In this week’s issue:

• Touch Grass: Crypto’s Cultural Reset

• It’s Giving: Indie Sleaze Redux

• Still Downloading: 3 Questions with Modash Baddie Whitney Blankenship

• Bible: Purge

• Bonus Palate Cleanser: Boys Club is a Hunk 

What to Expect from Babe (the unexpected, obvs)

Every Tuesday, at whatever time the data says is the best time, you’ll find Babe in your inbox. Each issue will look something like the one you’re reading now, only different. To keep things classy and somewhat organized, it will almost always include the following four elements. It will for sure serve.

Remember when crypto was all laser eyes, diamond hands, and bros telling bros to HODL? (New to crypto, I learned what HODL is through reading Camila Russo’s book on the rise of Ethereum—"HODL started as someone straight-up misspelling HOLD in an early Bitcoin forum. Now crypto folks use it as an acronym for 'hold on for dear life.'") 

Yeah, that era is rapidly becoming as dated as Redbox movie rental kiosks. OK, even if it isn’t rapidly doing so, let’s talk about it as if it were, right? Because voicing things into being—creating conversation and thought departure and an idea of how things could be, in theory and in reality—is as valid and essential as things actually existing. It’s how revolutions start: but what if we thought about it this way? And we are, after all, creatures of buzz and virality, a species with the power to will things into existence for better or worse. Like revolutionary socialist, orthodox Marxist, and anti-war activist Rosa Luxemburg famously argued, freedom is always the freedom of those who think differently, n'est-ce pas?

And the crypto space is/seems to be (I’m very new to it, so what do I know?) experiencing a cultural reformation that feels less like a pivot and more like a paradigm shift. Like, it’s maybe trading toxic maximalism (and fingers crossed, masculinity) for something wildly more interesting: actual utility, accessibility, and *gasp* inclusion.

It's not just about adding women to crypto—which kinda screams First Wave Feminism, essential and with merit but we’re past that shit. Instead it's about reimagining what crypto culture could be when it's not built on energy drink capitalism and Reddit-bro energy. It’s about seeing, which indeed we are, the rise of communities and projects that prioritize education over evangelism, sustainable growth over pump-and-dump schemes, and genuine innovation over performative disruption.

This shift isn't just cosmetic. It's fundamental. Sure, it will and already has encountered some stumbles, setbacks, and fuckups. Those are all to be expected. But the core of the new face of crypto—which is actually the core of crypto as professed and championed by Vitalik Buterin, the founder of Ethereum, and Satoshi Nakamoto, the pseudonym for an anonymous computer programmer or group of programmers who created cryptocurrency—seems to be more about coding, teaching, building communities, and most importantly, making the space more accessible to everyone who's been standing outside the club wondering what all the fuss is about.

Speaking of making crypto more accessible—early this morning I attended the first of 16 classes for a Web3/crypto/AI program called SheFi. It’s kinda like the MBA of Web3, minus the six-figure debt and corporate buzzwords. Born during a run (because when else do the best ideas hit?), SheFi is out here doing something radical: making blockchain education feel less like a secret handshake and more like an open invitation.

Am I well-versed, or even semi-coherently versed, in Web3, crypto, or AI? Absolutely fucking not. This shit is fo-reign to me. But, I like doing shit that feels hard (to me). Especially when it involves historically male-dominated spaces. 

Report from the field: this morning’s class was cool—several thousand women and nonbinary people from all over the world got on a Zoom call to learn about the evolution of the internet, the basics of blockchain, and wtf Web3 is.

Over the next eight weeks, we’ll be covering everything from NFTs, stablecoins, and wallets to understanding DeFi. (I know it’s decentralized finance and from what I’ve read I’m into its foundational concepts, but, I don't know it know it. And I’d like to.)

The goal? Get women ahead in the race to adopt financially transformative tools like crypto and AI. Because for real the future of finance shouldn't look like a tech bros-only clubhouse. It's not just about changing who's in the room—it's about completely reimagining how the room is built. (I'm calling Bobby from Queer Eye so he can get in there and do a remodel, k?)

pc: Sartorial Mag (student-run @ MSU)

From her art-filled home in Normandy (where cats casually rub up against gold-lacquered skulls), Whitney crafts global narratives for Modash.io while proving that goth aesthetic and tech strategy aren't mutually exclusive. 💀

Babe: You went from zero French connections to building a life in Normandy at 23. Now you're shaping global startup narratives from your home office. What's the most counterintuitive lesson about creating something from nothing that Silicon Valley completely misses?

Whit: I’d say that the most counterintuitive thing I’ve learned is that it’s not always about ruthless ambition. Sometimes, it’s about taking what life throws at you, and that you don’t always have to have an idea of where you’re going. You just have to keep moving. Being adaptable is the best skill you can possibly have. 

That, and you can be successful and kind. You can be successful and humane. I feel like Silicon Valley thinks the two are mutually exclusive.

Babe: Between painting in your spare time and crafting B2B content strategies, you seem to live at the intersection of art and analytics. How has straddling these supposedly opposite worlds shaped your view of what “good creation” actually means in 2025?

Whit: Good creation is vulnerability. I had a good think about this and about the super bullshit corporate answer I originally gave, and scrapped the whole thing. It’s about vulnerability. Because when you create something you really care about, and you put that out in the world, it’s terrifying. It’s taking a piece of yourself, and putting it on a pedestal under bright lights, and asking people to give their opinions on it.

This is ultimately what separates art from whatever it is you call what AI generates. AI generated visuals, writing, etc, all looks and feels terrible because it’s soulless. It all looks a little too perfect, and a little too polished. Real art is a piece of someone. It’s a piece of their soul. 

I think, if you really want to create something great – even in the context of B2B content – there’s still a level of yourself that’s getting added to that. Whether that’s in your tone, your analysis, or the way you interpret data. You’re still asking the world to judge what you create, and, by extension, you.

Babe: Indie sleaze aesthetics are having a moment—all about raw authenticity and chaotic documentation. Meanwhile, the influencer industry is often criticized for being too polished and curated. As someone crafting content strategy at Modash while rocking a (fucking rad) personal goth aesthetic, what's your take on how these opposing forces of “messy real” versus “perfect fake” are reshaping how we think about influence?

Whit: You know, authenticity is something that’s seeing a comeback as of late. Following the pandemic when TikTok really popped off, there was such a resurgence of this kind of unpolished, raw vine-style video. And during the pandemic, when we were lacking so much of that human connection, that felt real. Parasocial or not. 

I think we’re still looking for that in a way. I think it spread across other social networks too – especially Instagram, where before it had been all about the aesthetic and being perfect in that sense. Now we were seeing more raw experiences and authentic stories. 

And with that, we’re also getting that kind of perfectly imperfect aesthetic – like a home-decor influencer chopping a throw pillow right in the center to make it look like it recently cushioned someone’s lower back, to the fashion and beauty influencer spending 45 minutes crafting the perfect I-did-this-without-trying “messy bun.” But real authenticity is hard to fake – and real connection with your audience is even harder to fake. 

And some people want that perfect fantasy, right? But I think most of us are craving the rawness of someone who’s just like us. Those are the influencers that most brands are looking for.

PS: Subscribe now if you want in on this arithmetic. Miss the first issue? It’s right here.