Over the past year, brave women have spoken out, toppling powerful abusers and harassers. In doing so, they’ve paved the way for a deserving wave of female management. It couldn’t have arrived soon enough. In an ELLE exclusive, we gathered 12 high-profile leaders who’ve come out of the #MeToo reckoning. Here, they tell their stories.

Robin Wright | Christiane Amanpour | Nicole Berry | Rachel Rosenfelt | Barbara Underwood | Christine Tsai | Kitty Block | Jennifer Salke | Alison Stewart and Tanzina Vega | Gretchen Carlson | Tina Smith

Photograph, Photography, Sitting, Room, Stock photography, Furniture, Portrait, Interior design,
Styled by Kendal Mae Boyle; hair by Ali Pirzadeh at CLM Hair & Make-up; makeup by Florrie White for Tatcha.
Wool jacket, $1,499, pants, $980, both, Jil Sander. Her own jewelry. Location courtesy of The Nadler Soho Hotel, London.

The season five finale of Netflix’s Beltway drama, House of Cards, closed with a shot of Robin Wright as First Lady Claire Underwood looking straight into the camera and delivering, with chilling authority, two words: “My turn.” It could serve as the campaign slogan of any woman in this portfolio.

It also wouldn’t have been a terrible line with which to wrap a show. In October 2017, actor Anthony Rapp had accused Wright’s costar and counterpart, Kevin Spacey, of sexual misconduct, which preceded dozens of similar reports against Spacey. Netflix quickly severed ties with the actor. The sixth season was already going to be the show’s last; with Spacey out, perhaps it was best to pull the plug. Wright pushed to continue. “We all felt, collectively, like, Let’s not drop this ball,” she says. “Let’s forge ahead and persevere. Complete the mission.”

So, on November 2, icy, indomitable Claire hit screens as leader of the free world, in a version of Washington even more cynically convoluted than our current reality. The tension was clear from the get-go: “What does that mean, her turn?” Wright says. “Who was she going to have to go up against? How hard will the fight be—this female in this position against men in the political system?” In addition to starring in and producing this season, Wright also involved herself more in the writing process. She even directed the show’s final episode. “It was, Pull up your bootstraps: We’re going in deep,” she says.

Wright started out on the daytime soap Santa Barbara at 18, and for decades was best known as a flaxen-haired Princess Bride named Buttercup. So it’s somewhat surprising for her to find herself as a bona fide action goddess. Yet last year Wright took on the role of the sword-slinging warrior-in-chief Antiope in Wonder Woman—one that she’ll reprise in the next installment. And there she was again, barking orders as Lieutenant Joshi in Blade Runner 2049.

"The beauty of getting older is you really don’t care what people think about you."

Wright knows she has Claire Underwood to thank for showcasing her knack for making everyone around her, male or female, look a bit like a weakling. That’s a feat of acting, of course, but it also reflects a personal evolution that Wright says took years. “When I was younger, I didn’t have the confidence to speak up when someone was crossing a boundary. You’re so caught up in, ‘Oh, if I speak my mind, I’ll be shunned. I won’t be liked; I’ll be fired.’ The beauty of getting older is you really don’t care what people think about you.” And when it’s your turn, you know exactly what to do: You take it.


Suit, Sitting, Portrait, Formal wear, Outerwear, Photography, Blazer, White-collar worker, Tuxedo, Neck,
Styled by Anatolli Smith; hair by Riad Azar for Oribe; makeup by Campbell Ritchie for Charlotte Tilbury.
Wool gabardine coat, Derek Lam, $2,850. Silk blouse, Equipment, $248. Wool trousers, Givenchy, $1,585. Brass hoop earrings, Jennifer Fisher, $275. Her own necklace and Diane Kordas ring.

Christiane Amanpour got an entry-level job at CNN 35 years ago, when the network was a three-year-old upstart founded by eccentric billionaire Ted Turner. American audiences came to know the newswoman on the front lines of global crises in 1990, when she reported on the first Gulf War. Now, to many viewers, Amanpour is CNN. But while her nightly news interview show, Amanpour, aired for a total of eight years on CNN International, she has been less known as an anchor. That’s about to change.

In November 2017, eight women accused PBS host Charlie Rose of sexual harassment,a number that ultimately grew to more than 30. His show was canceled. The next month, Amanpour was tapped to fill that opening, a changeover that became official this September with Amanpour & Co.—the “Co.” being a roster of respected journalists from PBS and NPR—which now runs on both CNN International and PBS.

During a press tour for the new series, Amanpour stated, “I believe in being truthful, not neutral.” So it’s no surprise that she doesn’t mince words about the circumstances that led to her new gig. “Given why Charlie Rose lost his slot, I feel it’s absolutely not just justified but really smart to put a woman in,” she says. “And not just any woman—a woman who has proved herself over decades of reporting, with every award in the book and a career with the evidence to back it up.”

"If a price isn’t paid, nothing will change... We will not settle anymore."

Asked about men ousted in the #MeToo uproar who’ve hinted at comebacks—her predecessor among them—she’s even more unflinching. “As long as these accusations are honest, and fair, and hold up potentially in court, then I think that a price has to be paid. If a price isn’t paid, nothing will change.” As Amanpour sees it, “This stuff has been building up, like sedimentary rock, for generations, and it’s now exploding because we won’t take it anymore. We will not settle anymore.” She adds, “And the next thing they need to do is give us equal pay for equal play.” So how did she handle that part of her new job? “I negotiated like a man.”


Fashion model, Clothing, Fashion, Shoulder, Fashion design, Neck, Joint, Dress, Outerwear, Fashion show,
STYLED BY ANATOLLI SMITH; HAIR BY RIAD AZAR FOR ORIBE; MAKEUP BY CAMPBELL RITCHIE FOR CHARLOTTE TILBURY.
Wool-blend jacket, $1,750, pants, $1,050, both, Monse. Gold and diamond earrings, Lagos, $2,400. Oxfords, Mansur Gavriel. Her own ring.

Nicole Berry took a somewhat unlikely route to the upper echelons of the art world. She spent eight years as a teacher, “subjecting poor fifth graders to my art history obsession,” then went back to school for a master’s in the subject at the University of California, Davis, and worked her way up in secondary-
market galleries. In 2011, she signed on as deputy director of Expo Chicago, where she saw the beauty of the job: “It touches all aspects of the art world,” she says, from artists to dealers to curators and museum directors.

Berry had only been in her new position as deputy director of New York’s Armory Show for 14 months when its director, Benjamin Genocchio, left after the New York Times reported that eight women had made sexual harassment allegations against him. Berry stepped into the top slot just in time to steer the 2018 show; the next one, this coming March, will be the first created entirely under her direction.

With some $100 million in art changing hands over the Armory’s five days, commerce remains at the event’s forefront, but Berry is bent on making the show a springboard for critical conversation, not just Instagrammability. Last March, she introduced a closed-door session for curators to discuss hot-button topics, such as cultural appropriation.

Berry also reports that she’s seen an increase in all-female program submissions, and more booths devoted to solo shows of female artists—plus strong female leadership emerging in many sectors of the art world. “I can’t tell you how many people came up to me after I got this position and said, ‘I’m so happy to have a woman in charge of a fair,’ ” Berry says. “The good news is, there are now a lot of women who are in charge of fairs.”


Clothing, Beauty, Shoulder, Photo shoot, Model, Dress, Photography, Fashion model, Portrait, Flash photography,
Styled by Anatolli Smith; hair by Tetsuya Yamakata for Kérastase; makeup by William Murphy for Nars.
Wool jacket, $1,790, top, $1,190, pants, $1,390, all, Ralph Lauren Collection. Brass earring, Jennifer Fisher, $145. Rose gold ring, Vhernier, $5,100.

If there is an obvious through line to Rachel Rosenfelt’s career, it is the word New. She cofounded the ambitious online magazine The New
Inquiry
; helped design a critical journalism master’s program at New York City’s progressive research university, the New School; and, last March, became publisher and vice president of The New Republic, joining the team tasked with running and ultimately redefining a political and cultural magazine that, at 104, is decidedly not new. “People make fun of how redundant I am,” she says.

Rosenfelt’s predecessor at The New Republic was Hamilton Fish, who resigned in November 2017 after multiple women accused him of inappropriate conduct. Rosenfelt reports that her new job was not easily attained. “It was months and months of the most rigorous vetting process I’ve ever been through,” she says. “No phone went un-rung, let’s put it that way.” This, to her, was ample indication that TNR was seeking the right person for the job—not just the right woman to remedy its subpar optics. It is, in many ways, a bold appointment. At 33, Rosenfelt has been alive roughly as long as the magazine’s legendary former literary editor, Leon Wieseltier—later exposed in the press for his long record of gropes and lecherous remarks—once reigned. After the failure of older male leaders like Fish and Wieseltier, the appointment of a young woman comes as a welcome change. “Whether I can walk the walk, it’s sort of a binary,” she says. “Either I can or I can’t.” And if there’s skepticism on the basis of her gender? On that, she is frank. “I don’t give a damn.”


Chin, Portrait, Human, Forehead, Businessperson, Photography, Official, White-collar worker, Suit, Portrait photography,
Hair by Riad Azar for Oribe; makeup by Campbell Ritchie for Charlotte Tilbury.

“In my life, a challenge has brought out the best in me, or at least brought out a lot of energy and strength,” says Barbara Underwood. So when the New Yorker reported in May that four women had accused her then boss, New York attorney general Eric Schneiderman, of domestic violence, she snapped to attention. “It all happened very fast,” says Underwood, who had been the state’s solicitor general for 11 years. In less than 24 hours, “we learned about the allegations; we learned that the attorney general was stepping down and that I would be acting attorney general.” The next day, she says, “I remember just feeling, ‘This is the time to be strong. We have great work in the pipeline. This office is more than one person. Let’s go.’ ”

On June 14, just three weeks later, she made a different kind of history by filing a suit against the nonprofit organization of a sitting president. The Trump Foundation, Underwood alleged, “was little more than a checkbook for payments from Mr. Trump or his businesses to nonprofits, regardless of their purpose or legality.” (The Trumps deny that the claims have any merit and filed a motion to dismiss the lawsuit. It was denied.)

The attorney general’s team of 700-plus lawyers has been in overdrive, filing more than 150 legal actions against the administration. And they’re winning: The office defeated the first two travel bans; forced the administration to backtrack on environmental regulations for smog pollution and energy efficiency standards for appliances; and won a preliminary injunction against terminating DACA.

Underwood, who clerked for Justice Thurgood Marshall and has argued 20 cases before the Supreme Court, has also advocated for greater state protection of abortion rights. “Even if the federal protection of the right to reproductive choice is greatly diminished or eliminated,” she says, “the states can still—and should still—protect and provide.”

On November 6th, Democrat Letitia James won the race against Republican Keith H. Wofford to succeed Underwood as attorney general (Underwood didn't run; “Running for office is not my strength,” she says simply). James will be the first black woman to hold statewide office. In her victory speech, she pledged to continue Underwood's legacy of challenging the Trump administration.


Face, Hair, Photograph, Eyebrow, Facial expression, Smile, Beauty, Head, Chin, Portrait,
Styled by Sarah Schussheim; hair by Ted Gibson for Starring by Ted Gibson; makeup by Hinako at the Wall Group; location: Smashbox Studios.
Silk neoprene dress, Lanvin. Brass hoop earrings, Jennifer Fisher, $220. Malachite and diamond pendant necklace, Roberto Coin, $1,450.

It might sound laughable for a Silicon Valley venture capitalist to say her firm isn’t just out to make money. But 500 Startups, cofounded in 2010 by Dave McClure and Christine Tsai, has always had a grander mission: to be tech’s most diverse seed fund and accelerator. As such, it has invested some $350 million, according to Crunchbase, in more than 2,000 technology start-ups, including online vintage-fashion mecca TheRealReal and 3-D printer manufacturer MakerBot. Currently, 28 percent of these companies have at least one female founder.

So it came as a heavy blow when McClure, who had become known as a larger-than-life force in the business, was outed in a June 2017 New York Times report for sexually harassing several female entrepreneurs. After his ignominious exit, Tsai assumed the role of CEO and was left to clean up the mess. Chuckling, she recalls a scene from the Pixar movie A Bug’s Life, when Hopper the grasshopper talks management theory. “First rule of leadership,” he says. “Everything is your fault.” Among the questions swirling, internally and externally, around 500 Startups: Was the fund, founded on such an idealistic philosophy, tainted beyond repair? And would Tsai herself, a woman who’d never held a CEO title, not to mention a self-described “strong introvert,” have the charisma to succeed? “Dave has a really large personality, and people were enamored with him,” Tsai says. She will be the first to tell you: “That’s certainly not me.”

When the crisis hit, instead of panicking, she decided to play to two key strengths: an instinct to empower others rather than take credit, and a talent for tuning in. “If you look at the pie chart of how much time I spend listening rather than talking, I’m sure the listening part is very big and the talking part is pretty small.”


Lip, Hairstyle, Chin, Forehead, Eyebrow, Tooth, Happy, Facial expression, Style, Jaw,
Styled by Anatolli Smith; hair by Tetsuya Yamakata for Kérastase; makeup by William Murphy for Nars.
Cotton-blend dress, Piazza Sempione, $1,095.

In February, Kitty Block was walking through Reagan National Airport when her phone rang. It was the chairman of the board of the Humane Society. “You get that sort of dizzy feeling,” Block recalls. “I was just standing there, and he was saying, ‘Can you hear me? I’m asking you to step up and run the organization.’ ” That same day, the chief executive, Wayne Pacelle, had resigned after multiple reports of sexual harassment. Block answered, “Yes, of course.” And then she walked right past her gate.

The Humane Society was better prepared than most organizations forced to replace executives overnight: Not only had Block worked there since 1992, but in fall 2017, she’d been named president of the affiliated Humane Society International. She’d also had the experience of being sexually harassed by a former boss. “I was keenly reminded of these feelings and emotions,” she says.

She knew the value of taking decisive action, to prove to the staff of more than 700 that “this is a place that will support them, and let them feel 100 percent safe in what they do,” she says. The consultancy Thruue, which facilitates culture shifts within corporations, began a yearlong stint advising the Humane Society this past March. Lesson number one: transparency. Block instituted a weekly email to update the whole staff on progress on key issues—whether it’s the ban on greyhound racing that finally hit the ballot in Florida or ongoing battles against Trump administration rollbacks to animal protections. For months, Block sent these emails faithfully, even when there was no news to report, “until people felt I was being truly honest with them.” In the past, she says, “I’d have thought if you don’t put something out, people should know everything’s fine! Well, when an organization goes through something like this, silence doesn’t necessarily mean that.”


Clothing, Fashion model, Beauty, Fashion, Photo shoot, Model, Dress, Photography, Long hair, Outerwear,
Styled by Sarah Schussheim; hair by Ted Gibson for Starring by Ted Gibson; makeup by Hinako at the Wall Group; location: Smashbox Studios.
Satin jacket, Blazé Milano, $2,240. Stetch-cady dress, The Row, $1,590. Gold ring, Roberto Coin, $1,550. Her own ring.

A longtime TV exec, Jennifer Salke has shepherded hits such as Glee at Fox and Modern Family at ABC. As president of NBC Entertainment for nearly seven years, she green-lighted the network’s crown jewel, This Is Us. The groundbreakingly diverse, inclusive nature of all three shows is no coincidence. Being “comfortable in conversations in and around emotion and the psychology of humans is one of my superpowers,” Salke says.

On October 12, 2017, television producer Isa Dick Hackett accused the head of Amazon Studios, Roy Price, of sexual harassment in the Hollywood Reporter. Price resigned days later. Salke was appointed to the top job in February, taking on a reported $4.5 billion production budget and, for the first time, hit-making responsibilities for screens both large and small. Add to that a major cultural upset within the company after Price’s ouster. On day one, “I started by walking up and down the halls introducing myself to people,” Salke recalls—something prior management clearly did not do. “I think people were in a state of shock.”

“I started by walking up and down the halls introducing myself to people... I think people were in a state of shock.”

Salke has over 100 million Amazon Prime subscribers worldwide to keep entertained and, more importantly, the mission of growing that number. With Amazon’s critic-adored Transparent headed into its final season, her game plan is to switch gears from niche shows to more widely appealing fare. It’s worth noting that among the shows Salke has announced so far, all are created by or starring women and/or people of color. What keeps her up at night? The question of how to harness Amazon’s pervasive, Big Brother–esque universe—the music division, books, Audible, Echo—to have the biggest possible impact: “When we have the unicorn, how are we going to make sure everybody knows about it?”

Clothing, Fashion, Waist, Photography, Neck, Beige, Pencil skirt, Photo shoot, Outerwear, Blouse,
STYLED BY ANATOLLI SMITH; HAIR BY RIAD AZAR FOR ORIBE; MAKEUP BY CAMPBELL RITCHIE FOR CHARLOTTE TILBURY.
From left, on Stewart: Blazer, $2,495, blouse, $1,295, trousers, $1,395, all, Alberta Ferretti. Hoop earrings, Jennifer Fisher, $175. Ring, Roberto Coin, $1,450. On Vega: Blouse, Giorgio Armani, $2,295. Skirt, The Row, $3,890. Hoop earrings, Jennifer Fisher, $220. Bracelets, $5,200–$9,200 each, ring, $1,650, all, Bulgari.

In August 2017, the host of WNYC’s The Takeaway, John Hockenberry, retired after complaints of sexual harassment and racially insensitive comments. In December, WNYC host Leonard Lopate was fired for inappropriate behavior. Their replacements were announced earlier this year: Tanzina Vega (right) in March 2018; and Alison Stewart (left), in July.

Alison Stewart

Live radio “is like getting on a roller coaster. You can’t stop. It’s on, and you go,” says Alison Stewart. In September, Stewart went live as the host of All of It in the WNYC afternoon block that Leonard Lopate had occupied for decades. The format: two solid hours of in-depth cultural conversation every afternoon. “It’s the intersection of the two things that I do best—live and long-form,” she says. “I’d like to open the door and let a few more people through.”

Letting more people through has arguably been Stewart’s MO since 1988, when she landed at MTV—a 22-year-old who seemed both fully herself and at ease being the smartest person in the room. In her formative professional years, she says, “I felt positive about myself. I felt like, Yeah, I’m one of the MVPs of the MTV News department! Why shouldn’t I be?”

As a “nerd for hire,” Stewart has hosted shows on NPR, ABC, and MSNBC; has reported for CBS; has led the first season of TED Radio Hour; and is a contributing editor at AtlanticLIVE, the events division of the Atlantic. She’s also on the roster at PBS, which this year weathered the ousters of Tavis Smiley and Charlie Rose.

Some years ago, Stewart recalls a work meeting with a male exec. “He only wanted to talk about why I was single—how I was almost 40 and really should consider expanding my [dating] options to older men.” (She didn’t report the incident. Like many women, “I had talked to HR once before [about a different situation] and was blown off.”) “I was in a very strong position,” she notes—she was no newbie; she had money in the bank and a deep résumé. She was able to shrug the moment off and move on. By contrast, “a young person who makes it all the way to New York City, makes it all the way to Today or PBS, has a ton of student loans, and then ends up preyed upon—what’s that young person supposed to do? That’s what makes me really angry: all the lost talent and all the lost careers.”

Tanzina Vega

Since Tanzina Vega took the helm of The Takeaway this past May—the daily hour-long news show that airs on nearly 250 stations nationwide—the program has covered topics such as women and rage, policing and surveillance, wealth distribution, and race. “I aim to escape the insane spin that is the daily news cycle and allow people to have the depth of conversation that I think is missing in the vast majority of news today,” Vega says.

After spending her twenties working in publishing, Vega went back to school for a master’s at CUNY’s Graduate School of Journalism. So she was in her thirties when she took paid internships at WNYC, the New York Times, and Reuters. She eventually landed reporting gigs at CNN, where she focused on race, inequality, and the criminal justice system; and at the New York Times, where she created her own beat about race and ethnicity in America. Vega grew up in public housing in Manhattan and attended public universities, and says that going back to school was a real risk. “I had to quit my job and take out student loans,” she says. “This couldn’t not work out, let’s put it that way.” Vega credits some of her success to a willingness “to do the jobs that other people didn’t want to do,” she says. “I don’t know a lot of people right now who, at thirtysomething years old, would gladly, from 6 p.m. to midnight on a Saturday, be making photocopies at the New York Times. I did that. I was just thinking, ‘How can I get this degree and keep it moving?’ ”


Face, Hair, Blond, Photograph, Hairstyle, Facial expression, Chin, Head, Portrait, Eyebrow,
STYLED BY ANATOLLI SMITH; HAIR BY TETSUYA YAMAKATA FOR KÉRASTASE; MAKEUP BY WILLIAM MURPHY FOR NARS.
Cotton bodysuit, Wolford, $250. Gold hoop earrings, Jennifer Fisher, $265.

July 6, 2016, is for Carlson “the date you never forget in your life—when I jumped off the cliff by myself.” In the first major gush in what became a torrent of accusations, she sued Fox chairman and CEO Roger Ailes for sexual harassment, winning a reported $20 million settlement. “It’s not like you wake up one morning and go, ‘Gee, I hope I become the national face for sexual harassment in the workplace,’ ” Carlson says.

“It’s not like you wake up one morning and go, ‘Gee, I hope I become the national face for sexual harassment in the workplace.’”

When, in December 2017, the CEO of the Miss America Organization, Sam Haskell, was ousted after his sexist and insulting emails about former titleholders were leaked to the Huffington Post, Carlson was in many ways his natural successor. Who better to chart a new course than a former Miss America (1989) who was now crisscrossing the country preaching female empowerment? She stepped into the “70-hour-a-week” role of chairman and within months was on Good Morning America, proclaiming, “We will no longer judge our candidates on their outward physical appearance.” Buh-bye, swimsuit competition.

On September 9, the Miss America competition—note: not pageant—premiered, and from the moment a pretty blonde stepped up to the mic and said, “From the state with 84 percent of the U.S. freshwater but none for its residents to drink, I am Miss Michigan, Emily Sioma,” it was clear that Carlson had engineered a major turnaround. You’d never have guessed it was the result of a months-long behind-the-scenes power struggle that one former winner described as “kind of a civil war.”

And yet Carlson remains. Given her post-Ailes fame, it’s almost hard to remember that she, too, ultimately lost the career she’d spent a lifetime building. “I killed myself to get to the level where I was, and to have it all taken away, for all the reasons you’ve read about, was obviously incredibly painful,” she says.


Clothing, Plaid, Pattern, Dress, Day dress, Tartan, Pattern, Fashion, Textile, Design,
Styled by Anatolli Smith; hair by Riad Azar for Oribe; makeup by Campbell Ritchie for Charlotte Tilbury.
Tweed dress, Adam Lippes, $1,450. Gold bangle, Gabriel & Co., $460. Suede sandals, Jimmy Choo, $695. Stylist’s own bracelet. Her own ring. For details, see Shopping Guide.

In late 2017, seven women accused Democratic senator Al Franken of sexual misconduct. He resigned soon after. On December 13, Tina Smith stood with her family at the Minnesota state capitol building as Governor Mark Dayton announced that he was appointing her to Franken’s freshly vacated seat. A reporter in the back of the crowd raised his hand: “Do you think you can do this?” As lieutenant governor, Smith had seriously considered a past run for governor, but had “literally never thought about running for Senate,” she says. So when Dayton, her boss, presented the opportunity, Smith had asked herself the same thing: Am I qualified? Am I capable? Finally, tossing and turning at 4 a.m. one day, it dawned on her: “Tina, why are you fighting this? This is what you clearly need to do, what you should do, what you want to do.”

Since then, Smith has been acclimating to a new life, flying back and forth to the capital each week and grinding through the unforgiving Senate schedule, with up to 17 meetings a day. At press time, Smith had introduced 38 pieces of legislation and signed on to another 270; written three provisions that have been signed into law; and held 100-plus events back home in Minnesota. (She’s running for reelection against state senator Karin Housley.) And she’s established herself as an across-the-aisle player, teaming up with Lisa Murkowski (R–AK) on a bill to improve mental health services in schools and helping shape the recent bipartisan farm bill.

Governor Dayton may have been the one to make Smith’s appointment official, but that reporter was the one who set it in stone. “I was thinking about all the women all over the country who are constantly underestimated by people who say, ‘How can you do that? Are you really capable of doing that?’ ” she says. So Smith squared her shoulders, looked back out at him, and said, “Do not underestimate me.”

On November 6th, Smith won the special election against Republican Karin Housley, taking 53% of the vote.

preview for The Replacements: In the Wake of #MeToo, These Women Have Taken Over Offices Vacated By Men

Photographed by Celeste Sloman. Styled by Anatolli Smith, Sarah Schussheim, and Kendal Mae Boyle.


This article originally appeared in the December 2018 issue of ELLE.

GET THE LATEST ISSUE OF ELLE