I’ve had a love/hate relationship with Playboy Magazine. Love to read it. Hate to go in and buy it. Really, that hasn’t presented much of a problem. Though I’ve never made an actual purchase (unless you count buying subscriptions for male friends), it’s not that hard to find copies of this magazine that is both better and worse than it’s reputation. If you have guy friends, then just look under the bed, or in the bed stand, in the bathroom cabinet (hum), or out in the garage/shop.
The first copy I saw of Playboy was back in 6th grade when a girl “borrowed” her military brother’s copy and showed everyone while the teacher was out of the class running papers. We probably all looked guilty as sin when Mrs. Hodges returned, but she was the “see, hear and speak no evil” kind of teacher who drew a check and not much else. We didn’t see much, and we didn’t get busted. It’s all good in the end.
In college, these floated out for God and the whole world to see. I wouldn’t really call this coffee table quality, but they were worth a glance when you were waiting for some guy to get his hair combed or counting his change to see how many big gulp beers he could swing for the evening. I don’t know what takes guys so long in the bathroom unless it could be the Playboy magazines.
Once time the guy college buds brought a copy to show me a girl a dead ringer for my twin. Since I didn’t get in on with my buddies (dates are different), they didn’t even know how close that one was. I laughed and told them that they didn’t know much about airbrushing, though I didn’t know how much of that went on then (and now). You could really pass a Bunny on the street and not know it.
When I got married, I found my husband’s stash in the backroom hidden under the empty boxes. Give me a break and let me read too already. If President Carter is going to interview with this magazine and confess that he lusts in his heart, then I want to read the articles. It’s not like I’ve never seen a naked woman before. I have a mirror, and I’ve had gym classes. If you’ve seen one . . . well, maybe not. But, the chassis is the same.
Anyway, I went ahead and bought the subscription for the hubbie to come right to the mailbox and all wrapped in brown paper like fish on Friday. All I can say is that if you want to get something on your neighbors, then be sure to open all the brown paper packages. That is so cliché that it just looks suspect. I’d say—Save the Trees—but I guess it makes some people feel better to have a generic looking magazine come in all brown papered up looking a might suspicious.
I’ve continued to read Playboy over the years. They have some of the best writers on the planet putting together stories on all sorts of topics—politics, money, popular culture. Some of the interviews in Playboy are hands-down better than other magazines. These are not the 30-second interviews that lack depth. The writers ask the kinds of questions that people who don’t write would be asking. The real deal. They get enough space to put together an interview or article and tell you something. Though they have more info boxes now than they used to, the articles stay solid and meaty. No half page features here.
The filler pieces are good. They lean to humor on many of the shorts. The jokes are funny and the cartoons have a bite. It’s a little like Reader’s Digest on steroids. You can just flip through and get a little here and there on content if you’re not up to thinking about a well-crafted story and reading for more than a visit to the john.
If you’re thinking I’m going to skip the pictures, well . . . no. They do have naked ladies in this magazine. I won’t go so far as to say the photos are art, but they are well done and don’t have the puke factor that some of the other male mags have. The overall feel is seductive rather than slutty. That has a lot more to do with the photographers than the girls. Hire a great photographer, and he could probably make Sandra Day O’Conner look pretty appealing.
My cousin is into the modeling scene these days. She is hot even though she somehow got the idea that she has a “pumpkin shaped head.” I don’t see a thing wrong with her head, and you sure would never criticize her head if you saw some of her pictures. Heck, you probably would not even be looking at her head. I think she may have her eye on Playboy, and I guess that’s fine if that’s what she wants. Far better to pose for Playboy than any of the other male magazines in my book.
The US is a bit uptight about nudes. Other countries are much more open to that kind of fare. In Greece, I won’t even tell you what all I saw on the shelves, and they are more conservative than some of the other European countries. Though I kept my top on at the beach (more for comfort than any other reason), it didn’t bother me to see topless girls mixed in with the guys in Speedos that probably needed to visit the gym or a weight watchers meeting.
If you enjoy really solid articles about all kinds of topics relating to our society, I can’t think of a better magazine than Playboy for a general overview. There are some niche publications that cover better on any given topic, but Playboy is the max on a general interest level.
Though I would never be asked to pose now and would not have agreed back in the days when I was skinny and busty, I don’t begrudge the young women who can make a buck (or a million) for a smile and a naked whatever. White-collar work is easier all round, but no collar naked would sure beat pink collar. Guys sell their bodies to build stuff and to push metal around, and that deck is stacked against women. Sure, a few women can hang with that and make a little above pink collar wages, but really . . . if you’re not all that smart and you’re female and beautiful, then the options are limited. Better to make your own money and call the shots than depend on a male person who may or may not treat you right.
Yes. I read Playboy. And, yes, I give this magazine by gift subscription to guys in my life. I would hope that the guys in my life enjoy the articles. If not, then they probably like the pictures, which is OK. A girl has got to make a living somehow, and I figure it’s better to make a buck on a look than a feel.
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