“What do women want?” asked Freud, and then proceeded not to answer his own question. Not that I have any answers. And American industry has not always responded well: for instance, the mid-1950s Dodge La Femme was as capable as any top-line Dodge of that era, but it was glitzed up with Detroit men’s ideas of girliness, with “accessories” such as a rain hat, bag and umbrella, which stored behind the front seat. The La Femme moved a mere 2500 copies in two years, or about as many workaday Dodges as fell off the transporter on the way to the dealership.

On the presumption that putting women in charge makes a difference, I betook myself to 10909 NW 36th Terrace this afternoon, a featured home in this year’s Parade of Homes, designed by a woman: Carolyn Schluter, head of Raywood Homes. Happily, she was on hand to take questions, and I took off my shoes — the place was apparently completed on Thursday and we didn’t want to mess up the floors — and took the Grand Tour. (If she had shoes at all, I never saw them.)

And if there’s anything especially feminine about this house, it’s flexibility. Men, according to stereotype anyway, want things in their places and that’s that. They, or at least I, didn’t anticipate Schluter’s “keeping room,” which is just off the kitchen — entirely too handy for those of us who are subject to snack attacks — and which she envisions as an informal gathering place for the family. It also makes a heck of a theatre: she’s built an HDTV into the wall above the fireplace, and you have to look to see the surround speakers. But I spent more time in the kitchen, largely because it’s actually designed with some sense of utility: there’s the ubiquitous island, yes, but it’s positioned to create distinct yet easily-accessible workspaces, a necessity for those huge family gatherings with too many cooks. The sinks are deep enough to accommodate any cooking utensil I’ve ever seen; the microwave is built into the far side of the island, on the sensible basis that it’s more likely to be used when there isn’t a major production going on elsewhere in the kitchen; the barrier between the cooktop and the island disappears into the countertop at the flick of a switch in case you need something just beyond.

Okay, this is gee-whiz stuff, which naturally appeals to guys, right? Maybe, maybe not. In the utility room, there’s a sink with a cabinet, and one drawer of that cabinet pulls out to reveal: a nearly-full-sized ironing board, which somehow was folded into half the space it ought to take up.

Out back, accessible from both the “keeping room” and the master bedroom (yes!), there’s a decently-sized patio with a built-in fire pit. There’s a smaller bedroom and a den/office up front; upstairs, two more bedrooms and an open area that could be a central playroom.

It is a measure of how well this floorplan works that I seriously underestimated the square footage, putting it around 2400. (The official number is 2859.) Too cozy to be that big, I misreasoned. The exterior is as pointy as the market demands, but the arch over the entrance is a nice touch, and the door is cut to match its curvature, which is even nicer. The price, $309,900, is a bit out of my reach, but I can’t imagine this place sitting unsold for too long. (Mental note: Buy winning Powerball ticket, commission slightly-smaller version of this house.) There’s an interview and a description of the home in the Real Estate section of the Oklahoman; you can read the text (no pictures, though) here.

And for the requisite Guy Thing for the week, if such this be: with the completion of a new facility for Firestone, their old service center, the last vestige of the old Atkinson Plaza, is finally coming down. (We do love us some wrecking balls.)

Lowest gas price seen: $2.039 for regular unleaded, at a 7-Eleven on NW 39th.