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There are now more than 7,600 Woolfers across the country, from New York City, Boston, San Francisco and Los Angeles, as you might expect, but also from Arkansas, Chicago and Maine. Collins, who spent a few weeks last month on a cross-country road trip with a new boyfriend meeting Woolfers in Memphis and Telluride, Colo., among other spots, has a new book, out in April, called “What Would Virginia Woolf Do?
And Other Questions I Ask Myself as I Attempt to Age Without Apology.” It is a sometimes wince-inducing primer on fashion, sex, marriage, divorce, money and health gleaned from her experience as Woolfer in chief, and with contributions from her Woolfer sisters. Collins details her adventures in the orgy tent at Burning Man (she and her ex brought their own sheets, and kept to themselves), her struggles with depression and her adherence to an expensive beauty routine that involves fake eyelashes and Botox.
But within a year of its founding, WWVWD, to use its colloquial abbreviation, had more than 1,300 members; the week after the presidential election there was an increase of another 1,000, Ms.
Collins said, with many seeking a way to marshal themselves for political action. Collins changed from “secret” to “closed” (meaning it can be seen by the public), begot subgroups, for those who wanted to focus on philanthropy, activism, business networking and writing.
Woolfers have also swapped houses and apartments, rented each other rooms and raised money for groups including the Center for Reproductive Rights and the Trust for Public Land.
In its breezy candor, the book is as appealing and appalling as the conversations of the Woolfers online, though it lacks the tartness and invective that occasionally erupts there, turning a you-go-girl group of self-affirmers into an unruly scrum. “We’re talking about super-candid things, and people have strong opinions.
Collins is indeed not only confessional, but also confrontational.
In 2013, in an article for Elle magazine, she wrote about being arrested three times: for assaulting her first husband, for assaulting his girlfriend and for violating an order of protection he had taken out against her, by overturning a coffee table. Collins is happy to share her labial regimen (see “coconut oil,” above), the minutiae of her sex life and the unraveling of her second marriage, which ended in part because of the meddling of a Woolfer, as it happens.“The marriage was strained, and I had been wanting a second dog for a while,” Ms. “My husband didn’t, but like most women I do most of the work around the house and pay my fair share.” She asked the Woolfers, in essence, “Am I a jerk if I just go ahead and get the dog?
Because when thousands of women get together on social media, what could possibly go wrong? If you’re talking about whether or not to let your 16-year-old have sex or whether to have an affair or how to tell your colleague at work that she’s a jerk, people will have strong responses.”When one long-married woman wrote about the heartache she was feeling because her lover of five years had broken up with her, many Woolfers were upset by her adultery, Ms.
Collins said, and she had to step in to remove comments that were aggressive, moralistic and vitriolic.