A Couple Of Months Ago, we made a big thing out of the fact that a pretty Playmate works right here among us in the shape (no pun intended) of subscription superviser Janet Pilgrim. Actually, now that we come to think of it, Janet was not the first of our circle to appear as a model in our pages. On several occasions, we saw no reason to look farther afield than the Playboy Building for suitably photogenic people.
Playboy is published monthly by the HMH Publishing Co., Inc., 11 E. Superior, Chicago 11, Illinois. Postage must accompany all manuscripts and drawings submitted if they are to be returned and no responsibility can be assumed for unsolicited materials. Entry as second-class matter applied for at the Post Office at Chicago, Illinois, October 14, 1954. Contents copyrighted 1955 by HMH Publishing Co., Inc., Nothing may be reprinted in whole or in part without written permission. Printed in U.S.A. Any similarity between the people and places mentioned in this magazine and any real people and places is purely coincidental.
Nothing Would Induce Me to tell the name of the happy country in which the incidents occurred that I am constrained to relate; but I see no harm in admitting that it is a free and independent state on the continent of America. This is vague enough in all conscience and can give rise to no diplomatic incident.
The Jazz Record Collector is the craziest: he's happy to hock his last clean suit for a new hunk of wax and he's likely to go for broke over a dusty original featuring some early-day sideman like Dominick LaRocca. The wise collector buys his records when they are issued, of course – and this is usually a cinch when one is concerned with material in today's cooler idiom – but there are some of us who weren't around when Earl Hines was thumping the ivories for HRS and Armstrong's Hot Five was blowing Le Jazz for Okeh. To us befalls the task, albeit pleasant, of combing assorted junk shops, attics, antique stores and grandma's cobwebbed victrola cabinets, hoping to locate a cache, or else – and this is much more sensible and equally as satisfying – settling for reissues of the early classics, waxings readily obtainable at the corner music mart.
Among us are some few who insist that the publishing business is going to the dogs – and taking most everyone right along with it, too. These public spirited folk have been busy, busy, busy "cleaning up" children's comics and now they're starting in on adult magazines and paperback books. The do-gooders have been trying (with a truly remarkable lack of success) to find some connection between books, magazines and juvenile delinquency. They're particularly concerned with some of the lurid covers on today's publications – the thinking being: junior skips to the corner confectionery for his daily supply of gumballs and there the sex and violence openly displayed on the magazine stand infects his little mind. That night, though his parents had always treated him kindly and indulged his every whim, the child sexually molests his baby sitter, garrotes the cat and burns down the family homestead.
There is nothing quite so civilized as a dry Martini. Its mixing is a precise science that only a special few ever truly master. So much misinformation has been made available on the subject that Playboy feels obliged to set the matter straight once and for all and presents here the exact formula and method required for correctly concocting this incredible cocktail.
Father Carrigan Knew Terry Dinneen as a string of a boy nearly six feet tall for all he was only seventeen, dark Irish with a snub nose, a length to his upper lip that gave him an impudent look, and such lashes to his blue eyes that the girls glanced sly and with hope when they passed him on the street. In truth, though, the lad was neither impudent nor paying attention to the girls, but serious and overly fond of reading books.
... And also for amorous, amenable, and abundant: all of which might aptly describe Anne Fleming, the stunning dance instructor who is our Playmate this month. But don't tarry here — flip the page and find your own adjectives.
We've always edited Playboy for a particular guy: sophisticated, intelligent, urban – a young man-about-town, who enjoys good, gracious living. Potential advertisers are interested in a more specific picture of a magazine's audience, however. So we commissioned an independent market research organization, Gould, Gleiss and Benn, Inc., to conduct a survey of Playboy's readership.
That liveliest of the modern arts, the art of attracting attention, has produced some strange and sensational spectacles, but few have been stranger or more sensational than the pair of pink-and-purple brainstorms recently engendered by some inspired idea men.