Hollywood’s latest self-inflicted scandal landed squarely on a harmless ad and a red carpet gown, but the media mob acted like it uncovered a national conspiracy. In July 2025 the American Eagle campaign cheekily riffed on “great jeans” and quickly drew howls that it supposedly trafficked in eugenics and coded racial messaging. Megyn Kelly, on her July 28, 2025 program, rightly called out the overreaction and defended Sweeney as the target of cancel culture run amok.
The ad itself—tiny copyplay and a few glossy images—was spun by critics into evidence of sinister intent, a classic left-wing habit of turning every innocent cultural moment into a moral panic. Entertainment outlets explained how a joke about genes versus jeans was blown up into charges of promoting white supremacy, a stretch any reasonable person would laugh at if they weren’t so invested in outrage. The result was predictable: a feeding frenzy of virtue-signalling that punished a brand and a young actress for daring to be feminine and unapologetic.
Megyn Kelly didn’t hold back. She called the backlash absurd, mocked the “lunatic left” who saw enemies under every bed, and insisted Sweeney was simply advertising jeans—not a political ideology. Conservative commentators and even some Republican politicians echoed that sentiment, noting how quickly the mob rushes to weaponize language in order to cancel someone. That kind of reflexive condemnation of an innocent campaign is exactly why Americans are tired of cultural gatekeepers dictating who is allowed to be celebrated.
American Eagle tried to put out the fire with a straightforward defense that the campaign was about clothing and confidence, saying “great jeans look good on everyone.” That sensible corporate reply—stand by your creative work rather than grovel to Twitter mobs—should be the default in a free society where brands and artists should not be forced to perform penance for every conceivable misreading. The company’s response was met with more liberal hand-wringing instead of the maturity the occasion called for.
This wasn’t just small-time outrage; it drew national attention and even drew lines from political figures who saw the episode as emblematic of a deeper problem. White House communications staff and conservative leaders called out the hysterics, and voices across the right defended Sweeney’s right to work and be looked at however she chooses without being labeled an extremist. The political weaponization of fashion and advertising is a dangerous precedent that rewards cries of offense over common sense and fair play.
Kelly went further than defending the ad—she celebrated Sweeney as an example of feminine authenticity that Hollywood pretends it respects but often attacks when a woman simply chooses to be attractive and natural. That observation cut to the heart of a real cultural divide: many in the industry elevate manufactured outrage and surgically altered images while vilifying women who don’t perform permanent grievance. Conservatives who still value personal responsibility and honest celebration of beauty saw Kelly’s point as a refreshing pushback.
At bottom this episode is about much more than a pun or a dress. It’s about who gets to decide the boundaries of acceptable culture and whether a country that prizes free expression will let a vocal minority set the terms. The knee-jerk cancellations and moral panic tactics are corrosive to art, commerce, and common decency, and they deserve stern rebuttal whenever they crop up.
If Americans want a culture that values authenticity, creative expression, and plain common sense, they should refuse to let every harmless moment be turned into a trial by social media. Speak up for fairness, demand accountability from the outrage industrial complex, and don’t let virtue-signalling bullies dictate what normal life looks like.
 
					 
						 
					

