Where’s my breast pocket? It’s not about the pocket.
Once upon a time, a man staffed on a women’s-focused project forgot about women
A few years ago, I was walking a client through the prototypes my team & I would be user-testing to increase savings among lower-income women in urban India. One of them was a simple paper envelope — easily portable, and also a reminder to save their small cash to deposit in their accounts.
The client — a VP at a bank in India — interrupted & stopped me mid-way through my presentation to tell me “we’ve already done this, it’s not going to work.” Then he waved at one of his teammates in the room, “go and get the wallet,” he said to him and turned back to me as we both waited. The teammate returned with what looked to me like a plastic card holder — a bigger version of something you’d save business cards in.
“Look,” the client spoke up again, “we distributed these,” he said opening up the plastic wallet. “They can put the cash in here,” he said fishing out a hundred rupee note from his pocket, folding it into the plastic wallet, closing it up. “And then they can just carry it right here,” he demonstrated as he slipped the plastic wallet into his shirt breast pocket.
I stared back at him blankly, then looked down at my own chest. I failed to find a breast pocket of my own. I thought of some of the women I’d be interviewing for the research, who would probably be wearing kurtas or sari blouses. I thought of my grandmother who I’d often seen fold up small cash and stick it right into her sari blouse or bra — a common practice among Indian women, when they don’t have a purse around. I then tried to imagine my grandmother sticking the plastic wallet into her sari blouse, its 4 hard corners protruding out awkwardly, making her uncomfortable.
I stood up, took the plastic wallet from the client, and tried to stick it into my “breast pocket.” Everyone in the room watched as the wallet — failing to find a breast pocket — dropped to the floor in one smooth, slow motion. Boom. Mic Drop. Point made.
Oh, how I wish I could be back in that moment and respond exactly like that. Instead, to honour the client relationship for my team, I not only let his mansplaining slide, I reasoned with him in kind, gentle ways.
PS: Did you notice one of the related search keywords? Businessman putting money, they say.
This story isn’t about my comeback, or about my envelope or his plastic wallet, or even about pockets. I know better than to expect female financial inclusion to be solved by an envelope or wallet. But, I think back to this story a lot. I think about all the sari clad women trying to fit a plastic wallet in so they can save their small cash for their families.
I wonder why, even with all the initiatives to have more diversity in the room, and with human-centred design methodologies that lean on user research — we are still failing to design for women? And what will it take to start designing for them?
One of the ways I’m exploring these questions is by engaging in deep research with gender and feminist practitioners. Read some of their stories here!
This post is an excerpt from Unconforming: a newsletter about Design for Women. Unconforming goes out every two weeks and also shares learnings from experts, job and other opportunities, examples and articles — all to make an impact in the women’s space. Sign up here to get it in your inbox!
