This morning started quite ordinarily, except that I woke up with the thought that today I had the role of... a woman. I thought for a long time about where to start: first put on tights and then spin around in front of the mirror for a long time, or vice versa — first do my makeup, and only then try to squeeze my not-so-small figure into those very tights. No, I wasn't going to change gender, I didn't plan to perform in a transvestite show, and I didn't even think about changing my orientation, contrary to current fashion. Everything turned out to be much more prosaic: I, like my two other male colleagues, had to test the so-called "women's" cars. And all because February 14 and March 8 were approaching, and, following fashion trends, wealthy men were about to run to car dealerships to buy gifts on four wheels for their loved ones. Someone wants to win love, and someone — on the contrary, thus get rid of it... And it was this very role that my colleagues and I had to get into for a couple of days. I decided to do without tights and cosmetics, limiting myself to a red wig from the "Km/h" salon and the mandatory accessories of any woman behind the wheel — a mobile phone and lipstick borrowed from my wife. Good thing I don't have a third hand for a cigarette; I don't smoke and wasn't going to poison myself with smoke. Outwardly, I am, of course, a typical elegant lady — almost two meters tall, weighing over a hundred kilograms, broad-shouldered, with a thick beard... I had to use all my imagination and imagine myself as a slender beauty of small stature and light weight. It's a pity only that she's red-haired, matching the wig. My first car is a BMW X5. Wow, how huge it is... You have to climb into the cabin by steps... So, I'm inside. And what next? Raise the seat higher, put a cushion under me — the pedals are far away, my legs don't reach... Lower it — I can't see anything ahead... And I also need to turn the steering wheel, I need to move closer to it, but something is in the way... Ah, it's my chest! Good thing it's small, otherwise steering would be really uncomfortable in this position... Well, let's powder our nose, touch up our lips — and off we go. I insert the key, press the button... God! Why is it roaring like that?! Ah, I see, it's not at me, but at everyone around, to scare them! Great! And what's this cute handle? A gear selector? First time I've seen one... It's both beautiful and convenient to use! Just wonderful! Glamorous! Let's go... I wonder, is 4.8 liters and 350 horsepower a lot? Oops! Ouch! Why does it jump like that? I barely touched the pedal, and it immediately lunged forward. And on a rough road, it bounces me around like a bobblehead. What a crazy stool! But at least there's navigation, and I won't have to hold a map on the steering wheel anymore, distracted from this... well, what's it called... Oh yes, here's my girlish memory: I need to call my girlfriend, and with the other hand touch up my lips again — thank goodness the car is good, it drives itself... So, where did my handbag fall? Damn, this X5 is so huge, you can't see from one end to the other — you could lose yourself in here, let alone a bag. Hello! And why do I need such a big trunk and a whole rear seat for my small bag? What am I supposed to carry there? Oh, finally found the lipstick and phone... Why are you all honking around me? Jerks! Idiots!! You're just jealous of me! And you, what are you staring at and yelling? What? You're the fool yourself!!! Can't you see what car I'm driving? Well, shut up! Or I'll poke you in the eye with my stiletto, and then call my husband, he'll come and... So what if he's also short, but he has a Hummer, he'll run over all of you! Phew, we've arrived. Where do I park this big thing? There's no room for even one car here, and I take up at least two spots when parking... Oh, I'll drive onto the lawn, and let the grass not grow there — my wheels are big, high curbs are nothing for me in the X5! Now I need to get out, but I'm afraid of heights... Help, someone get me down from here! No, let machos and those who consider themselves such drive these monsters, and I'd rather swap with my "girlfriend" for her brand new Mercedes C280 with a fashionable AMG body kit (that's such a designer, sews sporty outfits for cars, if anyone doesn't know). God, what a beautiful car, I'm just dying, the color alone is worth it! And it has one less door than the X5, less confusion about which one to get in through. No, here you don't climb in, you sit down! The seat is low, comfortable, even cozy. You can raise it higher to see at least something ahead. It doesn't roar. It doesn't jump. It doesn't bounce. It rides smoothly-smoothly. And fast-fast. And handles easily. And inside it's so beautiful! And very comfortable. Mood — super! Let me go out and admire my white beauty! Oh, God, what's wrong with it? It just drove from one boutique to another, and it's already all disgustingly brown-gray, matching Moscow dirt. Yes, this isn't Rio de Janeiro, as some guy once said, where everyone wears white pants and drives the same cars... So, what are you honking about again? Jerks! Idiots!! So what if I stopped in the middle of an intersection? You're all just jealous of me again! You're the fool yourself!!! Can't you see, a girl has a problem — her car got dirty. And when it's not white, it's not so stunningly beautiful... But driving it is still great! But how long will I drive it? One of my girlfriends' husbands gave her a similar sedan for March 8, and what came of it? Before, she used to zip around in her little "beep-beep" to boutiques, solariums, clubs, and friends, and didn't know any trouble. And when she got the Mercedes as a gift, she often had to lend it to her husband — either his car was wrecked, or it wouldn't start, or it was due for service, or something else... He wasn't ashamed to drive it either. And in the end, when his "ride" finally broke down, he switched to the Mercedes, and she asked him to buy her some "clunker" again so he wouldn't covet it anymore... So it's better for me, before it's too late, to switch to something simpler myself... But not too simple — to a Peugeot 207 CC. This, you know, is both a coupe and a convertible in one, like shampoo with conditioner — and it's such a cute little car, just adorable! Oh, and inside everything is so glamorous and squee-worthy! True, the wheels are small, and it's low itself — you can't climb onto a curb or lawn like in the X5, but it needs very little space for parking, and in traffic jams you can squeeze through anywhere. Although in the BMW and Mercedes I didn't need to squeeze through; they let me pass anyway, but now nobody, absolutely nobody considers me, doesn't treat me like a person! Of course, it's easy to offend the little one! Well, where, where are you pushing, and honking too? Jerk! Idiot!! Ah, that's my girlfriend in the X5... Goat! Idiot!! You're the fool yourself!!! Driving such a giant is like carrying a cast-iron iron in your purse instead of a powder compact. And it's okay that compared to the previous cars, this engine is quite weak — I'm not a racer, not Milka Duno or that Michael, what's his name, Schumacher, I'm in no hurry. And my "baby" needs much less gas — I'll spend more on cosmetics. But at least the gearbox is proper — automatic. Otherwise, one of my acquaintances' husband (definitely an idiot!) gave her a similar convertible — much more powerful, but with that stupid lever in the center that you have to yank back and forth constantly. And when do you paint your lips? Chat on the phone? And also constantly press the third pedal until your leg goes numb, although in normal cars there are only two pedals — like here. The doors here are also only two — one for me, the other for a girlfriend. And behind the front seats there's a rear one — specially for bags from boutiques. Because the roof folds into the trunk when the car turns into a convertible, and you can't stuff many bags in there. But you take the roof off — and here I am, admire my unearthly beauty that will make your head spin! And let girlfriends sit in their iron "dungeons" with tinted windows, uninteresting to anyone... In my opinion, you couldn't imagine a better "little lion" for a girl! DMITRY KROTOV How heavy the "journalist's lot" can be! Heavier than the notorious "woman's." And if you add these lots together... But if you must, you must. However, thinking over the idea of testing "women's" cars, I, unlike my colleagues, decided to embellish the situation a bit. And, for extra ambiance, wrapping my neck in a bright red boa and putting on an equally "loud" wig, I tried to imagine which woman each car would suit. I thought it would be reasonable to divide the "weaker sex" into socio-age groups. Especially since the cars themselves contributed to this. And here's what came of it. Let's start small — with the cute little lion Peugeot 207 CC. Behind its wheel, I am a coed. A carefree pretty coed. The "little lion" is surely a gift for her 18th birthday from the most important man in her life at that moment — her dad (although, of course, more dubious options are possible). Youthful carelessness and recklessness manifest in the main advantage of this car — the ability to drive without a roof. And let the metropolis air not be pristine, let the wind tousle her hair dyed green to spite the adults, but at least the whole neighborhood can hear the music, and everyone notices the beauty dancing to the beat. And that the little engine with the "automatic" isn't great — who cares, as a first "learning" car, the Peugeot is quite suitable. Once you get the hang of it, you can even throw it into corners at high speed — the suspension won't let you down. The interior isn't rich? Well, the 207 "cabrio" isn't that expensive either. Of course, if the roof is up, and no one can appreciate the owner's cheerfulness, the carriage turns back into a pumpkin, or rather, into an ordinary (well, still almost ordinary) small Peugeot. And the attitude toward it on the road is the same as toward any other small car — everyone tries to bully and cut you off. But no victory without struggle, and young people's nerves are a priori stronger than "old folks'." So, at such a playful age, this car is just right. I switch to the BMW X5 and realize that I now supposedly belong to a completely different age and social category. The X5 is a gift from an oligarch husband. Exactly a husband. A man is unlikely to give this "house on wheels" worth nearly "two hundred grand" to his next "unverified" girlfriend. Here I am a respectable married lady, most likely with children. Or maybe without. But then why this huge barn, where you can't reach the vanity mirror without standing on the seat? Perhaps the woman is just tired of constant "bullying" while driving a small car? Maybe the kids have worn out all her nerves, and there's none left for fighting in traffic jams? Or maybe the husband wanted to maximize safety for his family? But, it must be admitted, most often the "X-five" in a woman's hands is a tool of self-affirmation. After all, she is the oligarch's wife! And then it becomes clear why all these sacrifices — the agony of parking, the impressive fuel consumption, the difficult entry and exit with jumps on the slippery running board, and the absolute lack of sense of dimensions. All this so that no one dares to honk rudely at an intersection or shout something about a "monkey with a grenade" out the window. To be higher (literally and figuratively) than many men. My X5 is my fortress, well-armed with a powerful engine! Between "respectable married ladies" and "coeds," another category fits neatly. Let's call it — "independent." These women may be by no means deprived of beauty and the ability to turn a man's head. But it so happens that they have a couple more qualities that, as practice shows, aren't so necessary for the majority — intelligence and enterprise. Sort of yuppie women. Therefore, they didn't follow the known path — "marry an oligarch" — and don't drive X5s. And they don't have children yet. No time for that. After all, they (oh, horror!) work. And they work seriously, a lot. They can even buy a car themselves. So why shouldn't they buy a Mercedes C class? And even such a one — tender white with a gorgeous AMG body kit. As a rule, these women also simply love to drive. They will appreciate its excellent dynamics and handling. And during a trip with girlfriends to shops, purchases can easily be thrown into the spacious trunk. Perhaps the key word here is expediency. The Mercedes sedan is good in every way. It's beautiful, noble, has excellent driving qualities, and isn't cramped. And all this for a very moderate price for a premium brand car. Of course, you won't tow a trailer with it, and you won't carry a refrigerator in it like in the X5. And you can't take the roof off like in the Peugeot. But is there really such a need often? "Independent" girls have enough that it's a Mercedes and that it's fast yet practical. But we all know the world is far from ideal. Especially the world we live in. Meeting a fragile girl in a Hummer or a serious man in an SLK on the streets of the Russian capital is as easy as pie. "Everything is mixed up in the Oblonsky house." But, you'll agree, a woman with children looks rather strange behind the wheel of a Peugeot 207 CC. And a twenty-year-old coed in a BMW X5 is a complete faux pas. Therefore... I choose the Mercedes C280 as the ultra-versatile car. It, with some stretch and "social" caveats, would suit any of my fictional heroines. However, it suits any man perfectly too. And that's its charm... MAXIM BORDUNOV There's a common opinion that a woman is also a human. A debatable statement, of course, but there's definitely a grain of truth in it. And if so, then nothing human is alien to a woman, including driving a car. That's roughly how I feel about ladies behind the wheel: without condemnation, let alone contempt, but with a slight sense of absurdity. Somewhere in my subconscious, as a male chauvinist, the thought periodically surfaces that a woman behind the wheel looks as strange as a woman with a rifle or a hockey stick. So don't judge me... Having dressed in a headscarf like a 60s movie star (colleagues say — like an angry old lady), I thought about which car to start getting into character with. Following female logic, I chose the most beautiful car. That's, of course, the dazzling white Mercedes C280. When we decided that the toy coupe-cabriolet Peugeot and the sporty monster BMW needed an elegant "Merc," our friends from the Mercedes-Benz LUKOIL dealership on Novorizhskoe Highway themselves suggested this very car as the "women's option." The new C-Class perfectly combines luxury chic with relative affordability, which is important regardless of who pays — the girl herself or her man. The white color with a creamy tint makes the car a real "fashion item." If the "C-class" were my girlfriend, I'd be jealous and stop being friends with her: she's too impeccable, nothing to find fault with, you feel some unattainable ideal. All the "jewelry" — the body and interior trim — is chosen with impeccable taste and attention to detail. The only thing that annoys me is the absence of the star above the radiator grille. On the C280 in Avantgarde trim, the big emblem is attached to the grille itself, and I so love looking at the road through the star on the hood, which men call the "sight." Getting into character à la Stanislavsky, in the C280 I tried pressing the pedals in stiletto heels. It turned out not as uncomfortable as they say, but the heel slides on the floor and will surely get scuffed over time. Now I understand that ladies who change into special driving "slippers" from Tod's aren't showing off but acting pragmatically. And how sweetly — there's no other word — the "C-class" drives! Of all the intricate slogans, I only remember the "Mercedes" one: "from home to home, without leaving home." The C280 fits this perfectly. The full feng shui in the cabin lets you forget about the dirt outside, moving from guests to home. And at the same time, the "C-class" accelerates and handles excellently, so hooligan antics on the road to wipe the nose of "daddies" in SUVs work great. And your own "daddy" can quite afford such a purchase for his beloved girl. But the beauty is that you can buy this car "with your own money," even without owning an oil company — it's enough to be, for example, a successful middle manager... And it won't be a fashionable trinket or stupid showing off, but a quite self-sufficient car. But sometimes a girl wants the car to be exactly a fashionable trinket. After all, if you need to go somewhere for business, men will drive you. For this role, in my opinion, the Peugeot 207 CC is best suited. Although compared to the old "toy" 206 CC, this coupe-cabriolet is a model of solidity. But there are practically no rear seats, the trunk is tiny, and the overall style is still semi-toy-like. But you can take the roof off and literally air out your head after a fight with your boyfriend, tearing down the night avenue. And among girlfriends, you're guaranteed a reputation as a femme fatale: men know that the 207 CC is just a regular 207 with an unusual body, but in female society, the owner of this "little lion" will be spoken of breathlessly as "the girl in the convertible." But the charm of the 207 CC quickly wears off, and the car starts to annoy with little things. Driving without a roof in our region isn't an everyday pastime, but "playing" with the sluggish little engine and the dim-witted "automatic" is a regular and dubious pleasure. The compactness of the "little lion" helps in city traffic and parking, but in the Mercedes C280 you also don't feel like an elephant in a china shop. In short, a relationship with the Peugeot 207 CC is like a resort romance: a storm of emotions, but they don't last long. It's somehow frivolous. Now the BMW X5 is a different matter. Now that's seriousness! Bores say that big cars are driven by women (and men) with an inferiority complex. What nonsense! Maybe these smart alecks also dislike large female breasts? I like the "X-five," especially in its new guise. So convincing and imperturbable. You can and want to rely on it, trust its 355-horsepower might. A lonely girl in this SUV can quite feel "behind a stone wall." Of course, 3 million rubles is a considerable price for the sense of superiority the X5 4.8i gives, but this car is worth its money even from an uninitiated female perspective. The same bores like to grumble that a girl doesn't need such a huge car. Theoretically, maybe not, but reality makes adjustments. After all, all these misogynist bores in rusty "Zhigulis" or credit "Focuses" think that no one else exists on the road except them, and if they see a girl behind the wheel, they go into a rage. In short, typical black envy. So it's necessary that such "road users" first see the car, and only then its driver. The X5 quickly but delicately puts road hams in their place: they don't shy away from a big black SUV with shining xenon — they carefully avoid it. Not very humane, of course, but, alas, a woman can't survive otherwise in today's city traffic. You could say the X5 replaces male audacity for the weaker sex, and thus saves nerves, helps avoid wrinkles, hair loss, and so on down the list. And the BMW SUV's size only scares at first: thanks to the high seating position, excellent visibility and a sense of dimensions allow you to drive the "X-five," as I personally verified, even through the eye of a needle (only the needle must be big enough). Besides, other drivers, if anything, will timidly yield again. In short, it turns out, paradoxically, that women are best off driving a BMW X5. True, there's a whole list of "ifs"... If you have the money for it. If the size and image of the car don't contradict the lady's refined inner world. If you don't care about reproaches of an inferiority complex... Afterword Until recently, we didn't have such a concept as a "women's car" at all. The domestic auto industry produced either brutal "Volgas" and "Moskvichs" for men, or "unisex" like the "Zhiguli." Everything changed when foreign cars flooded the market — that's when this definition appeared. But the classic understanding didn't last long and today has undergone a curious transformation: now a "women's" car in Russia can be a small car, a compact crossover, a huge SUV, or even a powerful premium sedan, which were previously considered strictly masculine. That's why we decided on this half-joking but essentially serious comparative test of completely incomparable cars. We tried to abstract from professional experience and look at the situation through the eyes of the women themselves, who are increasingly — albeit not always smoothly — joining the ranks of motorists. Of course, we tried to be objective, but probably the influence of that very "male chauvinism" didn't go unnoticed. Although that's not the point. All three cars are good in their own way, and we just wanted to find out which one best matches the modern Russian idea of a "women's" car. As you can see, opinions were divided — perhaps precisely depending on the degree of that very chauvinism. But it's worth remembering that this is still a male perspective, even if for a couple of hours they "appointed" themselves women. And there's nothing to be done: statistics stubbornly say that most cars driven by ladies are either gifts from men or bought with their money. Although women themselves rightly believe they have the right to drive what they like. The main thing is not to forget that a car, unlike a washing machine, requires much more responsibility: with careless handling, you can not just flood your neighbors, but create a real danger on the road. Men, in turn, should remember that a woman remains a woman even behind the wheel, and deserves at least a drop of indulgence. Although through the tinted windows of some SUV the size of a house, you can't tell who's behind the wheel. Note: during the test, not a single car or woman was harmed.