Comics are a particular area of contention for nerd girls. I could talk about the lack of big female heroes or women in refrigerators, but I’ll just explain the problem thusly:
Frustrating as it is for women, most female heroes still have Playboy Bunny syndrome. They are empowered—faster, strong, cunning, straight up powerful— yet are still objectified, being drawn in slinky costumes with absurd physical proportions that look like something out of a Picasso painting. But that’s an issue for another day.
Last week, Noelle Stevenson, aka tumblr artist Gingerhaze, posted a comic about her experiences as a girl going to a comic book store. Here’s a snippet:
Noelle said:
Oh, I know I have it better than a lot of would-be comics buyers, and that’s what worries me. I’ve had it with the self-appointed gatekeepers in comics.
As a comic fan (read: a HUGE Marvel fan), there were points in her comic where I could relate with her experience.
I mean, imagine my joy when I moved to college and found out that there was a lovely little comic book store within a few minutes’ walking distance from campus. While some students go to the bars on weekends, I could walk a few doors up to the comic store and just browse and be perfectly happy.
If I could get comfortable enough. As Noelle accurately shows, usually my experience with my local shop is something like this:
I often feel overwhelmed when I go into comic book stores just looking to find something interesting to read, and there are few (if any) handy guides that can catch you up on all the background that comes from a decades-long stories. But I’m sure that’s not an uncommon problem, much less a problem reserved only for female comic fans.
Even this one requires significant backstory. And I’ve seen The Avengers
But thankfully, over winter break, my boyfriend got my the loveliest gift: a subscription to Marvel Digital Unlimited, a comics service that allows you to read hundreds of thousands of digitized Marvel comics for one price. That meant I got to break down some of those barriers that keep people out of comics, and I was able to fight against the gatekeepers.
This weekend, I went to two comic book stores to test this theory. This is what happened.
Friday night.
Friday night my boyfriend (henceforth known as “Red”) volunteered to take me home from school—that meant home-home, not my apartment near campus.
Thankfully, we didn’t have to take his bike.
After a yummy dinner of sushi at our usual place, we both wanted to peak around the corner at the local off-campus comic store. I wanted to go to check out the new issues of Marvel’s new-ish Hawkeye series, while Red wanted to check out Friday Night Magic, the weekly Magic the Gathering draft games.
The store was pretty crowded. I was very happy browsing the shelves, looking beyond the Marvel shelves and onto the DC and Indie shelves. Red wanted to stay at the store play Magic the Gathering since he knew some of the guys who were in the store for the Magic card draft. I had some running and homework to do, so I left and came back. While Red played his next two opponents, I sat in the store and typed away on the assignment I had due at midnight.
I admit I felt weird for hanging around the Magic players without actually having anything to do there; I’m sure that’s no different from what people feel like who go and sit at a Taco Bell to do homework without actually buying food. Especially since I’m pretty sure Taco Bell, much like this comic book store, lacks free wifi. This is the kind of thing you can do exclusively at a Starbucks, is what I’m saying.
But as for being a girl in a comic book store, I didn’t feel weird or intimidated. In the fall I had looked around the store and found myself utterly vexed by the hundreds of series. Now, having read some recent series, I looked at the Avengers vs. X-Men, Joker’s Daughter, and even the True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys with a sense of expertise.
My inner My Chemical Romance fan came out in spades.
Bottom line is that though the store was mostly filled with the male Magic players and employees, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. The guys didn’t mind me hanging around (I can talk and play enough about Magic to keep up with their games), but more importantly, I didn’t need Red as a crutch to feel welcome there. I was welcome on my own.
Saturday.
A new comic book store opened up in my hometown a few weeks ago. Since it’s Red’s birthday today, I wanted to go to get him a present (SHHHHH don’t tell him.), so my brother took me yesterday so we could check it out.
This comic book store was a dream come true.
Selection-wise, it wasn’t too jaw-dropping, but it had a boatload of new comics, as well as a $1 comics bin in the back of the store. There were assorted toys, statuettes, board games, and books all around the store. Their selection went beyond comics and into retro gaming, board and card gaming, and even model building.
But the best thing about the store was the kids.
I live in a very suburban town. There’s one other comic book store, and it’s kind of out of the way and definitely very elite—when my brother and I went to it back when I was in high school, we overheard two guys in the store arguing the price of an issue of Spider-Man #1. This store definitely catered the vibe of the town better, and it was crowded. Not only were groups of adults flooding in, but there were moms and dads were their kids there. While one dad poured intently over the $1 bin, his young daughter (in a pretty pink dress and Chuck Taylors, I’d like to note) casually picked out her favorite comics from the bins on the floor.
There was no hostility or awkwardness in the store. The employees didn’t glare at the young kids that were roaming the store. The workers were very friendly and helpful, even though it was packed— and one of ’em was a lady.
It’s really freaking awful that women still have to suffer sexism when going to comic shops, but I’m glad that this weekend I’ve had such positive experiences while comic shopping. These stores and this weekend in general give me hope.
It’s good to know that while it’s still kind of intimidating to break into the world of comics, there aren’t always big scary nerd guardians in your way.
Ahem.
Idiot Nerd Girl 
Wow you sure talk/write alot.
I get paid by the word.