Home > Features > An ode to American women

An ode to American women

Toast

Right, before I start raving let me just say that this is entirely based on personal experience, rather than an actual hard science. It’s going to contain generalisations that I’m sure someone will find really offensive. If you are that person, I am sorry.

The American women I have met tended to be in Europe, or on the East or West coasts so the probably voted Democrat. Although I did have a very serious relationship with a girl from Texas, who I think would shoot me if I even hinted she knew any liberals let alone was one.

Everything that is great about American women

American culture is an awfully powerful export. I grew up in a very English way, while I may not live in a castle, there are castles in the family and a couple of knighthoods floating about (Sadly I’m terribly unlikely to inherit any of them so I’ll have to get my own) I know about tea and which way one should pass the port after supper. I have very strong views on cucumber sandwiches.

This is normal to me, so America seems like a fantasy land. The idea of watching a local football game while eating corn dogs and drinking root beer is as remote and magical as jousting on unicorns. Like most of the planet I’ve grown up watching American shows and reading American books, as well as the local ones.

I think everyone in the States grows up in suburbia like The Wonder Years (with a slightly melancholy voice over when something dramatic happens), goes to the school in Saved by the Bell and college in Animal House. To meet someone who has actually eaten moon pie or lives in New York is like meeting an elf who had dragon for lunch.

It’s hard to get across the almost mythical status of ridiculously large cars, shopping malls the size of towns, Popeye’s chicken, End of year proms ,Eggo waffles, Vintage style diners, Smores or pretty much all of Vegas.

I’ve travelled a bit in American, not enough mind you, and it’s endlessly amusing how excited we outsiders get over the insignificant things in America. To you it’s just a dirty truck stop, but to us it’s a ‘TRUCK STOP! LIKE IN FILMS’

The second part is the sass. An American woman is far more likely to walk up to you, tell you that your socks are awful and then demand you take them out for dinner.

Dating them is like being on a sexy ghost train. You’ve got a couple of vague preconceptions about what might happen but the whole experience is shocking and thrilling. Also it’s quite expensive and you get felt up in the dark.

I think it must a side effect of the American education system. In England we don’t stand-up and give presentations in front of the class. I suspect that forcing people to do this makes them a bit more sassy and unafraid to speak out. Or perhaps it’s from coming from an extremely powerful nation that gives them a bit more of a spring in their step. Buy them a cocktail or they will nuke you.

I don’t know the causes behind it but American women are moxy, in a lovely way. Not exactly dominating, I’ve known enough Dominatrixes (Dominatrixi?) and horsey women to know that’s unpleasant to be around. I think it’s an air of projected confidence combined with a slightly higher quality of underwear. There is never an excuse for bad underpants.

America is a land of hope (I think that’s mentioned in the official song) and there is an optimism that is part of that culture. It is mixture of positive outlook and almost deadly focus. Like MacGyver.

I like the fact that American women know where they are going and what they want, or at least give the impression of knowing. I’m sure they are as neurotic as the rest of the world, but perhaps it’s tempered a bit but all the stars and stripes.

I was chatting to girl in Vegas last year, and we were talking about what she looked for in a man. She said

‘I want a man who can take a punch, he doesn’t have to win a fight, but he has to be able to take one for the team. American men are such bitches these days. They stopped making real men about 20 years ago.’

It’s bizarre, but pleasantly direct. Which is quite a good description of what is great about American women.

Also they seem to like British chaps. Good manners, decent tailoring and an ability to get passionately, and creatively drunk at any time of day give us an edge over American men. And for that I will always love American women.

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  1. Woo
    July 31, 2010 at 8:03 am

    Interesting…my biggest hit rate is with Italians and Irish men. English = not so much. Perhaps some of us are designed for foreigns.

  2. July 31, 2010 at 8:16 am

    Woo – Sounds like a good excuse for some travel to me.

  3. July 31, 2010 at 4:44 pm

    Ha, a very flattering description of our women. As a girl who strives to be moxious — and one who was raised in Vegas, no less — I appreciate the ode.

    Also, your list of bizarre American things (“ridiculously large cars, shopping malls the size of towns, Popeye’s chicken, End of year proms ,Eggo waffles, Vintage style diners, Smores or pretty much all of Vegas.”) gave me an inexplicable swelling of national pride. And a total craving to make s’mores with Eggos instead of graham crackers…

  4. Meg
    July 31, 2010 at 4:50 pm

    You make valid points. And while I definitely agree that we (generally speaking) have a soft spot for men of a somewhat ‘refined’ nature, who can drink tea with their pinkies up or slam beer without falling down, I think the need for masculinity stretches further than that. It seems American men have gotten used to us ‘feisty’ women and developed high-maintenance ways in an attempt to punish those who have their proverbial shit together. Alas, it’s the foreign man who loves an American woman without looking for her to change, knowing it would prove virtually impossible (unless of course someone worthy induced voluntary change). That, added with the manliness required to give or take a punch when necessary, is what American men are truly missing.

    In short (if that’s still possible), I appreciate your hand-carved pedestal and invite you to tell all your friends.

  5. July 31, 2010 at 5:48 pm

    TKoG – Glad you approve. I once phoned up Kellogs and told them off for not selling Eggo waffles here. It didn’t work.

    Meg – So punch-willing drunks in nice suits? Perfect.

  6. July 31, 2010 at 5:49 pm

    And I still don’t really understand what a s’mores are and what Mr Graham Crackers has got to do with it, is he a chef?

  7. August 2, 2010 at 4:28 pm

    This was charming and adorable. I don’t think that the majority of us see ourselves in the special light that you do.

    On the flip side of the coin, a man who knows how to pass the port and has a knighthood floating around here and there in his family tree is unmistakably alluring. Plus: The non-Yankee accent.

    The grass is always greener, I think. :) Sharing this with friends.

  8. August 4, 2010 at 5:38 am

    Texting Mr Darcy – Glad you like it.

  9. Air
    October 9, 2010 at 3:54 am

    > Dating them is like being on a sexy ghost train

    *cackle*

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