I heard a thing on the local NPR station recently (in Boise, Idaho) about the market for women’s concealed carry gun accessories. Makes sense. Most gun accessories up until now have been designed by men, so even if they’re marketed for women, they haven’t been quite right, and women are all, “Where do I put my gun?” At least according to these female gun enthusiasts. Who wants to exercise their second amendment rights looking like number two?
Concealed Carrie (named after fashion-forward Carrie Bradshaw of “Sex & the City”) was created with this in mind: “Why should women be forced to compromise fashion for function?” I agree. There is even a “Will my firearm fit?” section on each product’s page. If I had to choose, I would carry the Crocodile Print Leather Hobo with the little gun holder inside, and the bra with holster seems pretty practical, too. But, alas, I don’t have a gun. Should I not tell people that? I wonder about that kind of thing these days. After all, it would not be so weird to think I might have a piece considering I grew up in a town in New Jersey with a lot of mafia and now have a house in a state that allows people to carry concealed weapons.
I’ve seen my father-in-law’s guns, guns belonging to certain family members, have had numerous chats with libertarian acquaintances, and my brother once tried to get me to buy a little lady gun. But I think as far as I’ll go is to learn how to shoot. And carry my pepper spray (in pink, of course), which, luckily I keep remembering to take out of my purse before I go through airport security. Maybe I shouldn’t tell people I have that, either.
What should we keep quiet about how we’re armed to keep safe and how much should we share? I grew up in a pretty paranoid household, where my parents didn’t like to show other people their cards (or guns or baseball bats), where I was always told to never let people know I was home alone (I guess that’s pretty standard), and home alone I rarely was. A golf club still sits next to my dad’s front door — just in case.
I think well-made weaponry is beautiful and can be art. I’ve drooled over more than one small knife, inlaid with rubies and abalone shell and the like. Who doesn’t love a sword? Or a saber? But then I’m more of a “pen is mightier” gal. My husband does have a wonderful collection of kitchen knives that he keeps sharp enough to lob off a finger. I mean, his main purpose in keeping them that sharp isn’t to actually chop off anyone’s body parts (as far as I know), but it could happen. Probably not what smiles-a-plenty chef Michael Symon had in mind when he created those knives.
Looks like I wrote a whole piece about weapons without one snarky comment and meant it. That’s probably as close as I’m going to get to a bullseye for the foreseeable future.
Jenn Sutkowski just fell in love with Netflix’s “Samurai Gourmet” and wishes she, too, could channel her own “masterless samurai” to help navigate life’s weirdnesses. Find her slicing and dicing at jennsutkowski.com.
This Full Frontal column was first published in the Newport Mercury.
It's me, Jennifer Bernice (rhymes with "Furnace": it was my Granny's name) Sutkowski
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