The Evolution of the “Chick Car” Or: What Came First, the Chick or the Car?

SINCE WOMEN FIRST MANEUVERED INTO THE DRIVER’S SEAT, THE qualities that define the “woman’s car” have remained remarkably constant. As the postwar era introduced prosperity, as well as the two-car garage, into many American families, the “woman’s car” came to represent not only women’s newfound mobility, but her culturally approved identity as well. Sturdy, spacious, and utilitarian, the “women’s car” was recognized as the perfect vehicle for carrying kids and cargo. Thus the ubiquitous station wagon of the 1950s and 1960s, the 1970 hatchback sedan, the popular minivan introduced in the late 1980s, and today’s downsized SUV and crossover may be considered certifiable “women’s cars.” Despite changes in form, style, and cargo space over the past 60 years, the function of the woman’s car has remained the same. And that is to firmly reinforce women’s gendered roles as wife and mother. In the past decade, however, certain groups of women have staked a claim over a very different category of car. Seeking to shed their domestic identity, whether temporarily or permanently, these women have embraced a car that is in no way utilitarian, but rather, small, quick, stylish, and “fun.” This vehicle has become branded in many automobile circles as the “chick car.” The term is often used pejoratively, to describe a vehicle that cannot be taken seriously by true automobile aficionados. As John McElroy, host of Autoline Detroit, remarks, “it’s the kind of car no manly-man would be caught dead driving” (Flint). Yet while certain populations, most often male, find it necessary to disparage the chick car, the women who drive it perceive it in a much different way. These women have embraced the technology of a