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January 12, 2017

Don’t you love the classics? I sure do! My favorite, as some of you know, is the 1959 Chevy Impala with its sleek, elongated chrome edged bat wings hovering elegantly over the rear bumper,0 forever ready to soar. VAROOOM!

Sigh… Now, that’s what I’m talking about! Nothing like a hand-polished land yacht to make a gal feel as warm and fuzzy as the furry dice hanging from her rearview.

Other classics sporting finely-honed fins rev my motor too. There is just something about a car built for character which says, “Look at me,” that appeals to my adventurous side. For instance, step-side trucks trip my trigger while suicide door sedans leave me longing for snuggles on Lovers Lane. Hey, I’m just a girl with a crush on stimulating automobiles.

Thus, imagine my surprise while doing research for my novel when I ran across a website touting luxury cars for women. Expecting a Jag? So was I. Sorry to disappoint. Half were SUVs. Seriously? My first question was, “What about the mini van full of soccer balls, baseball bats, mud soaked floor mats and crushed soda cans?” Talk about stereotyping women into ‘soccer’ ‘errand’ and ‘taxi mom’ roles.

Marketing luxury cars has certainly taken a wrong turn erroneously assuming simply because testosterone isn’t coursing through our veins that we don’t appreciate fine lines, sporty styling and turbocharged. Do they seriously believe that middle-aged men suffering a mid-life crises are the only ones who want to look stellar in polished steel? Then tell me how many single men would spend three hours in the salon getting a mani-pedi, highlights and waxed only to jump in a mini-van for the drive home? My guess, none. Yet, women will cram their foot in a designer shoe two sizes too small to look glamorous. Conceivably, why wouldn’t she also desire to slide her silky designer appareled posterior onto the finest leather interior. She would! Dickens, I would! I test drove a Jag once because I wanted to ‘feel’ the experience of sporty luxury. It was incredibly jaggy.

I’m simply pointing out there are women who appreciate a flashy car with clean lines, 375 horsepower, 6,000rpm’s, dual-clutch transmission, and a top speed of 155mph. Just like this crazy weather going from 0-60 in 4.5 days the Jaguar XFR-S goes from 0-60mph in 4.2 seconds. Never know when a lady will need a new pair of nylons fast. Right ladies?

HA! Now’s who’s stereotyping? Oh wait…it was me. (my bad)

At any rate, owning flashy luxury cars isn’t a male only sport. Therefore, luxury vehicles marketed to women shouldn’t be lumped into the boxy, unflattering SUV pile. If this clearly chauvinistic trend continues I can only imagine a future of pigeon-holed vehicles sporting cellulite decals instead of pin-striping. Are you kidding me? Now that’s going too far! How far off the beaten track are these automakers willing stretch their necks out?

Where are the sexy, shirtless, ripped, muscular, tanned male models sitting on top of a sport car marketed to females? How come men aren’t prancing around a Ferrari 488 Spider enticing women to buy? Shoot fire, I’d buy one! Right after I win the lottery…or become rich and famous…or get adopted by Bill Gates. The point is…you bet your 707 horsepower V8 I’d buy one!

Yes, yes, yes, the best marketing concept since the dawn of time (we are all more than aware of) is: ‘sex appeal’…or more to the point, sex appeals. Therefore, I challenge automakers to bring on rippling muscles! Women love sports cars too and are a viable target market. Along this vein, I researched and could not find a single male model appearing in a sport luxury car advertisement geared toward a female audience. All I found was the above picture. Strikingly handsome male model getting out of car. Notice, ladies, we are clueless as to which make auto is presented, model is fully clothed in tux with piercing blue eyes and we have no idea if he’s ripped. There is no wedding ring and I can almost smell his cologne.

I’m sold, I’ll take him!


What about the car?

What car?

Can you imagine…sitting in the driver’s seat?

Smile, you’re stellar!



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