Ah, the Auld Alliance - feminists and gays versus the evil straight guys.
Reality check, Catster: the gay guy doesn’t refrain from hitting on you because he is enlightened enough to respect your personal space or is too considerate to prey on you, but because he’d as soon introduce his man-parts to a hungry weasel as your coochie. Do we praise the rabbit for its restraint in refusing to chase mice? 
Yup! One of the great things about going to graduate school at my age (57) is that I get to spend one entire day a week on the campus of a major university where the female-male student ratio is about 3-1. Yeah, they’re college coeds, but dear Lord, some of them are dumber than a box of rocks. I do love sitting in the student union eating my bologna sandwich, though. Scenery’s damn nice.
I’m not praising gay guys for not hitting on me. I’m simply saying that straight guys often don’t get what it is about getting hit on or cat called at that might make a woman feel oogy or unsafe. It’s a compliment after all. And when you counter, ‘Well how would you feel if women invited you into their car or grabbed at your body on the subway?’ they assume these women would be 18-year-old swimsuit models and claim they’d enjoy it very much. But when I’ve seen straight male friends get hit on – hard – by leather daddies or aggressive types in a gay neighborhood or club, it usually shakes them. They often go on and on about it 'til I point out that that’s what most women deal with all the time.
Let’s not forget that some young boys develop, early, and advertise their ‘goods’ in clingy school uniforms or low-riding ripped jeans and tight tees.
This.
Though I’m more of a brow-and-lash man myself.
Please realize it is not necessarily the skimpy covering, in many cases it is that the contents are so very, very. Gentlemen notice, but do not ogle or comment. Those that think displaying is offering are not gentlemen. I don’t earn the right to treat my colleagues with disrespect if they wear pants and underpant combinations that leave no doubt if they are cut or intact, and they don’t earn the right to be disrespectful to me if I am showing cleavage.
When I was fifteen, I wore a white and pink calf length cotton sun dress to school. It was well within the dress code. It had wide straps. I had to buy it two sizes bigger than my waist would normally warrant and I put darts at the top and waist so that it fit the way the style was intended to, and since I was clever with a needle, the changes were not visible, they just made it fit better, mainly ensuring that it would not gape to show my bra.
When I wore it to school, I was approached by the assistant principal midday and told I would need to go home and change as there had been complaints. I saw another student in the same dress and asked if she were going to be asked to leave too. He called her over, looked up both up and down (frowning and slightly shaking his head, and then politely apologized for the confusion said we were both free to go back to what we had been doing. The girl I pointed out was just a bit thinner over all than I was, but we probably had similar waist sizes. There had been no complaints about her. That man gained my respect that day.
That summer someone threw himself out a window lunging at me while several other hung out the window making catcalls while I passed wearing a baggy sweat shirt and a belt over shorts, which were not even short shorts. 42-28-38. I say enjoy the view, but realize that doesn’t excuse rudeness or worse.
Even in my fantasies I’m not so divorced from reality as to imagine an 18yo swimsuit model being interested in me. But from an average Jane, yeah, I could probably cope with that better than a leather daddy, although I personally haven’t been harassed by a homosexual since I was about 12, and these days I think I’m well-adjusted enough not to freak out too much.
There’s probably a whole 'nother thread topic in whether the average straight gal finds it as oogy being hit on by a guy as by a shaven-headed diesel-dyke, which is maybe a fairer comparison to the scenario you outline.
I like it better when they wax.
Back in my 20s I had a gay guy hit on me in a bar, going so far as to grab my ass. I think I handled it okay, but in that case the guy was a casual friend and I was already aware he was gay. He was quite drunk, too - otherwise he would have kept it in check. Apparently the bartender (also gay) had a little chat with him the next day about his behavior, and the next time I went to that bar the guy was extremely apologetic - and I didn’t have to pay for a drink all night
I worked with a fairly butch lesbian for a while, and some of our straight female coworkers were extremely freaked out by her.
As long as they don’t draw them back on. Ugh!
Lashes, too? No, thanks. 
This is a topic I’ve been pondering for a while, since I’m the mother of a 10 year old girl who over the last year or so has grown a quite impressive rack (for a 10 year old - or for a 13 year old, for that matter) and a rather bodacious booty. She’s also tall for her age (5’2" or thereabouts) and from the back you’d swear you were looking at a curvy 15 or 16 year old. Hell, my best friend fosters four teenage girls, ages 15-17, and my daughter’s taller than three of them.
Yet she is still just a 10 year old, interested in fantasy and sci-fi and horses, Naruto, video games, Hannah Montana, and Littlest Pet Shop; how do I begin arming her for the negative attention she’s bound to start receiving? I’ve always been pretty average looking myself, and am usually oblivious enough to the people around me so that even if men were ogling me I probably wouldn’t notice (and I seem to attract losers, for some reason - I’ll never forget the guy who swaggered up to me and said suavely, “Hey, babe, you can call me Yamaha!” but I digress) so I’m not sure what to tell her as she gets older. How do I instill those mental shields she’s going to need to keep the inevitable boors and leches from making her ashamed of or uncomfortable with her body? My husband’s suggested solution involves a 24 hour guard and a shotgun, but I feel that’s impractical and messy.
Also, half-assed. For real peace of mind, you’ll need to throw a Rottweiler with AIDS in there, too.
Unfortunately, true gentlemen are - and have always been - in the minority.
That was a joke. I work in a datacenter full of creepy, staring guys. An attractive girl started there a couple months ago and recently told me that I’m the only one who didn’t stare at her all the time and creep her out.
Oooh, she likes you, ask her to have sex!
Nah, too much trouble. Just stare at her until you’ve got her every feature memorized, then take matters into your own hand.
Ah, the Classic Method.
If you’re lucky you can catch a glimpse of ankle too.
And ladies don’t show off their midriff. Amazing how many people forget chivalry was a two way thing. 
There’s a young lady where I work. From what little info I’ve indirectly overheard I believe she’s in high school. It seems that the only type of shirt she has is a very scooped front. Am I gonna look? Yadamnright. But I’m not gonna be all obvious about it. That just smacks of a) desperation and b)wanting a punch in the jaw and a pink slip.