"Could you see yourself as a Subaru Outback?" was my question for Josh tonight--that's as an Outback, not with one. He answered that he was more of a Prius.
See, I've been developing a theory this week that some women have similar taste in cars as we do in men. You know, some might go for macho, flashy, and potentially harmful (like a Hummer), some for non-assuming, predictable, and secure (like any number of sedans), and some for quirky, adventurous, and stylish (like an old Beetle). Etc.
So is Josh really a Prius--which just so happens to tie with Outback at the top of my list of ideal cars--and if so, what does that say about me? Let's see: I like socially conscious, smart, practical, yet idealistic men. Yes, that fits the bill.
Actually, the whole idea that people can or should identify with their cars is something I've always resisted. I have bought precisely two cars in my life--both used, both under $3,000--and in high school I drove a car that not only required entrance through the rolled-down driver's side window, as the door was permanently stuck closed, but also boasted a canary color on that door that contrasted brightly with the plain yellow of the rest of the car. Did I mention that it was as big as a small boat? (I thought of that car when last weekend I overheard a Gap dressing-room attendant trying to get a recently transplanted British mother to buy an $80 pair of jeans on credit for her son who was going to attend Timpview because it's "such an exclusive high school and all the kids will be wearing designer jeans." Disgusting on so many levels.)
But now that I think about it, perhaps I have seen my cars as an extension of me in the sense that they communicated how little I think cars should matter. I think they should get one from point A to point B as safely, cheaply, and environmentally unobtrusively as possible.
Which brings me to the car we currently drive. To be honest, I hate that we drive an SUV (though the one we drive fits my pattern of used beaters). There are places where SUVs are necessary. When we lived at Sundance, we probably couldn't have survived without one. But in downtown Provo? A waste of gas and the ozone layer.
And yet, I suppose that even Timothy communicates an essential truth about me: there is nothing I hate more than the idea of car payments.
5 comments:
Hmm. The cars-men connection.
I used to see myself in a cute little Mini Cooper, but I ended up buying a very sensible sedan. Not sure I like what this says about me :)
I always thought that bannana boat car was so cool! That was some real character.
Amen, to not wanting to make car payments. I also hate driving in the snow period, but SUV's certainly make it a lot less stressful.
This is precisely why I hate cars. They say too much about you. In a sports car I feel very pretentious. Hummers are the worst. But I won't get to that. You're Gap story made me pretty livid. That kind of thinking makes no sense.
I too feel the same way about cars. Society puts way to much emphasis on them. The dressing room story was very appalling, yet that attitude totally exists in those neck of the woods...
I'm with you on this one, Rachel. I don't like what driving a minivan says about me, but both of our cars were free, so that's what they really say about us: we can't stomach the idea of car payments either.
Hand-me-downs: we'll take 'em!
And ridiculous Gap story. Unbelievable.
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