I notice that President Obama is a “guys” type. He uses the genderless collective term “guys,” to address the men and women of the White House Press Corps. At an inaugural ball he greeted his supporters, in both gowns and tuxedos, with “Thank you, guys.”

The last time I flew the Continental flight attendant addressed the planeload of passengers as “guys.” Our workout instructor at the gym calls us “guys” even though there’s not a man on a spinning bike.

“Guys,” however, does have its detractors. For some it’s too informal. For some women, even though “guys” has morphed into genderless usage it started out solidly male and still doesn’t sound inclusive. When you think about it, there is no female-based word that’s come to cover both sexes. Except for maybe “hottie.”

A university professor of gender studies avoids “guys.” Walking into her class she’s more apt to say “Hi, gang.” Another feminist professor I know says “Y’all,” but she’s from Texas. “Gang” is fine with me. So is “y’all.” And so is “guys.” If I’m at a table of all women at a restaurant I’d much rather be greeted by “Hi, guys,” than “Hi, girls.”

“Girls” has a suspicious history for those with a long-time feminist sensitivity to the politics of language. “Girls” was not an aware or respectful way to address adult women. How could you be a full grown, full bodied self-supporting family-providing tax payer and still be a girl? Girl sounded diminutive, unformed, less worthy, second sex-like. And yet it seems to have new acceptance.

There was Meryl Streep accepting her award for best actress from the Screen Actors Guild and complimenting the other nominees, saying she was “So proud of us girls.”

Meryl? “Girls”? Truth is, it depends on who’s using the term. Woman to woman, “girls” can be sweetly affectionate. Mickey Rourke couldn’t get away with calling the likes of Meryl and Kate “the girls.” On the other hand, if Meryl Streep had said she was “so proud of us guys” that would have just been confusing.

Activist and author Gloria Feldt is part of a group called Women, Girls, Ladies which blogs about issues important to feminists of different generations. Only occasionally do they fuss about the language, she said, and with each other they tend to use the terms “ladies” or “gals.”

My daughters, who are in their 30s, favor the term “ladies.” For them “ladies” doesn’t sound as fussy and entitled as it can to some of my generation. But I’d rather be a “lady” than a “girl.” The same with a friend who teaches middle school. She calls her students “ladies and gents,” and uses the collective “guys.” But no girls, no way.

Okay, but when Hillary Clinton was running for the presidential nomination she said “I’m your girl.” When the poetic, eloquent Maya Angelou endorsed Clinton she called Hillary “my girl.” When I speak of the women closest to me I call them my “girlfriends.” And when we go out to celebrate each other’s birthdays it’s a definite Girls Nights Out.

When our women’s studies group was in Guatemala a Mayan guide started out calling us “girls” and we suggested alternatives, like “women” or “mujeres.” How about “feministas”? He ended up herding us through the jungle with “Vamonos, Womans.”