If there were an official title for the Most Lesbian Car, it would hands down belong to the Jeep Wrangler. With its enormous tires as aesthetically appealing and chunky as a pair of Doc Martens and its pleasingly geometric yet practical shape, there is surely not a dykier vehicle to be found on four wheels (motorbikes are of course the most lesbian of all vehicles, as evidenced by the grand tradition of the Dykes on Bikes at every Pride Parade, as well as their symbiotic relationship with leather and practical shoes). Brian from the US version of ‘Queer as Folk’ bought a Jeep Wrangler after being told that it was ‘for fags’, which gives it even more queer points. And it’s called the Wrangler, for god’s sake. That could easily be the name of a strap-on harness.
For the sake of science, I took a delightful cherry red Wrangler out for a test drive to see how one of the gayest cars of all time handled on the road. It took me some time to overcome my trepidation towards being responsible for a machine that was most likely worth more than the entirety of my internal organs being sold on the black market. Once my breathing had slowed to a functional rate and I had ceased making my panic noises, I turned onto Leach highway and stepped on the gas. I’m spiritually and psychologically bonded to a zippy little Volkswagen Polo named Florence and I find that driving other cars feels like wearing someone else’s bra. Driving the Wrangler felt like graduating from a B-cup to a Double D, and while I was at first somewhat tentative towards being in control of such a hefty machine, I soon came to enjoy the power.
The Wrangler handles fairly smoothly, although the acceleration requires a bit of guts which could be an adjustment if you’re making the switch from a car that goes from zero to 70 with a gust of wind. I found it a bit clunky switching gears but that’s most likely a result of me being accustomed to driving what is more or less a golf cart in comparison. It also has a pretty tight turning circle for such a hefty vehicle, as I discovered when I lost my way in a Bunnings car park.
Because the Wrangler is so high off the ground, from the moment you step into it feels like you’re heading on an adventure. I like that you have to almost leap up into it if like myself, you’re not especially tall. Sitting at the traffic lights, looming above all the Hyundais and Daihatsus with their floral bumper stickers, I couldn’t help but feel as if I was on some sort of chariot perched loftily above my subjects ruminating on whether or not to destroy them with my wheels of wrath. It helps that the car is so dang pretty. With its boxy shape and adorably round headlights it is simultaneously butch and cute. Especially in red. But then I’ve always been fixated on red cars based on my still persistent childhood belief that they go faster, even though I drive mine like a cautious 84 year old.
Upon returning to the office I was immediately asked ‘Did you feel any dykier?’
Yes I did. And by god, I liked it.
Sophie Joske
