I’ll make a man out of you!

In this modern world of gender equality (ha! I wish) I really ought to be writing under a more progressive title than this. However, the only theme I could think of for this latest post is the loose connection of various activities that have previously almost exclusively been associated with men. I’m not suggesting that I am radically breaking down gender binaries, or that I’m contributing anything whatsoever to the fight against misogyny, so if you’re looking for radical feminism look away now! If, on the other hand, you’re looking for loosely connected entertainment, then feel free to peruse this post at your leisure!

The first of my masculinely-defined activities involved visiting a ‘top secret’ development facility for Ford of Britain. Now, women have been known to frequent these halls before (I think I even saw one in the distance during my visit. Might have been Steve with the ponytail though…you never know). On my visit to this top secret plant we had to go behind the scenes for a recce for an upcoming film shoot. This required the embracing of that notoriously fashionable accessory: the safety shoe. Steel-toed, bulky, and black. Need I elaborate how delightful they looked? What added to the glamour was the revelation that ‘there are no women in these parts’. OK our guide didn’t say it anywhere near as threateningly as that, and certainly not in the West Country accent I imagined, but essentially there were only male safety boots to be found. Now, I am not a small and delicately-footed woman but the smallest male shoes they could find swamped even my clown feet, making them ‘danger shoes’ rather than ‘safety shoes’ as I clambered about in two small leather boats that seemed to attract every wire within a 5 mile radius. Trip hazard central. Thankfully I left with my limbs, if not my dignity, intact.

The prosaically-termed theme of oversized clothing as a result of gender-stereotyped environments continued with another Ford-related day. Part of the shoot was located in their Heritage Workshop, full of old bangers and old boys who tinker with these life-size toys. It was actually such a great day, and the men who ran the workshop were an absolute hoot, but they were definitely men, and their overalls were definitely ‘man-sized’. As part of the shoot we needed to film a female mechanic, supposedly exhibiting how Ford was ‘challenging misconceptions’ in the workplace. Sadly no actual female Ford mechanics were available on this particular day (or in that particular county I expect), so I had to use all my finely tuned acting abilities and step up to the plate - or rather, the engine. My 5ft 4in frame hopped into the enormous overalls to a round of applause and a hefty amount of jeering from the surrounding men. They then presented me with some beautiful size 11 boots for me to stumble around in. I didn’t think I could look much more ridiculous until I was presented with the necessary mechanic’s plastic gloves. They only came in XL. With my entire body and all its extremities slipping and sliding around in this ‘man-sized’ get-up I proceeded to pretend to tighten a spark-plug. If that doesn’t count as the highlight of a career, I don’t know what does.

Rather surprisingly, and perhaps a little jarringly, I do have a serious note to add to this. When I was visiting my friend Corin at the weekend a certain article we had both read came up in discussion, and it looked at the dangers of these sorts of gender-stereotypes when it comes to the ‘male’ and ‘female’ body. For instance stab vests are designed to fit male torsos, so often female police officers find them too restrictive to wear, meaning they have to make the decision between being able to execute their job properly, and protecting themselves from harm. This is not a choice they should have to make. Even drugs are tested on the theory of an ‘average Joe’, i.e. an average male whose average weight, height and metabolism is far away from that of an ‘average Joanna’. And crash test dummies! No pregnant dummy has ever been tested in the driver’s seat, only the passenger’s, and because women tend to drive with their seat in a more forward position than a man, theirs counts as an ‘abnormal driving position’ and is therefore not guaranteed by the safety procedures in place for a man’s typical driving position. All this I found absurd and utterly terrifying, and it just shows how engrained this sort of everyday gender bias is in the system. Mind-boggling.

Anyway, we don’t want to go too far down the road of revolution do we? Don’t want to sound like a raging feminist, do I? Better stick to the safe silliness of my usual meaningless mutterings. And where was I going with this? Ah yes…pie. It always comes back to pie. So, after a week of these so-called ‘manly’ activities I had a girly date night planned with Barney. This girly date night, however, took on the structure of the very pie we were destined to consume, being packed with meaty manliness but cased in the external principles of soft and fluffy, girly pastry. Ok, that analogy doesn’t really work, and pie really isn’t a gendered foodstuff, I just wanted to somehow get it into this blog post that I had a very yummy pie with a very lovely lady. So there you go. I did.

The following day I was seen to partake of a genuine manly activity though, as my mum and I traipsed up to London to watch West Ham vs Huddersfield. On the way up we ended up sitting between two burly looking men with tattoos, already on their 3rd can of Heineken. Were I one to judge a book by its cover, or a wine by its label (which sadly in reality, but not proverbially, I probably am), I should have thought they were rather rough young gentleman, but I would have been very wrong…well marginally wrong. Ok, the language was a little hairy at times, and we did find out they were going to see some cage fighters, and one of them did have ‘Pain’ tattooed across his knuckles, which my mum almost mistook for ‘Spain’ and tried to engage him in a bit of ‘Buenos dias’. But in spite of all these things, they were actually quite sweet, and we discussed why football fans have such a reputation for violence when it’s a non-contact sport, whereas at cage-fighting the crowds tend to be entirely passive and polite in contrast with the bloody beating-up that’s unfolding before them. So some good intellectual fodder too!

The football itself was the most stressful 90 mins I have experienced for a long time. The language here was also choice, and the men around us were growing more and more outraged by the team’s utterly dreadful performance, many hurling quite graphic abuse and some even opting to leave at 60mins because we were losing 3-1. Somehow, some way, we came back to win 4-3 and spirits were visibly lifted. The effing and blinding of the crowd was replaced by the imaginative chants of ‘Irons’ on repeat. Although I’m not one for needless swearing there were some cracking songs to be heard, such as ‘3-1, and you f***ed it up’ on repeat to the tune of ‘Go West’. I, of course, did not encourage such singing and never once took part. I am merely a voyeur to this very vocal world. I was heard singing a rousing rendition of ‘I’m forever blowing bubbles’ though, but that’s a given!

So thus concludes my post on manliness and its misconceptions. Although there are still gendered stereotypes hanging over some of these environments, in truth I found almost all the men willing and open to women (not like that, come on guys!). Never once did I feel belittled, although I have never felt so ‘little’. This dream of a better world is a battle best won if we fight it together, and that’s been said time and time again because it is a universal wisdom. We are indeed stronger together (or as Ford would say, ‘together we go further), and I do think this is utterly true. We all have our part to play. As for myself, I will continue to attend football matches, wear overalls and eat pie. I’ll even continue picking up the bill at dinner (you’re welcome, Rupert!) because all this world needs is for everyone to be a bit warmer, a bit kinder and a bit more loving.

I never said it was going to be easy!