Why can’t men stand a woman in an SUV?
PULLING out to overtake a swanky saloon car trundling along a dual carriageway, the male driver glances in my direction, then floors his accelerator, making it impossible for me to get past. Unless I fancy a race. Which I don’t. I sigh and move back into the slow lane as my son calls from the backseat: ‘Mummy, why do cars always try to go faster than us?’ Man speeds up to undertake woman driving luxury car is such a cliche. But several times a week in my hometown, I encounter drivers eager to demonstrate their resentment that I’m in a fourby-four on the school run. My current ‘is a Range Rover Sport, my sixth vehicle from the Land Rover stable. It’s a typical SUV, or Sports Utility Vehicle, and comes with rugged styling, a hefty price tag and a tendency to trigger misogyny.
Take, for example, the salesman of my first Range Rover Sport. ‘You do realise it’s one of the biggest cars on the road, madam, and you might have trouble parking it at ALDI,’ he snorted.
My riposte? ‘Darling, I never shop at ALDI.’
And, as it so happens, I’m an excellent parker.
Even in 2023, it seems some men simply can’t handle the sight of a woman driving a large, luxurious SUV, particularly if it dwarfs their own vehicle.
Admittedly, SUVs have long been derided — whether out of jealousy or anger at their gasguzzling credentials.
This week, Citroen boss Vincent Cobee referred to those who drive them as ‘terrorists’.
HE CLAIMED the rise of electric cars will ‘kill off’ huge SUVs, because they’re too heavy when you add a battery. He added: ‘If you live in a big city, five years ago if you drop off your kids with a big SUV you’re a man. Now, if you do this, you’re a “terrorist”.’
Well, Vince, I’m a woman, actually, and I am not a terrorist.
I’m painfully aware that research by The Ecologist website revealed Range Rovers to be among the most carbon-polluting SUVs. But I can’t bear to give mine up. All I can say is, I’m glad Land Rover is working to make future designs more eco-friendly.
But I don’t think a greener 4x4 would fix my problem with sexism. Though I cannot recall a woman ever deliberately slamming her foot on the accelerator or the brake in my path, countless men have cut me up, revved their engines by me at traffic lights, and squeezed me out of traffic.
Memorably, one stopped just short of slamming his van into my rear passenger door when two lanes merged into one. While waiting for the traffic to start moving, he gave me a barrage of abuse, despite the fact that I hadn’t veered from my lane.
Recently, I even had two men in a hatchback tailgate me down the three-mile lane that runs between the dual carriageway to school and our home. Spooked, I turned down a different road so that they wouldn’t know where I lived.
Safety is another reason I own a big car. When a man using his mobile phone while driving went into the back of my car, his Ford was a write-off. There was damage to my bumper, but it was barely noticeable. Crucially, my son and I walked away unharmed — and as my husband said, ‘This is why you have an SUV. It’s done its job.’
It’s a far cry from the dinky Ford Fiesta I learned to drive in 30 years ago. During my 20s and 30s, I drove various other small cars, before saving enough money to buy an Audi A5 coupe.
When our son was born we found my car didn’t have the boot space to fit all the baby paraphernalia so we bought my first Range Rover Sport. The one I’d never have been able to park in ALDI.
I might not have a huge brood to bundle into my car, but it suits my driving needs. And frankly, there is something lovely about driving one. I may explore more eco-friendly options in future, but I’ll never give up my SUV.