Honestly: I look at boobs and asses. Like a moth to a flame. Here's the thing though. I don't leer, I don't stare. I will take a quick peek, be grateful for the wonderful female form, and that's that. HOWEVER: If a woman is wearing a top with giant boobs where you can see down the chasm in between to her belly button, much like Luke Skywalker flying an X-wing down the trench on the Death Star searching for the exhaust port, then I might stare a bit. And I say if she's wearing a top like that, she wants the guy to stare. If you're wearing a baggy ass sweatshirt, then guys shouldn't stare. But if you put them on display, expect them to be admired. That's all I can say.
This is true, however the difference appears to be based solely on how attractive you are - which is why that SNL video is so funny. 2 seconds of George Clooney looking? Her lucky day. 2 seconds of me looking? Hellloooooo, restraining order. The fact is what is a leer, and what is a glance? It all depends on what kind of day both people are having. If you're hungover, and can't see or focus real quickly, it feels like a stare. She's having a good day, feels good, and it's a glance. Bad day? Yeah, you've singlehandedly set back female rights 15 generations. But that's part of the fun, isn't it? Trying not to get caught, and IF you get caught, seeing what the reaction will be. When I get caught, and we ALL get caught at some point, I usually get 'Ewwww, you're old enough to be my dad. CREEP.' Sadly, they're usually right. I will say, when I bartend, it is so fucking easy to look, just due to the angle, and not get caught. Of course, you have to couple it with 'hey, would you like another drink, menu, etc...'
Focus: Cleavage. Do you look? Have you been caught? Do you care? Yes. Yes. Only when it was my cousin. Hey, ladies of TiB, you probably should post a picture of your boobs in the Boobie thread, to give us better reference points for your positions you've stated here. Give us several shots, maybe. One with a typical workday outfit, one with "Friday night out with the girls," and one where you are completely topless. You know, for science and stuff.
I bartend with good amount of 25ish girls all of whom have boob jobs, at every single event we do they wear low cut, tiny shirts and push up bras to make sure that everyone has a good view of their (and this is a direct quote) moneymakers. Men and women alike are mesmerized by them. Women who walk into a place in high heals and a tiny dress with their nipples clearly visible want everyone to notice them. When I bartend I usually look women in the eye to ask them what they want to drink then as I turn I get the look I need and move on.
If a woman walks bye wearing a low cut shirt I will glance. Basically once you started craning your neck you are well into leering territory and that is not cool. A quick glance is all you need. And when a female, no matter how well endowed, is covered up I do my absolute best not to even notice her chest because clearly she is doing her level best not to provoke that kind of attention. Now should I meet Angel even if she was wearing a Burlap sack she is getting blatantly stared at. Her fault for being that attractive.
So I'm the only guy here who wouldn't take a glance? Probably because I KNOW it's not me the woman/en in question are trying to attract. I guess sometimes (and about some things) I'm more self-aware than I should be. I've also been told I can be a bit weird due to me maintaining eye contact at almost all costs... so, there's that too. But you all know I'm weird anyway.
A few points: I have at times been called the most oblivious person in the world - I don't notice people, or details in my environment, or...well, you get the idea - but I can't recall too many instances where guys stared at my rack shamelessly. And I work with all men. Granted, when I walk through our fabrication shop I'm aware of being stared at in a general sense, but I don't catch anyone just glaring at my boobs and it certainly doesn't happen in the office. Either I'm just as oblivious as people have suggested or girls place undo importance on glances that aren't really happening. That being said, a reasonable comparison in this circumstance is not, "How would you feel if I stared at your crotch for 20 minutes?" That in no way conveys the creepy, uncomfortable, vulnerable feeling that can come from being the focus of someone's unwanted, intense attention. Imagine instead if every woman you met actively reached into your pocket to see how many credit cards you have. Or if every girl who worked with you tried to look over your shoulder at your pay stub or your online banking info. I always say that women feeling in some way sexually exploited is akin to how men feel when their finances are being threatened. Think it's funny to smack an unknown girl on the ass at the club? Imagine that girl logging on to your bank account and seeing what's what with your money. That's the feeling you're making her feel, so please don't think it's just a casual, harmless thing unless you know her and know for certain she's okay with it. This goes for any sexual/can-be-perceived-as-sexual behaviour.
When I worked behind a bar our goal was to get girls to play the ice game, where we'd try throw ice at their cleavage hoping to get it down their shirt. If we were lucky they'd flash us after, another thing we kept score of. Different strokes I guess.
Yeah, but DCC, he earned that money. Shouldn't he be proud to show it off? Why did he even make money if it wasn't for attracting hoes like me? Why did he pull out his gold card to pay for dinner if he didn't want me knowing that he's rich? I think that automatically gives me the right to rifle through his accounts. Or something. The main reason why this conversation (and its counterparts of far worse types of harassment - I, shockingly enough, don't really considered just a look to be harassment) is always a dead-end is because there's no equivalent for the male experience. Like DCC said, and as it has been pointed out, trying to pull the "Well how would you feel if you were constantly bombarded by women saying they viewed you sexually" argument is invalid because guys would love that. That is, unless the woman was ugly, fat, or old. (I think that double standard is much, much more prevalent with guys than with how girls react to looks and comments.) The money idea is the best attempt at doing that that I've heard, but it still is a totally different scenario. Your finances are generally expected to be private, and there are great lengths put forward to keep that information protected from either being seen or, especially, messed with. It would be ridiculous to argue against the guy having the right to feel violated if a woman hacked into his accounts. When it comes to harassment, or just looking, it's about the whole "a woman's body is public property" thing. A guy who gets angry at a girl for getting angry at him for looking or commenting is essentially angry about being sexually rejected by someone he expects to have access to whenever he wants. (At this point, I should reiterate that I'm talking more about harassment, rather than just looking, but the conversation in the thread has been asking the same questions and making the same arguments anyway.) I think it's difficult for guys to come to any kind of understanding about why women would feel uncomfortable or unsafe because of a look or a comment because -if we want to make huge generalizations, here - empathy isn't typically a strong suit. It wouldn't bother them and they can't put themselves in a place where they could understand why it would be upsetting, or to equate sexuality with danger, so they just refuse to accept the understandably frustrating answer of "It just is. And you just shouldn't." I'm honestly not even trying to be insulting. I think it's a part of "the male nature" that you've all been saying we just have to accept and deal with. Having that line of thinking is annoying but, on the whole, isn't the same as being a bad person. It's just the explanation I've noticed for why this conversation never goes anywhere.
Hell yeah I look. If you don't want to get looked at, wear a burqua. EVERYBODY LOOKS AT EVERYONE ELSE. Accept it. I have a tattoo along my belt-line, and I know that people are going to look at it when I go to the beach/pool. Sometimes those people are guys. I don’t want that attention, but it happens. For all of the women who argue against looking: What if a guy (or girl!) was looking at your shoes. Just staring at them. Would you get pissed off about that? They could very easily be thinking: “Hmm, I really like those shoes, I think I’ll buy some as soon as I get to a store that sells them.” Or: “Aww man, I’m puttin’ the image of those high heels in my spank-bank, because I can’t wait to imagine what it’s like to blow my wad all over those feet, then watch her lick it out from between her toes.” Would you feel as offended then as you would if he/she was caught staring at your chest?
Hahaha. My office is next to the Marketing department, which is staffed entirely by office-hot women who wear tight pencil skirts and mildly low-cut... tops. (I was going to say blouses, but I don't actually know what they are. Camisole? Shirt? Some sort of garment over their top half, anyway. Fuck you, my fashion vocabulary is lacking like your knowledge of who your father is. Ahem.) We also have a number of labourers and college students come in throughout the day, and they always, without fail (or maybe with epic fail), check out the women during long walks down the corridors. However, every corridor in my building ends in highly reflective glass doors, so the Marketing folk always catch them, and turn around and glare at them. I am entertained by this every single day, it's a classic amateur mistake that gets everyone who steps foot in my building, especially new hires. Good times. Context is paramount. I'm a single guy with a pool and a spa, and I host a shit ton of pool volleyball games / post-rave afterparties. I devote considerable effort to ensuring that my eyes stay where they're supposed to , because I want people to feel comfortable at my house and not like a juicy cut of meat someone has unwisely left in sight of a bunch of slavering wolves. (As an aside, I know it's going to be a good day when I get to use the word slavering.) (As another aside, I wish it didn't cost me considerable effort and I could just put it out of my mind, but I haven't mastered that particular level of zen yet. Maybe one day.) So, at my house, or as a guest in other people's houses, I am a perfect gentlemen and my will is iron. Shit, I have one friend (a marathon runner incidentally) who tends to get naked every time she gets on the gear, and I am practiced like a motherfucker at maintaining eye contact. I have slightly more relaxed rules at work. I'm surrounded by a few hundred hot Uni students on a daily basis, and I tend to shoot a quick glance and move on. I don't linger, but I also don't feel any particular guilt about it. You're hot, you know you're hot and dressed to show it, and good for you. I acknowledge with a glance and go back to my meeting. Bless you for improving my morning. There's one weird exception to this. I loathe a girl I'm forced to see on a semi-regular basis, on my beach volleyball team and at various social gatherings. She has extraordinarily large breasts. Now, I could not be less attracted to this girl. I find her repulsive on all levels, physically, intellectually, and I'd say spiritually except I don't think she has a soul. I think about places to hide her body every time I'm subjected to her verbal diarrhea. I'm also not, personally, a fan of particularly large breasts (apologies to those who have them, it's just my own aesthetic preference.) Dubyu Tee Eff and I will never fight over a girl. This woman though, is about a foot and a half shorter than me, has breasts roughly as large as my head, and wears nothing but tank tops and scoop necks that that just cover her nipples. I find it almost impossible not to look. And it's not like I'm enjoying the sight. Her mostly exposed chest is almost enough to temporarily dim my enthusiasm for breasts of all kinds, and yet I'm like a mouse staring at a cobra. It's captivating, like a trainwreck is captivating, and I still haven't quite figured out why.
I repped Dcc that if a "size queen" was constantly checking out our bulges, it might be closer, but they are looking to be discriminate as I think guys staring at cleavage is rather indiscriminate in nature. I think a better example would be how your average guy would feel if it were a fabulously gay male staring at their dongers.
Maybe it's where I live but the only girls ballsy enough to go out bare midriff are the ghetto ass girls that wear tube tops to the clubs. Maybe a classier style of bare midriff clothes are slipping my mind bit all I can think of are worn by ghetto girls and desperate cougars, all at clubs.
I don't have a clear opinion on this so anything about my thoughts wouldn't contribute anything to the discussion. However, I do think a lot of people need to be aware of this: <a class="postlink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naturalistic_fallacy" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naturalistic_fallacy</a>. Just because something is natural does not mean it is right. Right and wrong do not change with what you feel you can or can't control.
I look. I don't leer, but I definitely glance. By God, a girl with a nice pair can turn a shit day into one that's pretty okay. Sorry I think you're beautiful, ladies. I can't help it.
Is no one else here disturbed by the fact that this conversation has essentially gone: Men: BOOBIES! Women just want attention. Women: Hey, yeah, sometimes that's cool. But, to be entirely fair, this is my body, and sometimes I don't want attention. Men: Shut up. Imma do what I want. Also, your body is public domain. Cause I said so. Shit is fucked, yo. I mean, whether you look or not, it's pretty messed up to pretend as though you have some god-given right to ignore the discomfort that these women are *telling you they feel*. That's some primo male entitlement, right there, guys.