For all its flaws, Girls Does a good job at creating believable representations of older women

It's hard to write positively about Girls without deflecting accusations of apologia. Its lack of non-white characters is still a big problem, a caveat for even the most loyal fans. But one area where Girls does surprisingly well is its representations of older women. Thought still confined to secondary roles (unless there is a Brooklynite version of the golden-Girls in the works), for whatever reason, Dunham and crew gets this right:

That was Louise Lasser as B.D. (Beedee?), the photographer whose show is the first exhibit at the gallery Marnie works at. Lasser was the lead of Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, an important precursor to this show, and if you think this series is good at making you feel uncomfortable, you should probably check that one out post-haste. (It’s also a rich, involving tapestry of a show, filled both with amazing humor and unexpected poignancy. Highly recommended.) Also: The scene with B.D. was really beautiful, particularly when she talked about how TV always portrays old women as shells. (AV Club)

There’s also the fascinating, two-line meditation on the importance of representation. Coming from Lena Dunham of all people, Beedie’s observation that part of the pain of getting old is realizing the people on TV don’t look like you anymore comes as a surprise. We know from episodes like “Flo” that Girls is perfectly capable of showing the emotional lives of non-twentysomethings. Seriously, though: a line of reasoning that, when applied to race, could have come straight from the mouths of Dunham’s critics? That’s even more on-the-nose than the Gawker/Jezebel debate of a few weeks ago. Either Dunham’s trying to show she’s learned from her detractors or she’s giving them the middle finger. Or both. (Flavorwire)

Of course, Sunday's episode could have just been a flukey stab at diversity (or a nod to Dunham's critics -- this season has been noticeably meta), but one thing I've always appreciated about Girls is that the older girls (okay, the mothers and occasional bosses) are as flawed, and at times as immature, as the twenty-somethings. It might not seem like a lot, but in a world where women over forty are often cliched "mom-bots," humanity, in all its messiness, is always appreciated.