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Scene Points: Metal Chick

 by Chelsea Ide  published on Thursday, November 3, 2005

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I was stopped at a red light the other day and a UPS truck pulled up beside me. The mid-20-ish man in brown looked confused and kept glancing at me. All of a sudden, he lit up with excitement and was grinning from ear to ear. He figured out that the music he was hearing was bubbling out of my moon roof. The small, blonde girl in a fitted hot pink T-shirt next to him was cranking Slayer's "Raining Blood," a thrash metal classic. He threw up the horns, the international "fuck yeah" hand gesture of metalheads, as the light turned green.

I get this reaction all the time, and I love it. There just aren't many women into heavy metal. The stereotypical metal fan is a burly, heavily tattooed guy with lots of hair basically a fat dude in a Cannibal Corpse shirt. He headbangs and yells out for any band he sees to, "Play some Slayer!" Women make up roughly 10 percent of the crowd at mainstream metal shows, and the number declines as you get into the death metal scene.

I was one of eight women at a recent Cryptopsy show, and to top it off, I don't look like any of them. I scanned the crowd when I showed up, looking for my friend Leah. I didn't see her. The few women I did see all appeared to be ex-strippers. One had a leopard print piece of fabric held to her chest by two strings tied in back, a short skirt and a gut that fell over the top of the skirt (thus the theory that she's a former stripper).

So, here I am at the Clubhouse in a white tank top and jeans (one of only two people in the crowd not wearing black) being looked up and down by a bunch of metal dudes because I'm blonde. The consensus of these guys was that I was there with my boyfriend. You know, just tagging along and would be better suited at a Jimmy Eat World concert. Luckily, once the band started and they saw I was into it, I was accepted.

Headbanging unites metal kids. They're willing to let you join their little group if you know the rules. They'll test you by asking if you dig Immolation (yes). It's disappointing that having blonde hair and an affinity for clothing that fits properly causes the metal crowd to question why I came to a concert.

I actually once dated one of the guys who tested me about my metal conviction. I just can't resist a pretty boy with stretched earlobes. On our first date he said something that threw me: "You're not like any other metal chick." I had planned on taking that as the typical, "You're not like most girls," that guys always say when they're into you. But I was wrong. I made the mistake of inquiring how I was so different.

"You're just so girly (cough) I mean, feminine."

"I'm not that girly!"

"You wear cute clothes, care about your hair and make sure you smell good."

"Isn't that what normal people do? Doesn't everyone care about their personal appearance?"

He then pointed out that metal chicks don't paint their toenails especially not pink. Also, apparently when you're metal you're not allowed to have an aversion to gross, crawly things. So, my tendency to climb onto chairs to avoid bugs voids my metal chick card.

I kept dating the guy because he clarified that I was the best of both worlds: a classic girly-girl who happens to be incredibly knowledgeable and passionate about heavy metal.

Reach the reporter at chelsea.ide@asu.edu.

Also, the reader's poll is still open. Vote at www.asuwebdevil.com.



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