The most famous sharpshooter in American history happens to be a woman. Born in 1860, Annie Oakley, the headline star of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show, became a legend in her own lifetime, and an even bigger one after it. She could handle any pistol or two-barrelled rifle “better than any man”, and the public warmed to the plucky spirit of Little Miss Sure Shot.
Oakley’s appeal endures to this day, yet, next to abortion rights, there is no more polarising issue facing the US than its gun laws. Despite the country’s nearly 12,000 gun homicides a year and the alarming increase in mass shootings in the past eight years, the second amendment remains close to many Americans’ hearts.
Last year a New York Times/CBS poll found that the number of Americans supporting a ban is 19 points lower today than it was after the shooting of congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords in 2011. Alongside that alarming statistic, the NRA claims that 23% of American women – the gun lobby’s new targets – are now armed.
Manufacturers are adapting to this by selling their weapons as if they were designer phone cases or fashionable handbags; there may be a gender rebalance in ownership, but that doesn’t mean that traditional notions of femininity are being compromised. Just as Oakley traded on her femininity, wearing her hair long beneath a 10-gallon hat, so women today in the southern belt seem to be enjoying the spectacle of being seen as both feminine and an expert shooter. Customised rifles in lavender or frosted pink, and prettily decorated holsters, are a common sight.
In Moland Fengkov’s photographs from Texan gun clubs, women are pictured posing with their AKs like trophy hunters of old. One woman stares defiantly out at the viewer, looking as if she might belong to a group of survivalists. Wearing short pants, she’s kneeling, one cowboy boot planted firmly on the soft carpet. She looks tough, ready to make America great again, yet the artificiality of the moment can’t be avoided – this is hardly a scene of armed combat.
Contrast it with the image of the woman whose auburn hair is blowing across her face. Holding her pink pistol rather daintily in her fingers, she looks as if she might be posing on the QVC channel. Despite the Live Love Shoot motto on her T-shirt, the pistol looks little more than an accessory.
It’s not just an increase in the number of young women that are training at shooting ranges – children are coming, encouraged by their parents. To make the experience more “child-friendly” (children as young as four are welcome at some ranges), you’ll find cute gun holders and belts – naturally, it’s pink for girls.
One child, of about 10, looks like she might be posing for her communion photo, except that she’s proudly holding a pink rifle and wearing pink ear protectors and dark goggles. One finger, frosted-blue nail varnish visible, points toward the trigger, yet nothing about this picture feels quite real. The weapon is made to look as unthreatening as possible. The girl looks as if she’s posing for a formal rite-of-passage: she’s smiling but not quite relaxed, proud but clearly self-conscious. That smile could be glued on. Some things change, and some things just never do.
Above: A girl poses with her pink rifle; her Austin gun club runs sessions for four- to 14-year-olds.
Above: A four-year-old girl practises with her father.
Above: Once a month, the Sure Shots club hosts shooting practice for children, where human-shaped targets are replaced with balloons.
