This occured to me the other day as a lovely young lady was crossing the street.
She was beautiful…and I was staring. She didn’t see me looking at her, but I have been caught before.
What’s it like when a man stares at your boobs instead of your face?
Just Wondering…JimmyNipples
Well, I’m not one of those who’s ever had to worry…at least not that I know of. But I can say for myself that as long as it was a healthy appreciation of my God-given attributes and not interferring with how I was treated as a person…I’d love it. And I think most women would agree.
struuter
I don’t love it. When people deal with me, I want them to deal directly with ME, not my body. And I don’t like to be stared at in general. Makes me feel like I have a giant booger hanging out of my nose or something.
How did feel when I used to be ogled? How about creeped out, violated, scared &/or pissed off. I used to be stared at so much I took to wearing everything 2 sizes too big. Once when I wore a shirt that actually fit to work one of my coworkers was stared at me for 8 hours.
I have the perfect cure now though- KIDS. No one ever looks at me now.
As a man I find it hard not to appreciate the absolute beauty of the female form.
Staring however, is rude.
When you have your kids with you? Or, child birth has changed your body so much, you don’t think any one would be interested?
Wear some sweat pants JN, with no underpants. Watch as women stare at your privates. How does that feel? Probably not the same but close.
There is a difference in appreciating the female form and ogling. Women can see it in the face of the man. Most women appreciate that admiring glance, but a man who just stares is unsettling to say the least. Handy has the right idea.
I don’t think so, handy. Men seem to like the idea of being treated as sex objects, probably because it’s novel. We women (speaking generally here) have to prove ourselves every day; with men, ability is accepted. Women, especially attractive women (not that I’m speaking from personal experience necessarily) have to prove they’re intelligent despite being beautiful. With men, attractiveness is an accompanyment to ability.
And think of this, how often men (jokingly) will interpret a woman’s glance as “she wants me.” While women want to be wanted, yes, we don’t like being treated as if our various body parts are on display for the ogling. As if we are no more than boobs and an ass.
That said, as a mom in her late 30s, if a catcall or ogle is sent in my direction, I’m grateful. 
It’s hard to say…I have gone out in public dressed like that…I don’t worry too much about stuff like that. I’m not a good barometer when it comes to being ashamed or embarassed of my body.
If someone is looking at my dink jiggling around in my track pants, so be it.
If they’re staring at that big piece of egg yolk stuck to my chin, that’s a different story…I don’t know why…but it is.
To answer my own question, if someone is staring at me, that might prompt me to ask what their problem was.
If they are looking at me with an admirering eye, I won’t mind at all…male or female.
I hate people staring at me, I have to fight the urge to punch them or point out that my eyes are up here, not on my shirt. I especially hate when my boss does it.
When a man ogles me I find myself becoming extremely turned on. I usually meet his gaze with a hot one of my own, and within minutes we find ourselves pressed up against the nearest wall in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the stares of passersby. Well, not entirely oblivious - if passersby stare hard enough to get my attention, I usually ask them to join in until we get a big ol’ streetcorner orgy going. [/sarcasm]
Truthfully, I don’t mind it that much. If someone wants to look at me, or in my neighborhood, yell “Hey mamacita!” it doesn’t bug me. It only creeps me out if someone stares directly at me (or my chest, more specifically) for an unusually long time. People look at one another. It’s natural. What’s unnatural in this country is when someone is coming toward you on a path and both of you have clearly seen each other but both of you avoid eye contact.
If you were to give me an appreciative glance, I wouldn’t mind. I might even be flattered. If you’re talking to me, however, your eyes had better be on my face, not my cleavage.
I’ll say this(being a man): I find myself doing a lot more staring at women who tend to invite it. By that, I mean women who go to the gym wearing tights & thong leotards, or sports bras by themselves, etc…, when the usual attire at my gym is shorts & t-shirt. It’s about the display rather than being a garden-variety lecher.
Speaking from the perspective of being ogled, I’ve recently lost about 45 lbs, and now have the occasional woman ogle me when I go out to clubs, or to the gym. It’s a very strange feeling- I’m not quite confident enough yet to assume that they’re looking at me in a positive way, so I’m always a little paranoid that maybe I have a booger hanging out, or some toilet paper out my pants, crud in my teeth, etc…
I imagine that if this was a constant thing, it would get extraordinarily frustrating and irritating. As it stands, I kind of like it- it’s a real confidence booster.
BumpWell, let me see if I can stretch my memory back that far . . . Ah, yes, the appreciative whistles of the lollygaggers as I lifted my hobble skirt to flash a shapely ankle as I walked up the Sixth Avenue El . . .
I used to like it very much, thanks, if it was a glance, a double-take or even a wolf whistle. I did not particularly like it when gentlemen told me what parts of their anatomy they would like to insert into what parts of mine. Once a gentleman stopped me on Broadway and said, “Goddam, you be baaad as a motherfucker!” I, being well brought-up, replied, “Why thank you—I’m sure you’re as bad as a motherfucker, too!”
I have since become invisible. Yesterday I was sitting on the subway next to a lovely blonde 20-something. I could have been holding my own decapitated head in my lap, but the eye of every man on the car would have remained lasered a foot to my right. Ah, well, “sic transit gloria swanson.”
To be perfectly honest, I don’t usually notice I’m being stared at unless it’s VERY obvious, or the starers whistle or comment. I’m kinda clueless that way. A few guys have informed me after the fact that they were staring at me in an admiring sort of way, and it’s always come as a complete surprise. (Whatever for?)
As far as I’m concerned, discreet glances are cool (especially since I won’t notice them anyway), anything that calls attention to itself is rude, and explicit commentary would earn the guy a slap in the face if I weren’t a complete wimp.
I’m probably in the minority here, but I sorta like it. I spent the summer I was 20 in Greece, and the men there are MUCH more open about ogling. You walk by a group of guys on the street, and they’ll blatently look at you and make this psss-pssss-pssss noise that’s the Greek equivalent of a wolf whistle. Sometimes they’ll stop you and try to talk to you. I used to talk and joke with some guys, and it was never much of a problem. If you acted mad and scared, they’d follow you and annoy you. If you smiled and said ‘Hi’, even if you just kept walking and said nothing more, they were nice and smiley back. Rather than being scared, I had the feeling that if any other guy started hassling me, these guys who I smiled at would jump to my aid in a second.
Anyway, the point of all that is when I came back to the States, I missed being looked at. I’d walk past a group of guys, and they’d do nothing, and I’d be like “What? Did I get ugly? Am I fat? Do I have egg on my face?”
In Greece, there was a definite & obvious difference between the sexes, and people took a lot of joy from that. I miss that openness. I think US women are constantly lying to themselves when they dress up all nice and then get mad when a guy or a group of guys notice them. When I take the time to care about what I’m wearing, damn right I want everyone to notice.
When I stare at a woman, usually it’s because either I find her attractive, she’s done something odd, or there’s something interesting about her.
Mostly it’s the first, which is why I prefer being online or on the phone to IRL. When I’m not IRL I can stare at any part of a woman so long as I have a picture, and she’s got no idea I’m looking at her. Of course, I tell people (females) when I think they’re attractive, but anyway.
I can remember being “ogled” twice. Once was in high school when I took off my shoulder pads to reposition them and some ladies happened to be walking by. They cheered and such and I looked up, looking for who they’d be cheering for. I asked . . . surprise surprise surprise it was me 
The other time I was walking out of a bookstore and someone walked past. My mother told me the person had turned to try and get a glimpse of my butt.
I suppose if I got ogled or anything like that I might object to it, but then I’m still adjusting to people not thinking I look like a leper’s bowel movement.
If I’m being ogled, I assume it’s just because someone’s noticed the chunk of hair Bowen’s pulled out of it’s place without me realizing it, or the spot on my shirt from Bowen hugging me with spaghetti sauce fingers, or something else that is directly related to being messy in one way or another because I’m a mom and mom’s can’t help but get messy.
Otherwise, they’re probably staring at my big butt and thinking, “Damn. That’s a big butt. I’m glad my girlfriend doesn’t have a butt that big.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been ogled in a good way.
Sure, Eve, like we’re gonna buy that line after seeing your pic. Hubba hubba.
Just wanted to compliment you ladies on being so discreet with your ogling that I haven’t caught you at it once!
Two words: mirrored shades.