The other day I was walking through Square One Shopping Mall in Mississauga admiring the cute denim-clad backsides of three young construction workers in hard hats walking ahead of me. I’ve always had a weakness for construction workers and there’s something particularly sweet about nice tight male bums framed in leather tool belts. Then, with the precision and synchronization of a military marching band, all three heads instantly snapped to the right when a twenty-something girl wearing very snug white shorts and a sparkly tight pink tank top went strutting by on firm, tanned legs. Their reaction made my day; put a huge smile on my face. Political correctness aside, their spontaneous reaction was a joy to witness.

Nice tool belt, mister!
Nice tools!

Once upon a time, I too could possibly generate a similar reaction from construction workers. While many feminists (myself included) have derided young men for making kissy sounds or whistling as you walked by a construction site, on some level it felt flattering to be appreciated, albeit superficially. I miss those days. I clearly remember that hot July lunch hour in 1968 getting my ass grabbed in my mini-dress at the corner of Bay Street and Temperance (ironic, eh!) in Toronto. My reaction at the time was shock and indignation and I don’t condone such behaviour, but truth be told, I now regularly carry out an old lady visual reenactment of the same thing almost every day in my own version of reverse sexism.

My sixty-eight-year-old brain hasn’t quite computed that I’m no longer in the game—except in Florida where I’m still considered jail-bait. It’s like appreciating a beautiful sunset or a yummy pair of python stilettos (that I can no longer wear) on display in a store window. The appetite for beautiful things never diminishes. So, all those cute young guys in snug jeans or the junior stock traders in perfectly tailored business suits walking Bay Street at lunch time, watch out for this little old lady from Miss-iss-auga. There’s an entire generation of admirers who like what we see and we’re definitely thinking politically incorrect thoughts. You’re on our radar so walk proud. Some day you’ll be wearing mom or dad jeans just like us, so enjoy it while you can.




Lynda Davis

As an early Baby Boomer, born in 1947, it seems to me that as we approach our retirement years, Boomers have gone from being the energy driving our nation to slowly becoming invisible. We risk losing our identity as society remains stubbornly youth-centric. And the irony is that Gen Xers and Ys are not the majority; we are. BOOMERBROADcast is my platform for being the voice of Baby Boomers, women in particular. We've generated a lot of changes over the decades but there's still a long way to go. After a 40-year career in the corporate world, I've taken up expressing the observations and concerns of our generation. Instead of pounding the pavement in my bellbottoms with a cardboard sign, I'm pounding my laptop (I learned to type on a manual typewriter and old habits die hard). If you have issues or concerns you would like voiced or have comments on what I've voiced, I'd love to hear from you. We started breaking the rules in the sixties and now that we're in our sixties it's no time to become complacent. Hope you'll stay tuned and if you like BOOMERBROADcast, share it with your friends. Let's rock n' roll! If you would like to be notified whenever I publish a new posting, click on the little blue box in the lower right of your screen that says +Follow→ Lynda Davis

This Post Has 2 Comments

  1. Got ’em already and love struttin’ them with my motorcycle boots. Not quite ready for purple hair yet, though.

  2. Lynda, if you don’t have a pair of skinny jeans in your closet, it’s time to buy some and get out there and strut your stuff. You’re never too old!

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