In the beginning was the table, the typewriter, the man. As we were preparing this 40th anniversary issue of Playboy, we came across a familiar photo of Hef at work on the first issue. What a surprise to realize we were seeing the entire Playboy empire, and that it fit into one black-and-white snapshot.
Playboy, (ISSN 0032-1478), January 1994, Volume 41, Number 1. Published Monthly by Playboy, 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Subscriptions: $29.97 for 12 issues. U.S. Canada. $43.97 for 12 issues. All other foreign, $45 U.S. currency only. For new and renewal orders and change of address, send to Playboy subscriptions, P.O. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. Please allow 6-8 weeks for processing. For change of address, send new and old addresses and allow 45 days for change. Postmaster: Send form 3579 to Playboy, P.O. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. Advertising: New York: 730 Fifth Avenue, New York 10019; Chicago: 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago 60611; West Coast: 9242 Beverly Boulevard, Beverly Hills, CA 90210; Metropolitan Publishers Representatives. Inc.; Atlanta: 3017 Piedmont Road NE, Suite 100, Atlanta, GA 30305; Miami: 2500 South Dixie Highway, Miami, FL 33133; Tampa: 3016 Mason Place, Tampa, FL 33629.
The Song Remains The Same Department: According to German researchers who tested 160 audiophiles, only one in 40 could distinguish between CD and vinyl sound sources. Two music psychologists at the Hannover Conservatory alternately played identical classical and jazz recordings from a CD player and a record player. The test group included sales staff from record stores, audio-component designers, music students, professional musicians, music lovers who frequently attend concerts and people with no special interest in music. Even the price of the equipment didn't seem to make much difference. So buy a boxed set, or dust off your old LPs--just listen up.
Entertaining is hardly the word for Naked (Fine Line), by British writer-director Mike Leigh, whose newest social slice-of-life turns out to be memorable but about as much fun as a spinal tap. Even Leigh's ironic High Hopes of several seasons ago seems happy-go-lucky compared with Naked. The opening rape scene in a Manchester alley is our introduction to Johnny, the vitriolic antihero played by David Thewlis, whose stunning performance won him a best actor award at this past year's Cannes Film Festival. Off to London in a stolen car, Johnny does the town as an angry young man with a slash-and-burn view of England. He moves in with a former girlfriend, screws her strung-out roommate, debates a philosophical night watchman, plays malicious sex games with a drunken woman and gets beaten up a couple of times--events all accompanied by his acidulous running commentary on the fucked-up world around him. Lesley Sharp, Katrin Cartlidge and Claire Skinner are perfect as some of the women stung by Johnny's wounding truths, while Greg Cruttwell checks in as a well-heeled misogynist proving that lewd malice is not confined to the lower classes. Like it or simply gape at it and be glad you're somewhere else, Naked strips away any notion that modern England is either orderly, just or jolly.
Back in her hometown of Chicago to star in a John Hughes comedy called Baby's Day Out,Lara Flynn Boyle, at 23, was up to her neck in family values. "I play a new mother, and someone kidnaps my ninemonth-old baby." She's learned just what people mean about scene-stealing infants on camera. "Babies tend to get tired and spit up or throw up."
"You have about two hours?" asks songbird and screen wonder Julie Andrews when asked to name her favorites on tape. "I really love the older, stylish, black-and-white films, like It's a Wonderful Life, The Thin Man and On the Waterfront." Other fare that tickles the perennial pixie: Elia Kazan's Viva Zapata!, The Bishop's Wife, starring Cary Grant, and--natch--Singin' in the Rain. "I can love just one small piece of a film, and if it's moving, I feel I've gotten my money's worth. Sheer talent makes me excited. It turns me on."
Anime, the sexy (but violent) high-tech cartoons from Japan, have made it to laser. Central Park Media has released six best-selling episodes, including Roots Search, in which the sultry and psychic Moira is the only babe who can fend off an alien intruder, and The Ultimate Teacher, starring a half-cockroach, half-human who strives to become his high school's baddest bad boy. ... Those longing for good old Yankee animation needn't worry. Lumivision, in association with Cinémathèque Québécoise, has released Felix!, a two-part package honoring America's favorite feline--from his nameless debut in 1919 to his surreal antics of the Thirties. Call 800-776-LUMI. ... The Voyager Company is making sure the good old stuff never goes away. Recent old-gold releases include England's Evergreen, the 1934 backstage musical from Rodgers and Hart starring Jessie Matthews--a.k.a. the British Ginger Rogers; and The Emperor Jones, the 1933 screen adaptation of Eugene O'Neill's fiery rebuke of segregation. Paul Robeson soars.
People used to come to New York looking for action. Once upon a time it was celebrated as "the city that never sleeps." Big clubs, little clubs, there was a place for every preference, including some you have probably never thought of. People came from all over the world to live that scene, if only for a few nights. To rub some strange elbows, to take a walk on the wild side.
Richard Avedon's An Autobiography (Random House) is the most stunning gift book of the season. For this volume, he has drawn from almost 50 years of images, ranging from the South in the Sixties to Vietnam and including the great artists and celebrities of our time. This book is Avedon's bid for a place in the history of photography.
Winston is always nervous before a date, and today is no exception. It is New Year's Day, January 1, 2034, and Winston knows what that means: Melissa will be bringing her girlfriends over to the house for a long day of women's college football games on television.
It was a brouhaha of major proportions. "Flowers!" ranted Cleo. "He sent me flowers for my birthday, goddamn it! You get flowers from your agent, not your boyfriend. It's bad enough he's always out of town."
My husband and I have a wonderful, imaginative sex life. He loves to watch me masturbate, and he'll try anything I ask. I need to know if it is normal to ask him to use a vibrator on me during oral sex. I have the most erotic fantasy of him using a vibrator and biting my nipples at the moment I start to come. It's just that I'm afraid to ask.--C. F, Edmonds, Washington.
In 1893, historian Frederick Jackson Turner declared the American frontier dead. Turner meant that there was no more wilderness--that no matter where you went you'd find somebody else. But his essay argued that the frontier, the original promise of land and opportunity, had indelibly defined the American character, both morally and materially.
Every day on the streets of Los Angeles, gunfire rings out. Gangs wage war. There is robbery and rape on a scale that would horrify most Europeans; murder and mayhem pass virtually unremarked. Now we learn that, confronted with this cavalcade of crime, the Los Angeles Police Department has chosen to spend countless dollars and man-hours to hunt down a 27-year-old pediatrician's daughter named Heidi. No doubt the battle-scarred people of South Central are sleeping more soundly.
The conservative Capital Research Center published a book by Cliff Kincaid titled The Playboy Foundation: A Mirror of the Culture? We were flattered by the attention. Then we had a look. Willa Ann Johnson had gathered a group of researchers and scholars under the rubric of the CRC and had given them a mission to challenge "the progressive ideology of the public-interest culture." In the past, other CRC targets have included General Mills, American Express and AT&T.
In September 1993 the U.S. government buried the tooth of an American soldier. The tooth, along with a set of dog tags, was all that turned up after a search of the Laotian hill where the soldier's helicopter crashed decades ago.
In the last decade of the 20th century, there came upon the land the dread and terrible Late-Night Wars. Network was pitted against network, band against band, comic against comic. The wars aren't over yet, but the probable victor has emerged from the unholy stench of battle: David Letterman, new lord of late night and heir apparent to the title of National Comedian.
It isn't quite right to begin an exploration by urging the reader to feel free to disregard your findings. But prudence beckons, and it beckons with special force when the subject is women and the question posed is, What have we learned about them? Correction, What have I learned about them? Moreover, in discussing women, the inquiry is necessarily comparative: How does the woman differ from the man with respect to--you name it--intelligence, valor, loyalty, tenacity, stoicism? How reliable is her sense of humor, her sexual self-esteem, her capacity to condole, to inspire, to inspirit?
Without You," Hugh M. Hefner once said while addressing a Playmate reunion assembled before him on the Mansion lawn, "I'd have a literary magazine." Thankfully, he created a publishing phenomenon that embraced gorgeous women and good reading. Which makes our job for this anniversary issue--honoring 32 of the hundreds of Playmates to grace our centerfolds--difficult yet delicious. We did our best in selecting those who made the most-lasting impressions--and we asked these archetypal Playmates to share the memories that they experienced as America's sexiest women. Think of it as Playboy's family album.
A few select women have achieved the status of legends and Playboy has been fortunate to publish photos of them. First there was Marilyn Monroe. Her classic red-plush calendar pose helped launch an empire--this one--when we showcased it in our premiere issue in December 1953. She was featured in four subsequent issues and retains a timeless place in our gallery of beautiful women.
Jayne Mansfield, you'll pardon the expression, once got us busted. The City of Chicago contended that our June 1963 picture of her (nude in bed with actor Tom Noonan sitting on the edge) was obscene. The jury disagreed. Called the poor man's Marilyn Monroe, she was sassier, brassier and--like some tropical fruit--voluptuous in an overripe way, which was exactly her charm.
Frank Zappa said that rock and roll arrived in 1955 with the opening sequence of The Blackboard Jungle. When the titles flashed on the screen, Bill Haley and the Comets started blasting "one, two, three o'clock, four o'clock rock" on the soundtrack. Rock and roll had been around for a few years by then, but as Zappa--who was 15 at the time--pointed out, no one had ever heard it that loud before. It was a qualitative difference. Isn't playing rock and roll this loud in a movie theater against the law? That the movie was about juvenile delinquency made it perfect.
In the Spring of 1953, I was leading the secret life of Walter Mitty: I was the mild-mannered 27-year-old circulation director for Children's Activities who imagined himself editor and publisher of a sophisticated men's magazine called Stag Party. In the office at Children's Activities, the editorial staff, mostly middle-aged women, oohed and aahed at my snapshots of baby Christie while I fantasized about sexy Sweetheart of the Month pictorials.
Pinup art. The phrase has become quaint, like "cheesecake" and "sweater girl"--souvenirs of World War Two, that strange time of mingled innocence and atrocity. "Skin magazines" have retired the pinup girl; insofar as she survives, she belongs to the photographer. After all, the lens doesn't lie: The girl was really there, in her partial or total undress. Yet there is a sensuality and poignancy to drawn and painted images of women that the unblinking, unthinking camera cannot match. Each line, each curve and highlight has passed through the eyes and hands of the painter.
A generation of young men who came of age in the late fifties would swear that when God Created Woman (the title of the hot French movie that introduced her to the world), he was thinking of Brigitte. We agree. Our six pictorials with Mademoiselle Bardot culminated with a 1975 shoot that celebrated her 40th birthday. "I am a wild animal," she told us at the time. "No one can stop me. Life is so short."
Late one evening this past June, Playboy Managing Photo Editor Jeff Cohen announced "the odyssey is over" in a memo to the corps of soldiers that helped him pull off Playboy's 40th Anniversary Playmate Search. "We've packed our banners and unloaded the cameras. We have interviewed 5000 women in 25 cities, taken more than 13,000 Polaroids, caught 132 flights and ordered room service 147 times. And, boy, did we get an eyeful." In a three-month-and-one-day spin, Cohen and company crisscrossed two countries--from Des Moines to Manhattan, Miami to Phoenix, and all the way up to Vancouver--in search of one woman who would pitch camp in the center pages of Playboy's 40th anniversary issue. We saw the expected as well as the unexpected: a magician, kindergarten teachers, construction workers--even the crew chief of a fighter jet. The youngest of our applicants turned 18 the day of her interview; the oldest was a 53-year-old grandmother of five. And although all their stories were different, we kept hearing a recurring theme: "I've always respected Playboy and its portrayal of women," said Cynthia Brown of southern California. "Only the most beautiful women pose for Playboy," echoed Wendy Wilcoxon from Georgia. The woman who ultimately walked away with the blue ribbon appears somewhere in the following pages, just preceding her centerfold feature. See if you can spot her--and have fun looking.
<p>Anyone who doesn't believe in fairy tales should meet Anna-Marie Goddard. Ten years ago, our 40th Anniversary Playmate was not smiling from the pages of a glossy magazine. She was minding cattle in the barn behind her home in Ysbrechtum, Holland, population 300. Those cows used to peer through the windows of the house each morning, waiting for the girl who milked them to wake. And young Anna-Marie, then 13, didn't mind. She lived in Friesland, a northern province of the Netherlands, not thrill-a-minute Amsterdam. Anna-Marie knew about faraway places, of course. She loved American movies and joked to her mother about getting married in Las Vegas someday. But Frisians tend to stay in Friesland, a place so suspicious of the wider world that its legendary hero was Grŭtte Pier, a Teuton who chopped the heads off outsiders who dared to venture north. "Even today most Frisians aren't very cosmopolitan," says the one who this month becomes the most famous Ysbrechtumian ever. "I don't know why I was different, but I was. And it was always cloudy in Friesland. It rained all the time, and the people were so conservative. I had to get out, to see more of the world." Anna-Marie sent her picture to a Belgian fashion magazine when she turned 17 and her career was launched. A little scared, she took a train to Ghent, Belgium, then moved on to modeling jobs in Madrid, Milan and Munich. In Munich she met American screenwriter and model Collin Goddard. It was--what else?--"love at first sight," says Anna-Marie. So they ran off to get married. Where? "In Las Vegas, at a place called the Little Chapel of the West. My mother couldn't believe it. My joke had come true." Living happily thereafter in a house overlooking the Pacific in southern California, and working throughout the world, she caught the eye of Playboy's West Coast Photo Editor, Marilyn Grabowski. Anna-Marie's test shots convinced us that this no-longer-provincial Dutch girl was something special. Perhaps her European roots made her seem utterly, naturally sensual. "We are not so uncomfortable about sex as you are in America," Anna-Marie says, smiling. "Europeans are more open. Even in conservative Friesland, people don't worry about nudity and sex. And because we're a more sexually free society, there's not this kind of crazy curiosity. Even as kids, we know all about sex, so it seems normal to us. A teenage girl goes to the doctor and gets birth control pills. That's what I did when I was 16. It doesn't mean you have to jump into bed with a boy right away." We saw the uninhibited Anna-Marie as someone who was extraordinary enough to be even more than Playmate of the Month. As our 40th Anniversary Playmate, a title she "hoped for so hard I was staying up at night thinking about it," Anna-Marie Goddard represents the Playboy ideal. "I am honored and excited," she says. So is her mother back home. Mom's reaction to the news that her daughter would pose for Playboy was, "Did you get to meet Hugh Hefner?" The proud daughter responded, "Yes, and he says hello."</p>
My own work was finished, a book six years in the making finally done, and I slipped back from the present into incomplete images and unresolved memories of the past. It was in a way a special voyage of my own, made without leaving my apartment, a trip with its own melancholia. A new president had just been inaugurated, and members of the media, caught up in their apparent need to give instant report cards, were filled with endless details cataloging his successes and failures, even when nothing he had yet done was worthy of being called a success or a failure. On television there were daily reports of the anarchy and destruction being wrought in what was once Yugoslavia. But I was elsewhere, spun backward in time and caught once again in the tangles of Vietnam that I thought I had left behind long ago. My trip had begun with, of all things, a book, We Were Soldiers Once ... and Young, a powerful description of the battle of the Ia Drang Valley, which took place in November 1965 in Vietnam's central highlands. The Ia Drang was arguably the most important battle of Vietnam, significantly more important than even Tet, I think. It was a moment when the two sides not only fought with great determination and courage but in the process also (continued on page 168) Requiem (continued from page 161) defined themselves and much of the strategy for the rest of the war.
Ursula Andress appeared in our pages in June 1965, two years after she wore that bikini in Dr. No, the first James Bond movie. That she arrived in the company of Agent 007 seemed perfect: Bond was the quintessential Sixties Playboy, cool and sophisticated, and Ursula was his ideal partner. Cool and sophisticated herself, the irresistible actress set the pattern for 007's long string of sexy sidekicks. Naturally, we got rid of the bikini here and in Ursula's four other pictorials.
For quarterback leaders-of-the-pack Boomer Esiason, Jim Kelly, Troy Aikman and Warren Moon, dressing for holiday night games is as natural as throwing a 50-yard touchdown pass. The tux styles we've chosen for them appeal to regulars on the black-tie circuit--guys who go formal at least three times a year and don't want to look like any other penguin. If you qualify, keep in mind that the best fabric for year-round use is lightweight wool. Whether you choose a double-breasted jacket (stick with four or six buttons if you're under six feet tall) or a single-breasted one, look for black satin, silk or faille lapels, and trousers with side bands made of the same fabric accent. And keep accessories simple: black self-tie bow ties (no clipons, please), black or subtly patterned cummerbunds, vests and elegant stud-and-cuff-link sets. Now you should be ready to ring in the new year right. Hike!
She became famous as a 10, playing lucky Dudley Moore's dream come true, but we thought Bo Derek was a 12, at least. We featured her five times in four years, starting in 1980. Bo's role as the most breathtaking Jane ever in a Tarzan movie inspired our September 1981 Tarzan and Bo pictorial. Bo is back with a video-only mystery called Woman of Desire. Guess who she plays?
"I worked at a place called Lima, Ohio. When you travel in these towns there's nothing to do during the day, they're very boring. Like, all right, the first day you go through the five and dime, that's one day shot, all right. The next day, you go to the park, you see the cannon, and you've had it, that's it. Forget it. Lending library at the drugstore: two Fannie Hurst novels, Pearl Buck. Yeah, doesn't make it. At night in these towns, you step out of the club and you don't see anything but stars, beautiful stars, and one Socony gas station. You know. And those guys who work nights just don't swing, somehow."
To basketball fans he is simply Shaq--the 7'1", 300-pound center for the Orlando Magic. To moviegoers this spring he will be Neon Bordeaux, a strapping playground hoops phenom who poses a moral dilemma for college coach Nick Nolte in "Blue Chips." But in the soothed minds of the NBA's moguls, Shaquille O'Neal is the future of his sport, a 21-year-old miracle in size 20EEE shoes--the man who filled the void left by the retirement of Magic Johnson and Larry Bird and who is being counted on to keep fans flocking to arenas now that Michael Jordan has repaired to the links for good. Crowds hold their breath when O'Neal approaches the hoop; they roar when he slams the ball through the net and swings on the rim. Twice last season he achieved his goal of pulling down the backboard and the reinforced stanchion that supports it--a feat only he has accomplished.
S he's going broke, she's been known to be difficult on movie sets, her luck's a little thin, but Kim Basinger is still one of Hollywood's most bankable actresses. She has often said her appearance in our February 1983 pictorial helped launch her career. Since then, she has tempted Robert Redford in The Natural, played Bruce Willis' Blind Date and Dan Aykroyd's sexy companion from outer space in My Stepmother is an Alien, and turned on the Caped Crusader as Vicki Vale in Batman.
Madonna is the ultimate woman on top. In his essay in our March 1991 issue, Michael Kelly identified her as the avatar of "slut feminism," using her sexuality as a ploy for power over men. Landmarks of her reign include our September 1985 and July 1992 pictorials, and her monument to exhibitionism: Sex.
It's the photograph that lingers, one that he was reluctant to release to The Wall Street Journal. It was as if he feared the picture would reveal a shameful secret. In it, Vincent Foster--a handsome man by any standard--appears grim, unsmiling, guarded. He does not project the image of a man who is getting a great deal out of life. No question hindsight makes a contribution, but Foster's smile, even at a sunnier time--as he strolls, with the Clintons, through the lobby of his beloved Little Rock Repertory Theater--seems tight and controlled. Who is Vincent Foster? the Journal asked in a critical piece that appeared this past summer, a short time before the deputy White House counsel--and the president's personal lawyer--took his own life. Many speculate that it was the drumbeat of attacks from the Journal itself, so highly thought of in Arkansas corporate circles, that helped lead Foster to his decision. The attacks were certainly on his mind when he wrote his list of grievances. "Wall Street Journal editors lie without consequence."
Only in America could a woman become a star by exposing letters of the alphabet on television. Vanna White's silent presence on Wheel of Fortune left us speechless. As Newsweek opined, "Vanna is Mary Poppins in Joan Collins' clothing." So much the better when she shed that clothing for our May 1987 pictorial (shot in 1982, before her star turn on TV).
Success and failure are easily measured in economics. Success occurs when most individuals enjoy rising real wages. Conversely, falling real wages equal failure. America is a rich country because most of its history is a history of success. That history led President John F. Kennedy to observe that "a rising tide lifts all boats." If he could engineer an economy that grew, it was assumed that most Americans would enjoy higher real standards of living. Starting in the mid-Seventies, however, that logic suffered a setback.
Since Cindy Crawford's career exploded in 1986, the leggy brunette, probably the best-looking woman of her generation, has graced the covers of more than 200 magazines, including our July 1988 issue. The accompanying pictorial was photographed by lensman and video director Herb Ritts in Hawaii, which served as the perfect backdrop to the supermodel's volcanic sensuality. We like to watch her on MTV's House of Style, and her best-selling exercise video gets us all worked up.
In Basic Instinct, Sharon Stone's flash was seen round the world, and her performance as a femme fatale catapulted her to stardom, Playboy has been with her all the way. Sharon's July 1990 pictorial heralded her arrival, and her December 1992 Playboy Interview recorded her view from the pinnacle of success: "I've learned to get what I want by being direct and fearless."
Playboy expands your purchasing power by providing a list of retailers and manufacturers you can contact for information on where to find merchandise appearing in this month's issue. To buy the apparel and equipment shown on pages 38, 164--167 and 277, check the listings below to find the stores nearest you.
Forget those pre-Castro Havanas that have sold at auctions for $100 apiece. There's a more affordable wave of old tobacco currently hitting the humidors of connoisseurs. Known as vintage cigars, these specially selected smokes hail from the Dominican Republic, Honduras and Jamaica, three countries similar to Cuba in climate. Just as wine has good and bad years, the tobacco in these hand-rolled cigars is the best the world has seen in decades. Aged in cedar vaults for three months to about a year, hand-rolled vintage cigars emerge with a tremendous depth of taste and aroma rarely experienced since the Cuban embargo began in the early Sixties. Light one up by the fireside, settle back with a fine single malt and enjoy.