On physical beauty

Okay, so this past weekend, my ego got stroked like a cuddly kitten. Over the course of three days, I was told that I was gorgeous/beautiful/hot etc. by probably a good half-dozen guys. Granted, a respectable number of these were trying to get into my pants, but the words were spoken.

Here's the thing: I'm pretty sure I'm not gorgeous. Don't get me wrong, I'm plenty pretty; I'm just not about to loose a thousand ships at their mooring. But with all of the exhortations that yes, I really am beautiful, and that I would look still more beautiful with my sweater in a pile on the floor, I got to wondering: what is beauty, anyway?

This isn't one of those deep philosophical questions. I'm actually curious about current standards of female beauty. Working in the industry that I do, where cadaverous runway models are held up as the gold standard, it's not unlikely that my perception has been skewed a wee bit. So all you guys who have stumbled here in a fruitless search for Michelle Malkin naked: What makes a girl hot?

We'll make it an informal survey. Forget the Gisele Bundchens and Tyra Bankses of the world; they get paid for being hot. We're talking that girl at the bar on Friday night. What about a girl makes you walk over to the end of the bar and talk to her? Conversely, what about her makes you just sit with your friends and say, "Dude, I would totally tap that," and then your buddy says, "Dude, I did tap that," and then you say, "Dude, you're so full of shit," and he says, "Dude, I'm not," and then your other friend says, "Dude, that's my sister, dude," and then you shut up and drink your PBR.

Throw your answers down in the comments section below.