Every body likes to look at women. All the magazines for men are full of pictures of women. All the magazines for women are full of pictures of women.

American women will say that they do not like to look at women. It's not true of course, they are aware of what is worn, shoes in particular. Afraid of being attached with lesbian overtones American women deny any attraction. But a Japanese woman I know said that she liked looking at beauty. A maker of pictures, she liked beauty found in painting, carvings, music, food , clothes and women.


If you look at how women were shown in the visual arts through the centuries, it is clear that the idea of female beauty changes from artist to artist and century to century. Looking at movies for example, in the musicals where the camera shows pictures of pretty girls one after another, it becomes clear that most of those from the 1930's could not have gotten a job in the 1950's. The majority in the 1940's could not have made it in the 1960's.


We can see that that there is no ideal of what the perfect woman for all time in all places is.


It is annoying to realize that what the “Woman’s Magazines” have been saying is true. Beauty is health. Health is beauty. That is why we look at the Olympics. A lot of good looking fit people doing remarkable things.

It is also clear that different events produce different body types. Divers look different than swimmers. Runners of short races look different that runners of marathons. But except for the largest of the weight lifters, like sumo wrestlers, they all look good.


Robert Graves wrote about The White Goddess where he maintained that everywhere there was a myth of the white goddess. This work had been associated with the beauty of white women. But I asked, “How come no African sculpture ever looked like Marilyn Monroe?”


I enjoy looking at all attractive women, unless there is too much of them. But like every body, there is a certain kind of woman that will make me turn my head. This may built in. I'm told that what attracts all men is an hour glass shape. That waist to hips relationship.


On several occasions, years apart, while visiting a chess buddy an old friend of his stopped by and those two reminisced about

a Latina who was so stunning that on a mid-town Manhattan corner, she stopped traffic! I would liked to have seen that.

Or her rather. Or both.