow apartment elevator or an errand in New Jersey gone awry. There’s a story about Las Vegas and cucumbers that has to be heard to be believed. And one about stripping down in a luxury boutique. And one about a jalapeño seed.
Just as hilarious is their dating “advice,” which is usually sociopathic and verging on surreal. They encourage gaslighting, cheating, hacking accounts, stalking, catfishing, and other tools of manipulation. They describe using these methods to various success and share new schemes from listeners. With unflinching responses from “lie to him!” to “steal his identity!”, they only occasionally remind us that they’re joking, like a Nicole Mullen article come to life. If you think “toxic femininity” is an MRA invention, The Fathers’ dedication to the Art of War in relationships will prove you wrong.
From a sociocultural standpoint, it’s unclear if Call Her Daddy is a powerful Frankenstein creation of 3rd-wave sex-positive feminism and anti-woke comedy or a horseman of the apocalyptic trad-wave to come. Or both. From CHD’s immense popularity among college age women, I would guess it’s closely related to the OnlyFans epidemic. Both CHD and OnlyFans represent a pinnacle of sexual liberation, taken to grotesque ends.
If Alex and Sofia existed in the cancelable universe, they would simply be canceled. Alex and Sofia regularly double down on anti-feminist hot takes that would make Anna Khachiyan raise her brows. “If you’re a 5 or 6, you better die for the dick,” is one of many CHD mottos. I vaguely recall they did a rape apologia, a transphobia, and some SWERFism. And by not addressing them, they made it abundantly clear that they don’t even understand the intersectional nature of the multiplicity of their offenses.
Beyond defiance of liberal mores, CHD plays a bit too close to the edge. The Fathers freely criticize and mock the social media soup in which they exist. They poke fun at sponcon, spill tea about Vanderpump Rules castmembers, and once got in an ugly beef with the model wife of an NFL player. Sofia had a recurring bit reading Instagram posts “written” by the unborn baby of stars of ABC’s The Bachelor in a squeaky voice. And, while CHD is massively popular, its audience pales in comparison to that of Bachelor Nation. That’s not to say they have to play nice, but pop culture is not their forte.
Early this year, those of us who followed the Failing Upwards (RIPDYB) vs. Barstool Sports saga could feel a familiar tension in Call Her Daddy. Alex and Sofia began experimenting with more personal stories, which they admitted were bad for their personal lives. On the Barstool front, they were dropping too many hints that they were unhappy with their arrangements, regarding pay and having to come in to work. They were often excluded from office activities, which was often passed off as a joke. But sitting out is not a solid strategy for success in the Barstool fratmosphere. As the Jawnz Gods / Fit Boys learned, when you poke the bear, the gossipy little bros and chicks who love nothing more than inserting themselves into the narrative are happy to jump in.
The details of the CHD breakdown are being debated real time via back and forth posts by El Presidente and Sofia, whose boyfriend (an HBO exec) is accused of meddling in their negotiations in order to take them elsewhere. These behind-the-scenes machinations have led to estrangement between our hosts. However, to imply that this is the result of a singular event, or boyfriend, or “typical female backstabbing,” would be a mischaracterization and over-simplification. The situation is far more The Social Network than Mean Girls. When you’re talking in millions (intellectual property, book deals, merch, alcohol licensing), things get complicated.
I understand how quickly this happens and how overwhelmed Sofia must feel, hence her weak explanation on Tuesday. Last year, I was escorted empty-handed from a startup I had built with someone I really loved after similarly overplaying my hand (MY BOOK about Silicon Valley coming soon - lit agents DM me). Fortunately, I didn’t have thousands of irate sorority girls in my replies telling me to choke on cum. There’s no doubt that Sofia thought she was doing the best thing for the brand and the fans by prying CHD from Barstool. Good intentions... yadda yadda.
There’s talk of a replacement, or an Alex solo show, but the timing feels destined: could CHD have survived quarantine anyway? You could already hear the COVID frustration in their March episodes. Call Her Daddy is dependent on the serendipity of bar hopping and banging, and it exists outside of political reality. With the future of the future in flux, especially in NYC, what can Call Her Daddy provide outside of reading listener messages and rehashing old events?
No alternate future sounds enticing because, at the end of the day, Call Her Daddy is not about sex and dating, it’s about friendship. The way in which Alex and Sofia hyped each other up and held each other down was extremely enjoyable. And, with neither spouses nor heaven expected from us, isn’t a ride or die BFF the actual goal these days, anyway? For their own sake, I hope they work things out, on record or not.
Right now, Call Her Daddy is sitting at #1 for, I think, the first time, above Rogan and the New York Times’ The Daily. Ironically, this week’s episode is not hosted by an irreverent duo of girlfriends, but Dave Portnoy himself. El Pres wins again.
