The City: paradise for teenage boys Rosamund Urwin London Evening Standard

"The City is often made to sound like the fantasy workplace of a
L3-year-old boy," says Rosamand Urwin. No-one complains if
you look at porn at your desk; smutty comments and silly
nicknames are encouraged; and when the day's slog is over, "your
main concern is whether your £50 notes are best used for
snorting cocaine or for tucking into lapdancers' thongs". No
surprise, then, that two women demanding £3m from the
Japanese bank Nomura for unfair dismissal report that their
breasts were referred to as "honkers" and that they were told
they "belong at home cleaning floors". The tribunal ruled that
the remarks were only "trivial" banter and Nomura was cleared
of wrongdoing. It wasn't just banter, though: it was bullying, and
women are hardly the only ones who fall victim to such trading
room taunts. If you're young, ginger, fat or foreign - in fact, if
you have any distinguishing characteristic - you'll be picked on.
"Is the City still sexist? Sure, parts of it are, but it can be
everything-else-ist too."