Omi O'Mai For some perspective, I had an interesting final for Feminist Theories in college. My project involved recording original music and making a music video of the process; I dressed as I normally would for some parts, but I recorded some parts dressed and made-up as a woman. My schedule worked out in such a way that I had to go to class with my hair still straightened, my makeup still on (I flinched a lot so my eyeliner was Ke$ha Central), and my ex's flares still making my ass look so amazing that she (and her mother) demanded that I keep them. While this was not my intention, I gleefully seized the opportunity to experience a SUBMICROSCOPICTINYNOTEVENCLOSE piece of what it would be like to walk around as a woman.
Holy. fukk. Never. Again. I got so many ridiculous cat calls and ass slaps and blatant SCARY propositions for sex ("baby if dey cops wasnt dere id take u home wid me right now mmHMM")...before I had even walked ONE CITY BLOCK. Needless to say, I felt The Male Gaze all day to the extent that it was literally always in the foreground of my mind. Sure, I knew that it happened and expected maybe a couple of guys to be momentarily confused, but no cisgendered male can POSSIBLY imagine the pervasiveness of this experience without walking around in it for a hot minute.
I did not dress that way to fool men...hell, I had no intention of walking out the door looking like that. It was only my hectic schedule that necessitated such a thing. This is the same for plenty of women. There are millions of reasons for wearing something at a particular time, and attracting The Male Gaze is just ONE reason that is on the fukking backburner most of the time. Sometimes, a woman wants to be comfortable, and sometimes that comfy thing happens to make her ass look ridiculously awesome. Sometimes, a woman has no time to get changed because she has, you know, A LIFE. Sometimes, a woman likes how her ass looks but doesn't want to be reminded of it by every engorged penis on the street.
Yes, the initial look is an instinctive thing of sorts. You notice. It happens. It's whatever...as long as it ends there. There is no need or excuse for excessive staring MUCH less catcalling or any other form of harrassment. The proper term for catcalling, by the way, is STREET HARRASSMENT. As Carrie Anne pointed out, a woman can look like The Queen of Frumpiness and still get this treatment; before anybody cries #hotgirlproblems, this shyt happens to women across the aesthetic spectrum...actually, across ALL spectra. I dare someone to go to a Take Back The Night or Slutwalk or some other gathering of survivors and even TRY to generalize. You can't do it.
As I say in my response to an OkCupid question regarding leg shaving, "Go home, patriarchy. You're drunk."
