It's shameless, and I'm sure old-wave feminists can't stand it, but I'm an "Adam's Rib" type gal. Katherine Hepburn wanted the best of both worlds there: she wanted equal respect in the workplace, but she also enjoyed distracting opposing counsel (incidentally, her husband) with glimpses of her lacy slip, and she accepted "lady driver" as an excuse for her atrocious behavior behind the wheel. She knew how to get everything out of her femininity.
I, too, like seeing what I can do. I'll work to get a translation thoroughly done, but if seamed stockings earn a bit more tolerance of grammatical errors from a crotchety old professor, why not? If graduate students and somewhat middle-aged Parisian men are eager to buy me lunch or dinner, why not let them? (Well, not the Parisians, not this time at least, but the grad students.) They're eager to part with their money, and they're not getting anything from me but sparkling conversation, so why not take advantage of them? If smartly-dressed young men on the bus, who ignore the sorority girls, offer me their seat, why not take it? If burly neighbors want to help me carry my groceries instead of having me take three trips up and down stairs, why not let them? Why not let them show the manners they were brought up with? Sure, I've just carried several thirty-pound boxes of books and a remarkably heavy secretary upstairs (that latter with much-appreciated help from the Texas Roommate), but just because I can do something doesn't mean I need to deprive others of the pleasure of doing it for me! (Demure eyelash flutter.)
What's more, I hope they change the constitution, because I'm so tempted to vote for president based on looks. (Then again, certain female candidates have run on a sex appeal campaign -- to say nothing of certain tall leggy blonde pundits (with remarkably unattractive lower legs)!)