More Stuff on Being a Girl in Automotive School

 

There were some things I didn’t cover in my last piece about my school experience so far. (For those who are curious about the academic front, I’m writing this on the day I took my first final and tomorrow I start a new class, and I don’t actually have a clue what subject it will be because the way things are done is that the class lists are pinned up on the bulletin board the DAY OF the new class, and that’s when you find out what subject it is and what classroom it’s in. Bizarro. In other news, I am a spoiled college kid.)

 

[UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: My new class is Electronic Fundamentals or something to that effect, and we have shop in the morning with one instructor and classroom/theory in the afternoon with a different instructor, which makes zero sense from a student perspective, because the practical stuff we’re learning may or may not line up with what we’ll be tested on, since there’s no way to communicate exactly what each instructor is covering to the other and they don’t really coordinate. Oh well. I’m a smart cookie; I’ll figure it out.]

 

I don’t intend for this piece to be a huge essay, just some quick notes on what wasn’t covered last time, broken down into sections for your convenience!

 

 

Bathroom

 

There is one girls’ bathroom and one men’s bathroom for students. The girls’ bathroom has one toilet, one sink, one motion-sensing paper towel dispenser, and deliciously mango-scented air freshener. It is always locked, so girls have to go get a key from Student Services every day in order to open it. You can keep the key all day and return it after dismissal, but I forgot to do that on my first day, and now I just “forget” to do it, so I basically have my own key that I take to school every day so that I don’t have to constantly ask them for one. (Don’t worry; they have enough keys for the few girls in the program.) And the hassle of having to remember if I transferred the key from one uniform shirt to the other every day is so worth the peace of mind that comes with knowing that that bathroom is a heavenly slice of privacy.

 

It’s no secret that I love my solitude. The few minutes I spend in that bathroom each day are kind of my favorites. It can suck having to come out of it and promptly coming face to face with a dude who’s like, “Hey, beautiful,” which totally kills that wonderful bubble of comfort and privacy, but it’s also a place where I’ve run into some of the other girls in the program who needed to use the bathroom, and that’s great, because sisterhood, yo.

 

 

Clothes

 

We get button-down uniform shirts. Two of them for $46. With iron-on patches that can display our academic achievements.

 

The sizes on the paper that I could choose from at orientation were: Small, Medium, Large, XL, 2X, 3X, 4X, 5X, and 6X. So, unsurprisingly, the admissions guy’s immediate reaction to me was, “I can see if they can order you an extra small?” Which I shot down and tried on the small. It’s ginormous and fits my body in exactly no places, but I knew that extra small wouldn’t be any better because in point of fact, no one has yet invented a button-down shirt that fits a body that is as hourglassish as mine. Take your pick: Boobs or waist — you get to pick a shirt that fits one, not both. This one fit neither, being too baggy at the waist and too small at the chest. None of this is a complaint, by the way; by not fitting in any way, shape, or form, my shirt basically serves as a reminder to me about how tiny and curvy I am, which I cannot find a way to spin into being a bad thing. And anyhow, I ain’t going to automotive school to be a fashionista so whatEVER.

Everyone wears shirts or tank tops under their uniform shirts (except one guy who our instructor has dubbed “The Phantom” because of his habit of just disappearing during the school day for hours at a time but that’s another story) so it’s not a big deal that my shirt doesn’t close over my chest and I wear t-shirts underneath every day. It puts my t-shirt collection to good use, that’s for sure.

 

We don’t get uniform pants. This is only a thing of importance to me because I don’t own a single pair of jeans. I have like one pair of sweatpants and a few pairs of leggings, and mostly any other pants I have are pajama pants. Hashtag Orthodox Jewish Girl Problems. I asked at registration and was told that for safety reasons, as I assumed, skirts are not recommended. So I put a post up on facebook asking if any friends of mine had old jeans that they thought might fit me, and some friends responded, but I still don’t have jeans because it turns out that even though I am a 6-8 in skirts/dresses, I am apparently probably something like a 10-12 in pants. Like I said, hourglassish. So if you’ve got size 10-12 ladies jeans lying around, email them to me! Much appreciated.

 

Obama will give you a thumbs up. Cross my heart.

 

But this hasn’t really been a problem so far. The first few days, I came to school wearing sweatpants or leggings underneath one of those ankle-length black skirts that I almost never wear in real life, and after the classroom portion of the day (i.e. all morning) I pulled off the skirt and went to the shop in pants/leggings. But then one day I forgot to change and no one noticed and the instructor didn’t care, so I stopped wearing the extra layer underneath (because it is NYC in the summer, gah) and just wear the same ankle-length black skirt every day for class and shop and no one gives a hoot. If we ever do something that’s physical enough to require pants, of course I’ll wear them, but for now I’ll stick with skirts because they are way better in summer heat and most of my non-skirt bottoms are not fit to be seen in public. And they totally don’t match my uniform shirt. (One of my pairs of leggings is like purple and shimmery. Went with the oversized navy button-down shirt super well. Not.)

 

Also the shirt has pockets. They’re breast pockets but it’s not like the shirt fits me so stuff in the pockets doesn’t actually look weird; it’s just part of the overall sloppy-mechanic-mess-look. Which means I carry stuff in my pockets all the time. This is awesome.

 

POCKETS! *drool*

 

Despite all this lack of anything resembling fashion, I get looks and I get hit on with regularity, simply because I am female. This really hammers home the fact that there really isn’t that much you need to do, looks-wise, to get a guy’s attention. They’ll probably notice you exist just because you’re a girl. If you want to hold that attention (which I don’t in this case), that’s where personality comes in. (I know I am saying this from a position of body/overall attractiveness privilege, because I fit into certain conventions of beauty, and that’s unfair. But I do think that being female has a lot more to do with it in this situation than being attractive. I’m not that attractive, especially not in school; I’m just an object of curiosity.)

 

More about this in . . .

 

Makeup

 

I have this policy of wearing makeup for the first few days of any new class/semester, in college and now in automotive school. The theory is that if that’s how I make my first impression, whatever glamour that first impression creates will cling to me for the duration that those people know me. This is a theory that I completely made up and is entirely unscientific because I have not attempted to research it in the slightest, but I don’t need to, because confidence is a head game that you play with yourself, so whatever works will work if you let it.

 

The biggest issue with this is that during each semester/course, you get to what I have internally dubbed the “band-aid day” — meaning, the day I rip off the metaphorical band-aid and show up with no makeup on. And Buzzfeed can tell me all they want that no one notices if you don’t wear makeup, but that is baloney. The first day I showed up without makeup, B. (of my previous post) did a double take and said, “Did you forget—” and stopped.

 

“Did I forget what?”

 

“Nothing. Never mind. You look great.”

 

Because nothing is so utterly transparent than giving a girl an unsolicited reassurance about how she looks after you just looked at her like she showed up wearing mud in her hair. Good one, B. And he proceeded on a few subsequent days to say things like, “You don’t get much sleep, do you?”

 

To which I was always tempted to respond, “None of your business but I get plenty of sleep; I’m just a pasty white girl with no consistent skin tone and I don’t feel like wearing makeup every day just so that I don’t look like a zombie.”

 

SM without makeup, an approximation.

 

But note that this did not deter him from continuing to hit on me, ask me to the movies, offer to take me places “if you’re good” (ugh). He has definitively used up all my goodwill at this point. Persistence is not sexy at all when it ignores and disrespects other people’s clearly-drawn boundaries. B. is fortunately not in my class right now; he’s in the diesel program and I’m in the automotive program, so we had that one intro class together but now we have separate classes. He still comes to find me during breaks and is like, “Can I get a hug??” and I’m like, “No.” And he laughs and says, “Handshake?” and so I shake his hand instead of telling him to get lost, because I’m super polite like that.

 

And similarly to how it works with the clothes, plenty of the other guys continue to hit on me and attempt to chat me up whether or not I am wearing makeup.

 

So to end this on a positive note, I can tell you that when it’s not incredibly annoying or creepy, the inane male attention has actually been a decent confidence boost/reinforcement for me. Like, if I can look like crap and get hit on constantly, then when I finally do get all gussied up and wear makeup and put on clothes I like that actually fit my body, I feel, like, super sexy. Like turbo-charged sexy, to use a car metaphor.

 

Va-VOOM.
Va-VOOM.

 


____

 

Like my thinky thoughts? Want more of them? Consider donating and commissioning more, via my GoFundMe campaign — http://www.gofundme.com/sm-automotive — and thanks for reading! And you can keep up with me on Twitter @FloatingSpirals and never miss a post 🙂

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