Except that by covering these girls or "modesty dressing", you're telling them to be the thought police: that they are responsible for the thoughts and actions of others because of how they are dressed, but at the same time telling boys "you are not responsible for your actions because you're programmed to want sex". Even in countries where women wear burquas, the amount of women who are still sexually assaulted is ridiculously high.
We're putting the onus on the wrong people: it should NEVER matter what a person is wearing, YOU are responsible for your own thoughts and actions at ALL TIMES. A woman should be able to walk down the street naked, and not fear she is "asking for it". Now, am I saying you shouldn't find it sexy? Hell no. Get turned on all you want. Hell, go home and rub one out until your raw. That's fine. But, under no circumstances, is it okay to take her nudity as an invitation that she wants sex. Do you know how a woman wants sex? She actually SAYS so. Not her outfit (or lack of), not her "sultry glances", only her actual words. Think she's pretty and you'd like to ask her out? Do it, and do it respectfully. (By the way, cat calls are NOT a respectful way to tell a woman you find her attractive. They're cowardly and insulting.) And if she says yes? Congrats! And if she says no? Then the answer is just no, for whatever reason. No, the reason is not that she's a stuck-up bitch or she's a tease or she's a lesbian... it's just no. And a single "no" is the end of the conversation. Always. Walk away, move on, life keeps going.
One summer Sunday when we were still living in Queens, I got up to take our dog for his morning walk/potty break. It was around 7 AM, I was half awake and didn't really want to be up, so I didn't brush my hair, I tossed on my glasses, continued to wear the giant mens XXL t-shirt I had slept in, tossed on Mr. Z's shorts (which came to my knees) and a pair of sandals. If it weren't for my hair, I could have been mistaken for a guy. Still blurry-eyed, yawning and shuffling half a block from our apartment, a guy pulls up in his car next to me and proceeds to hit on me. I told him no and to go away. He continues to follow me with his car, all the while trying to "convince me to change me mind". I told him to fuck off several times and still he followed, telling me I shouldn't be out alone "looking so sexy". He would. not. stop. I had nothing but a small bag of poop, and a Westie to protect me. I didn't even have my keys because Mr. Z was going to buzz me back into the apartment. My only saving grace was the street I was on was mostly single family (or close to it) homes and I had lived there long enough to know/recognize/be recognized by a good amount to people on the block. So I started screaming. He sped off when people started poking their heads out.
Bare shoulders, burqas, sleeves, tits-in-the-wind... none of it matters. The only invitation is an spoken "yes", and the rest are thoughts that are solely the responsibility of the owner.
Previous posts were discussing that anything can be found sexual, and my point was whether someone finds it sexual is irrelevant: we shouldn't be worried about something being "sexy", we should be drawing a strong line on what is and isn't okay to do about it.
