In 1980, we got assigned to the embassy in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. While my late wife was awaiting full-time employment, she was assigned to survey commercial businesses to determine cost of living indexes. Since women can’t drive, I had to chauffeur her around. We went into one lingerie shop and the male Pakistani clerk was only too happy to show her “some lovely lace panties that had just arrived from Italy.”
And since they can’t be in the company of an unrelated man, there can’t be a bus service to take them to work.
A good friend of mine worked at Aramco for a while in 1977 or so. Upon arrival, the Saudi customs people went through his wife’s glamour mags and carefully covered up every photo of a woman baring arms, legs or torso with a black Magic Marker. She got to keep the marked-up mags. It was hilarious and pathetic.