by Alice Knight

Created on: July 04, 2010   Last Updated: July 05, 2010

Does society favor men? As a woman, I wish I could state I live in some idyllic land where everyone hugs trees and the concept of equality is taken for granted (or maybe not, it would be boring now that I come to think of it). However, social reality makes sure women get to know their place as the weaker sex as soon as possible.

I can hear all the comparisons between cultures, how fortunate women in America are...my life experience clearly indicates (as I'm sure most American women would agree even if they do not state it openly).  American society is subtle when it comes to discrimination - and subtle does not equal no discrimination; it merely means methods employed are more insidious in nature.  

It all starts with having to say hello to long hair, nails, make-up, girlish behavior, dresses, heels and other items on the socialization menu. I once came across an interesting question/opinion, 'How can women be taken seriously if they walk around in stupid clothes even little boys would not touch?' How ironic a woman said it.

She was right: in North America, women are socialized not being taken seriously is perfectly alright - in fact, it is cute and pretty.

Fortunately, some women know how to cleverly avail themselves of social expectations.

How so? 

Life is all about the devil in the detail. I would like to offer my personal - girlish - experience to present the nature of this devil in the detail. It ought to shed some light on this debate.

Not so long ago I finished working at a Dallas cafe.  The cafe where potential employees were Caucasian female blondes, native Texans with height at a minimum of 6ft, no more than 25-years-old.

I wanted to work there because they paid a lot and I desperately needed money. I entered the cafe and approached the manager (who also turned out to be the owner). I asked about employment opportunities, we exchanged a couple of sentences. He nodded vigorously and said he knew all there was to know about me.

I got the job.

After three months, the owner got ecstatic because his cafe was getting more and more popular. Good for all ten girls - it meant more money for us and we claimed the lion's share of the cafe's success.

One day, the manager announced that 'it was time to drop the blue jeans' - our uniform back then. I asked what he meant. He smiled and showed us ten little yellow dresses with red roses on them, with tassels hanging at the end. The dress ended around the middle of my thighs. Plus, he also

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