You'd have been better off by the sea, Roses, studying the strutting promenading males taking the sea-edge walk in their hundreds, but I think what stands out
is the hairiness of the legs rather than any bandiness. They do seem to have a habit of scratching themselves as they walk, too, though maybe it's just for reassurance. My own lovely Italian husband is from the far north, very tall and blond - and very straight-legged. Of course the blond has turned to silver now, but plenty of it.
What I most enjoy about Italian male-watching is conversations on street corners. Those arm-waving movements have me in fits, and each gesture has a meaning, some quite rude. Ah, I'm feeling quite nostalgic.