Lily O’Farrell’s feminist cartoons elicit knowing eye rolls. From almond mums to gender essentialism, O’Farrell satirizes the biggest problems facing women today.
For most, the phrase “political cartoon” brings to mind the outdated caricatures of stuffy broadsheet newspapers. White, male politicians with exaggerated facial expressions, red in the face from the effort of shouting over one another. For Lily O’Farrell, aka Vulga Drawings, cartoons are a way to laugh in the face of injustice, converting big ideas into quick quips in a speech bubble.
Feminist cartoonist was not the job title O’Farrell had always envisioned, though not from a lack of passion or talent. “I had always really enjoyed drawing, but I wasn’t considered to be academically good at it.” While her classmates got busy painting fruit bowls in muted watercolor shades, Lily harbored a desire to draw strange, unnerving characters, often in the form of lanky men with giant Adam’s apples.
With a degree in sociology and a penchant for mischief, 22-year-old Lily spent most of her part-time waitressing shifts doodling with a biro on the back of receipts. At the time, she was a permanent fixture in the local stand-up scene: “I used to meet with a sketch comedy group on a Tuesday, and we would pitch our ideas. I’d write ten sketches a week, so I’d always have some leftover.”
She started putting the recycled jokes into speech bubbles and cartoons, which she uploaded to Instagram. The responses from women with similar experiences were instantaneous and overwhelmingly positive.
“It started to pour out of me and became the most cathartic outlet for the rage that I had built up over the years. Boyfriends, friends, men that I encountered when I was waitressing, awful chefs, cat-callers. I was only 22, but I had what felt like decades of pent-up anger.”
After taking on a salary-paid job, the London-based artist swapped her receipt pad for an iPad and started drawing digitally, posting cartoons on a more frequent basis. Her growing audience began submitting their own experiences of everyday sexism for her to draw, forming a community based on a mutual hatred for the patriarchy.
“One issue that came up again and again was the wifey versus whore complex,” she says, “I had always been quite promiscuous and open about my sex life and my desires, because why wouldn’t I? It never occurred to me not to be.”
“That blew up in a way that I’ve never seen, still to this day. There were 100 new likes every time I refreshed it. People were commenting: ‘I’ve had this my whole life, and I’ve never seen it put into words!’ That’s also when the first round of trolls appeared and never left.”
“I kept encountering men who didn’t want to date me because I wasn’t wifey material. So I made a cartoon about it, about those two categories that men place women in. That blew up in a way that I’ve never seen, still to this day. There were 100 new likes every time I refreshed it. People were commenting: ‘I’ve had this my whole life, and I’ve never seen it put into words!’ That’s also when the first round of trolls appeared and never left.”
O’Farrell’s drawing career began to take off at the same time that lockdown hit in 2020. Stuck inside like most of the world, there was little room for Lily to escape the hate messages. “I would truly say, like 95% of these men were white and often very young, aged between 15 and 25, usually with an American or British flag in their bio.”
“For them, it was a knee-jerk reaction. They were angry without taking the time to think about why they were angry. I just started to engage with them. I learned quickly that anger doesn’t work. It’s like fighting fire with fire. To meet someone on their level and encourage a discussion was helpful. I found a lot of them to be very young, isolated men online, which is when I started to learn about incel ideologies.”
“It’s like fighting fire with fire. To meet someone on their level and encourage a discussion was helpful. I found a lot of them to be very young, isolated men online, which is when I started to learn about incel ideologies.”
O’Farrell’s first introduction to the manosphere was a great source of inspiration for her cartoons, and led to her eventually publishing a pamphlet about incel culture, which became popular in schools. Her movement toward longer-form, heavily researched content attracted partnerships with organizations such as Refuge and the Centre for Countering Digital Hate.
“They needed someone to read the reports that they were publishing and reproduce them in a funny, accessible way. I think after years of doing silly, funny jokes about men, while I still love doing them, I got bored, and I wanted to take on something bigger.”
In 2023, O’Farrell launched her documentary podcast series titled No Worries If Not, dissecting online feminist discourse through in-depth interviews with academics, influencers and creatives. “I get such a kick out of talking to people I find online. I once interviewed a witch that I found on Etsy who sells weight loss spells for £10.”
“I’d love to bring the podcast back for a third season. It would also be amazing to turn the cartoons into a short animated web series. A lot of my friends are comedians, and I’d love to get them doing voiceovers.”
“Mostly, I’d just like to keep making cartoons that speak to the experiences of women, making them easier to bring up in conversation and elicit change.”
All illustrations courtesy of Lily O’Farrell, Vulga Drawings.
