The NY Post ran this “opinion piece” this week.
(I won’t link to it, since I need the web visitors more than Rupert Murdoch does.) I guess opinions are like nipples – everyone’s got ’em, and some people have the need to share theirs with the world – probably after standing in front of a fan – but we wish they wouldn’t. Yuck-o. So the “writer” shares this pic of herself, above, along with the following:
Of course, not all catcalls are created equal. The good ones are innocuous, not crass or obscene. To clarify, a compliment is “You’re beautiful,” and not “I like your nipples,” a crude comment beyond the point of no return.
More like POINTS of no return, plural. Haw.
What in the world could provoke someone to make such a crude comment? How could they even see your nipples when your beauty is standing at attention like that?
(You just know this chick did the ALS ice bucket challenge with no bra, and then got mad that it didn’t go viral, and that the few comments weren’t about ALS.)
Never mind, the piece doesn’t need anyone to make fun of it. It’s so beautifully, perfectly ridiculous on its own.
But here are my random thoughts on catcalls:
– Such an old-timey word. Why, fellas, I may be a modern dame, but hold the catcalls. You sound like a bunch of cads! Say, look at the time, I’m late to meet the gals from the steno pool for our lunch at the Woolworth’s counter.
– They’re never true compliments, because those guys aren’t discerning. I’ve heard them call out to some real woofers. – I never liked it when they yelled “Hey Mami” to me. Again, because that doesn’t mean you’re hot, just young and female.
– Also didn’t like, “those are some bigass titties,” because no duh, and because if I wanted to hear that I could wander through the bra section at Townshop, where the sales people ask what size I’m wearing and then when I say, a D, they laugh and say, “Uh uh, you’re not a D, you a F.”
– Note I’m weaving in a lot of past tense. Never liked, didn’t like, etc. That’s because they no longer yell anything at me. When I walk past construction workers now, I stare them down with an expression that says “I dare you to say something.” And then, an expression that’s more like, “You forgot my birthday.” Because they don’t say shit.
They just stare back joylessly. Like I’m harassing them. Or blocking their view of a so-so-looking 25-year-old.
– If you’re a construction worker reading this, and you do want to flatter me, here are some things you can try:
“Hey ma’cita, those are your most flattering jeans, you should wear them with everything. You been doin’ pilates?”
Or how about, “You look so good, you should go out dancing tonight! Wearing that exact outfit!” Oh silly, I haven’t gone out dancing in years, I wouldn’t even know where to go now, but you’re so sweet to say that.
Or how about, “Hey, don’t you write Talking Shrimp? You, Mami, are a genius!”
That’s right, guys. {Taps forehead.} My nipples are up here.
And…scene. Curtsy.
ps Really? I’m too old for a simple “Hey Mami?”
So what do you think?
Is it flattering when those guys “catcall” at you?
And if you’re a dude who’s never known the pleasure, you can still share your opinion. Or your nipples.
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.
The few time my nipples shown walking in New York I got nothing!! Very upsetting. I was doing my full John Travolta Saturday Night Fever strut and everything. You’d think the construction guys would just melt. But nothing. Cruel this world. So cruel.
As for the “writer” well….when I lived in San Diego I would see women walking around in their underwear. Or whatever they happened to have handy to cover – kind of – their points of interest. So her outfit looks slightly tame if you can believe it.
As the only guy to reply so far I will say the women of the group certainly have to put up with so much crap on a daily basis it’s amazing a ninja sword hasn’t been wielded on this behavior. Just sucks.
Alright off to sit on my balcony to check out the hot ducks in the pond behind my house. Those mallards have some serious form! I hope my quacking makes sense to them…
Anne, Don’t forget about the teeth sucking sounds.
It is so very un-feminist of me, but I have to say that the catcalls- which are a daily occurrence in Rio, always make me smile. Now I don’t usually make eye contact, unless the callers are very close by and it is unavoidable. It just seems like an incredible benign kind of flirting.
Here on the continent though, so far, no cat calling. My first trip ever to New York City, someone called me a “broad”- same era as “catcalling?”
OMG Kimberly…I was trying to figure out what to call those teeth sucking sounds… those CRACK ME UP!
Great post Laura!!!
It reminded me that I’ve kinda been a very proactive blocker of cat calls for a long time.
My favorite methods:
Stare them down. Taunt them to just “try me”. Fight back with the worst comeback ever,”you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
Oh yeah – I’ve demonstrated equally questionable behavior right back hahahah.
The kind of catcalls I find amusing are the kissing sounds, whistles and animal mating sounds.
Side note – my Russian husband just said,”cat calls only happen in the 80s movies. It just doesn’t happen”
Ha!
The only catcalls I get anymore are from my kids and they usually are something like “YOU’RE SO MEAN!” to which I reply “You’re right. I’m mean and wicked”.
No love fantasy here.
xoxo
Do they yell that at you when you pass them on the street?
The only catcalls I’ve ever received: “Cheer up!” or “Smile!”
My response: “No” or “You cheer up!”
Or, if I’m feeling bold: “My mom just died”
That last one always shuts them up.
I always get “smile.” I guess I don’t blame them – I don’t just have bitchy resting face, I have fugly resting face.
I’m going to try, “I’ll smile when I don’t have a prolapsed anus.” Just because I like that phrase.
I just looked up prolapsed anus and spent 10 minutes reading about sphincter muscles. #stillnotworking
Hmm…
I heard those catcalls in my twenties. Not much in my thirties though.
I could say from construction workers,walkers, bikers, and weird old men. Dunno why.
Had some interesting comments: “woohoo, lovely lady to I wanna lay you.” Mind you, this was from my own cousin so, I don’t know if that counts. Anyhoo.
Ya, in my 30’s, those comments make me wonder if I lost my mojo since my “tata’s” are bigger now. I still get those intense stares..from me now. I digress as Sophie says from Golden Girls.
Is that creepy to share that?
Just love Belgray.
OK, is the cousin thing true, or a brilliant joke? Either way, I love it.
So I love these stories – I think this is why some young guns become blue collar workers yeah? Imagine the ‘suits’ yelling these out from their mid-morning latte’s in the CBD?
Anyway – check out this video of our Aussie blue collar workers displaying some manners 🙂
http://www.9news.com.au/entertainment/2014/03/27/07/31/tradies-praise-passing-women-in-viral-video
That’s excellent!
Want me to hang out at the Union Square farmer’s market tomorrow and holler about your “bigass titties” so you know you still got it? Because you do 😉
Yes, please. Just don’t cock-block me from getting my sample on.
Ahh! I feel like this is one of those perception things… if you’re having a good day and you get a catcall you take it in stride (aww, so sweet!). If you’re not, then it can really rub you the wrong way (leave me alone!). At least that’s been my experience. 🙂
I grew up in a small town and people hollered random things from their balconies (not construction workers) while you walked by… and that, I have to say, it’s just creepy. I don’t know if it falls under the catcall category or not, but that was my first experience with random words being thrown your way on the street. 0_0
I think I’m in the Belgray camp and I stare them down or ignore as fiercely as possible. 🙂
Hollering from balconies seems so Shakespearian!
It’s like, 1400’s creepy.
Now you’ll have to report what style catcalls go down in Texas. Big ones, I guess.
How’s this, customized for you: “I’M GETTIN’ A POPUP LOOKIN’ AT YOU, MAMA!”
A long, long time ago, when I was a cat-callee, I was often caught between being offended at some comment, usually crude “Hey, big Mama, those are some big ones,” and being insulted that no one noticed me. Now I’m caught between being grateful at being offered a seat on the bus and being insulted that someone thinks I need one.
Mom, that’s gold. You may need to guest blog here.
Confession: The last solid catcall I got was back in 2012.
I’m gonna guess he was 80-something. You think that counts?
Don’t answer that… I’m claiming it!
Something tells me this gal struts around in 3-4 inch heels near construction sites to get a boost.
Who am I to hate. Whatever floats your boat! Right? Just hope she finds other forms of validation, and soon!
Truvy from Steel Magnolias said it best… “Honey, time marches on and eventually you realize it is marchin’ across your face.”
PS: I love you more and more each day! Wanna Skype? JK… Well, maybe.:)
I love you back! Especially for your last-known catcall factoid. I bet that now-82-year-old would still check you out. You still got it, girl!
NO. Like you said, I’ve seen them do it to the woofers walking in front of me, but depends on the day and at the least I’ll think it is funny.
You know what Patti Stanger (Millionaire Matchmaker) would say to her: “Stop leading with your boobs”. haha
At least I’m not picking with my boobs, I’m picking with my picker. No need for the parenthetical here! I know all too well who Patti Stanger is.
Catcalls blow. I remember when I used to be serious about running and I’d do about 10 miles. Near the end of my run, just as I was nearing the end of a big hill I’d inevitably get a frightening catcall from behind, only to raise my heart-rate more. Stupid catcallers.
Oh yeah, when I used to run, sometimes they’d jog in place and mime “bouncing boobs” with their hands. That was fun.
Opinions are like shrimp. Some are allergic to it, some enjoy it. My experience with stare usually is: I tell to myself “yeah, still got it” and more than often I either have- unbeknown to me (until I check in a mirror)- a hole in my pants, my blouse unevenly buttoned or, as per recently, a massive cutaneous allergic reaction to… shrimp. I still enjoy this blog though ,-)
And some are allergic to shrimp AND enjoy it. You must watch this Broad City clip. http://www.cc.com/video-clips/3trrva/broad-city-adrenaline-
Little story for you: I once walked past a group of guys at the 4th St basketball courts. They yelled “hey sweet cakes!” as I approached. And then, once I’d passed them, and they could see my stretched out baggy sweatpants butt, one yelled “Make that sourdough!”
I laughed out loud through this entire post, L. Ha ha ha.
I kind of feel like if anybody yells anything to me from a construction site, I’m more likely to turn around and yell, “What up, pappppiiii!”, throw ’em a smile, and be on my merry way. It kind of feels good, like you’re flipping the script, and having some fun with it.
Frankly, I think the world could use a little less rigidity. Then again, THERE ARE LINES. You cross that line, and I’m giving the Belgray look. Steel, baby. Steel.
Oh, no biggie, but that’s The Belgray Look™. And I’ll be totally flattered if you give it. While saying “What’s up, Papiiiii” so they’re confused.
Do you still live in Chile? You must be fluent in Spanish Catcalls. Pssst, oye guapa, estas muy buena hoy.
I like that you call her a “writer”. You know, like, in quotes. Damn girl, that’s cold!
This article was already the topic on a long thread on a Vassar friend’s page…needless to say, the womyn there were not too impressed with her either.
There’s some construction going on near my office building right now, and every morning as work begins there’s about 30 guys sitting around on their morning break, watching the businesswomen in their hottest of office garb enter the offices. I can imagine their lines: “Ooh girl, you could take my deposition ANY day!” “I’LL edit your spreadsheet!” “Dictation? I’LL give you some dictation!”
Question 1: is one allowed to combine the “good” and “bad” compliments and say “I think you have beautiful nipples?”
Question 2: Like a tree falling in a forest with no one to hear it, is one allowed to wait for hot mamacita to walk past, and then say, sotto voce so that she can’t even here “My word, there goes the fairest maiden I have thus seen today. She is the everything; the everything AND a bag of finely sliced, and then fried in oil, potatoes.”
By the way, if I look hard enough I think I can see the “writer”‘s nipples in that photo…c’mon, she’s just ASKING for that compliment, isn’t she?
Um, really? You have to look hard to see the “writer’s” nips? I can barely see anything else in the photo.
Oh, I’ll bet them Vassyr Wimmyn got up in arms about this one.
And don’t say “spreadsheet” to them. It smacks of the Male Gaze. Because it sounds dirty.