Among the players in the O.J. Simpson murder trial, Faye Resnick stands out as a particularly beguiling figure. She was Nicole Simpson's best friend and an eyewitness to her dramatic and tragic relationship with Simpson. She is also a beautiful woman who celebrates her personal strength and womanhood for Contributing Photographer Stephen Wayda. In Faye Takes the Stand, Resnick sits down for a long, frank talk with former Los Angeles prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi. Read it and you'll never think the same about California justice. (The illustration of the interview is by Anita Kunz.)
Playboy (ISSN 0032-1478), March 1997, Volume 44, Number 3. Published monthly by Playboy, 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Subscriptions: U.S., $29.97 for 12 issues. 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 (212-261-5000); Chicago: 680 North Lake Shore Drive. Chicago 60611 (312-751-8000); West Coast: SD Media, 2001 Wilshire Boulevard, Suite 200, Santa Monica, CA 90403 (310-264-7575); Southeast: Coleman & Bentz, Inc., 4651 Roswell Road Ne, Atlanta, GA 30342 (404-256-3800); Boston: Northeast media sales, 8 Faneuil Hall Marketplace, Boston 02109 (617-973-5050). For subscription inquiries, call 800-999-4438.
Aimless Young people hanging out at a strip mall in a town called Burnfield are the subjects of study in subUrbia (Castle Rock). Based on a hit play by Eric Bogosian and directed by Richard Linklater (of Slacker and Before Sunrise), the movie plunges its characters into a nightlong orgy of sex, envy, racism and violence. A successful rock musician named Pony (Jayce Bartok) comes home in his limo, accompanied by a snooty publicist (Parker Posey), and incites the resentment of his former buddies. Giovanni Ribissi, Nicky Katt and Steve Zahn portray the threesome, whose principal recreation seems to be raising hell around the mall's convenience store, which is owned by a Pakistani couple. This grim slice of life set in a typical middle-class suburb reflects no optimism. Author Bogosian himself states: "If it's the American dream, why does it feel so fucked up?" Well put and well acted, subUrbia is good work. [rating]3 bunnies[/rating]
Over the telephone from Paris, English-born Kristin Scott Thomas, 35, faces her future as a major movie star with mixed feelings. "Hype terrifies me," she says. After being bombarded with plaudits for her performance in The English Patient as the glamorous British wife caught up in a torrid affair with Ralph Fiennes, she's back in the Left Bank home she shares with her French husband, a well-known obstetrician, and their two children. "I'm just painting walls and digging in my garden. The rest is too much to cope with. You're tempted to think: Hey, I must be brilliant. Seriously, of course, it's great. My character, Katharine, is probably the person I'd most like to be, despite the movie's gory ending."
When they say "Cut to the chase," they mean "Get to the good part." So we have. Bullitt (1968): Steve McQueen's bumpy ride through San Francisco became the model for stomach-churning, roller-coaster car chases. No wonder the editing took an Oscar.
When it comes to offduty entertainment, Yaphet Kotto, who plays the intense Lieutenant Al Giardello on NBC's Homicide, is a pushover for the supernatural. "There's a whole world out there that never makes it to the big screen," Kotto says, adding that TV's Sightings series is a winner in his house. But when Kotto suffers from UFO overload, he feeds the VCR gumshoe flicks. "I like Basil Rathbone's Sherlock Holmes," he says, "and I'm also a fan of the Thin Man movies. Nick and Nora have become friends of mine." Kotto's most prized video find is somewhat offbeat: a documentary about Punta del Este, the Uruguayan resort town. "You're going to think I'm mad," he says, "but whenever I watch it, I lock the door and draw the blinds. This place is heaven on earth, and no one wants you to know it exists." Until now.
It's not as good as The Godfather, but it's not as long, either. HBO's acclaimed mob drama Gotti stars Armand Assante as the titular don of the Gambino crime family. The story traces Gotti's rise, as well as his penchant for breaking Mafia codes--which led to his undoing. Anthony Quinn and William Forsythe costar.... On the heels of Independence Day and Mars Attacks! comes the granddaddy of alien-invasion pictures, The War of the Worlds, reissued by Paramount for $9.95. The 1953 Martian chronicle may not have the bells, whistles and morphs of today's flying-saucer blockbusters, but the effects won an Academy Award--and, boy, do those Fifties screenplays love to crank up the tension. Show it to your kids and gloat.
Before she began cranking out costume dramas, Winona Ryder was the ultimate screen teen. Now Lumivision has captured her darkest--and funniest--foray into adolescent angst on disc. Heathers (1989) features Ryder as the only non-Heather in a hot high school clique; with rebel classmate Christian Slater, she bumps off her bitchy friends. The disc features audio commentary by director Michael Lehmann, original trailers, remastered sound and a beautiful digital transfer. Speaking of nice-looking, Shannen Doherty co-stars.
LovefestOf the Month Who says that love doesn't come cheap? MGM/UA Home Video's batch of budget romances ($14.95 each) is perfect for the parsimonious paramour. Included: Rob Roy (Scots in love), The Cutting Edge (love on the ice rink), The Goodbye Girl (actor falls for perpetual jiltee), The Lover (teen girl comes of age in Twenties Vietnam), Rich in Love (retiree's passion reboots after wife splits) and Moonstruck (love, opera, Cher and la famiglia in Brooklyn). Enjoy.
Helen Gurley Brown, the longtime editor of Cosmopolitan, has a talent for looking foolish. CNN recently captured her being hoisted aloft by a group of Fabio wannabes. There she was, at age 74, giggling like a schoolgirl. Even her physical appearance is cartoonish. So wispy-thin she appears frail, Brown looks like the poster girl for the Anti-Plastic Surgery League--her ultratight skin a warning against having one face-lift too many. And when she spoke, things got worse. She preached her gospel of good sex in a breathless voice that merely solidified her reputation as the silliest magazine editor in America.
Sun Ra's The Singles (Evidence) provides the final proof that the great jazz orchestra leader truly was a master of space, time and doo-wop. These ultra-rare sides include pure rock-and-roll vocal harmony, straight-up Chicago blues, horror-movie organ improvisations and some of the wildest avant-jazz pieces ever put on 45s. Every bit of it is marked by craft without condescension, vision without pretense, and sublime wit. These sides have a greater claim than anything else I've heard to being the real origins of jazz rock and experimentalism in mainstream pop music.
OK, I admit I just wanted to see the title Burn in Hell Fuckers (Bong Load Records) by Lutefisk on the venerated Playboy Rockmeter. But it's actually a terrific punk rock album. Lutefisk has found a balance between the Ramones and Flipper that didn't exist before. The band marries a sense for pop melodies with a nihilistic contempt for everything. The result is funny and oddly life-affirming. The band's voices work whether they are screaming or harmonizing, even when they're deliberately out of tune and inane. And it's performed with such a cathartically snotty attitude that you can listen a lot more than once. Choruses such as "Burn and rob, burn and rob/Rock and roll makes me want to burn and rob" make it unlikely Lutefisk will see heavy rotation on MTV, so you'll have to buy it to hear it.
Joni Mitchell would allow her record company to release her greatest-hits album only if she could also put out a separate LP that documented the ones that got away. Both Hits and Misses (Reprise) are crammed with delightfully odd choices. Various songs could easily have wound up on either collection, which is probably Mitchell's point. For 30 years, she has produced a body of work that rarely sounds dated. Each song is intimate and musically gorgeous. Hits is my favorite simply because the songs seem woven together.
Art Blakey remains the model for jazz drummers leading their own bands, thanks in part to Louis Hayes and Ray Appleton. Both men embrace Blakey's hard-bop ethos on new CDs for the stylish little Sharp 9 label (888-742-7723). The versatile and well-traveled Hayes leads a quintet of younger musicians on Louis At Large, especially notable for the debut of Riley Mullins, a brash newcomer on trumpet. On Appleton's Killer Ray Rides Again, the splashy and inventive drummer pilots a sextet of mostly veterans, starring saxist Charles McPherson. It's a lively reminder that in the right hands, the jazz of the Fifties and Sixties is still alive.
Tony toni tone, one of the best and most consistent bands in black pop, is back with a strong retro-soul album, House of Music (Mercury). This trio writes witty, melodic songs and plays crisply in a style that pays homage to the past while still sounding contemporary. The set is full of gems: Thinking of You, a Memphis-style groove, and the soul ballad Still a Man are two of the best. In the current soul revival, the Tonys hold a central place.
In France, where African émigrés energize the most enthusiastic and affluent Afro-pop audience in the world, the voice of 28-year-old Oumou Sangare, from Mali, has been a sensation for most of this decade. And in her homeland, this impassioned opponent of polygamy and arranged marriage is so popular that politicians pay lip service to her feminist ideas. Onstage, Sangare is simultaneously regal and outgoing, sexy and sisterly, traditional and emancipated. On record, she's easier to understand once you've learned her story and glanced over the lyrics of Worotan (World Circuit, c/o Rounder, One Camp Street, Cambridge, MA 02140). It's clear that she's a progressive in music as well as in politics. The interlocking rhythms, the unforced synthesis of African and American instruments and the occasional horn charts from James Brown alumnus Pee Wee Ellis add up to some fresh funk.
Marshall Chapman's Love Slave(Margaritaville/Island) is certainly the year's most misnamed record. There are some funny songs here, and the title track is one of them, but there's no indication that Chapman belongs to anyone but herself. The best of her songs--A Mystery to Me, If I Can't Have You, In the Fullness of Time--deliver the shock of recognition that comes when intimate stories and grown-up emotional situations hit home. Musically, the tough country-rock blend picks up where Chapman's live album left off last year. Imagine Mary Chapin Carpenter with another ten years' experience, more blues and grit in her singing and the wit to rip off the Who at the end of an antigun song, and you'll get the picture. Chapman, long one of Nashville's best renegade songwriters, has become the kind of performer her fans trust to bring them both good times and insight.
Don't know much about History Department: A wire service report last fall told the story of an archaeological dig that led researchers to conclude that Roman and medieval musicians bent notes on wooden pipes and bone flutes to achieve off-pitch sounds--not unlike the ones made by modern jazz and blues musicians. Maybe Fred Flintstone wasn't as primitive as we thought.
The unadorned harmonies of the Louvin Brothers are some of the most influential sounds in country music history. Charlie and Ira Louvin were a fire-and-brimstone team. The reissues of the late-Fifties Tragic Songs of Life and Satan is Real (Capitol) are filled with simplistic beauty. The Kneeling Drunkard's Plea and Are You Afraid to Die reveal the brothers' singing style: There was a ceiling to Charlie's range, so Ira would cue in on a high lead and Charlie would drop under on low harmony. That became the Louvin Brothers' trademark, a style that has influenced Emmylou Harris, Gram Parsons and Bruce Springsteen.
The Audiobook business continues to thrive, sometimes in unexpected places. Publishers Weekly recently reported a boom in audio sales at truck stops that has boosted the industry in the past 12 months. Truck drivers seem to enjoy science fiction, Westerns, mysteries and Rush Limbaugh. One company allows truckers to rent audios at one location and drop them off at locations farther along their routes.
About two months ago my girlfriend persuaded me to let one of her friends move in with us while she worked out some financial problems. It wasn't so bad at first, but after a month we were all in one another's way. I think they sensed my irritation, because a week ago I came home to find them cooking a huge dinner for me. They watched me eat and then led me by the hand into the bedroom. My girlfriend started undressing me while her friend sat on the edge of the bed and watched. After I was stripped down to my boxers, my girlfriend told me to lie down on the bed, and she kissed my neck and face. Her friend then began to massage my feet and legs and told me how much she appreciated being able to stay in our apartment. I sensed what was coming but could hardly believe it. While her friend (our friend?) tickled my balls through my shorts, my girlfriend took out my cock and began giving me head. When I was good and aroused, she mounted me. It felt incredible, especially since her friend toyed with my balls the entire time. She also teased me by licking her lips and winking at me while kissing my girlfriend's back. It was quite an experience. Two days later my girlfriend went to the store and left her friend and me alone. I couldn't help but feel awkward because I wanted to have sex with her. How do I imply something like that but leave room to back away if it doesn't sit well?--S.B., Indianapolis, Indiana
Susie Bright, co-author of "Nothing but the Girl," author of "Susie Bright's Sexual Reality: A Virtual Sex World Reader" and editor of "The Best American Erotica" and the "Herotica" series, is a one-woman sex industry.
"Run, don't walk, to the first library you can find and read what they're trying to keep out of your eyes. Read what they're trying to keep out of your brains. Because that's exactly what you need to know."
Clint Eastwood is walking around Mission Ranch, the quiet, secluded property he owns only a few miles from his home in Carmel, California. He purchased the ranch on the Monterey Peninsula in 1986 when businessmen planned to turn the 22-acre site into a condominium development. He enjoys talking about the history of the place--it was one of the first California dairies and, during World War Two, an Army and Navy officers' club with a rollicking reputation.
In 1987, when she was shooting her centerfold at Playboy Studio West, Sharry Konopski met a young woman named Ellen Stohl, who was also posing for the magazine. Sharry was overwhelmed by Ellen, a spunky paraplegic who had been injured in an auto accident. "I was really shy," she recalls, "and Ellen's personality was so forceful that she kind of scared me." After their pictorials appeared, the two young women went their separate ways. Sharry returned to rural Washington State, where she married and had two children (Spencer, now eight, and Siera, six). In 1995, a tragedy similar to Ellen's struck Sharry. On what she describes as "a really bad April Fool's Day," she was driving home from work when three deer suddenly appeared in the road. She swerved, hit loose gravel and rolled her Mustang.
Whether it's awkward and rushed or sleepy and languid, lovemaking at the beginning of a relationship can provide exciting moments and vivid memories. As two people grow more accustomed to each other's bodies and more practied in pleasing each other, they establish an intimacy that will inform all future sex acts. Call it the primal bond.
Hollywood environmental zealot Ed Begley Jr. drew snickers from status-conscious L.A. drivers for more than 25 years as he motored about in glorified golf carts. But the rich and famous aren't laughing at battery-powered cars anymore, and neither is the man on the street. General Motors' new EV1 electric vehicle has become the four-wheel stopper on Rodeo Drive. Not only is the EV1 great for the environment (electric cars are said to be about 95 percent less polluting than vehicles with an internal combustion engine), it's also fun to drive. Styled dramatically low to the ground, it accelerates to 60 mph in 8.5 seconds, about the same time it takes a BMW 318i. GM won't sell you an EV1, but the car is available with a 36-month no-money-down lease that ranges from $480 to $640 at 24 Saturn dealers in Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix and Tucson. You'll also need a home charger that leases for an additional $50 a month; installation is around $1000. But there is a bonus: The $33,995 EV1 comes with a ten percent federal tax credit and $5000 in tax incentives for four counties in California and financial incentives up to $2100 in Arizona. Carefully driven, the EV1 is ideal for almost anyone's daily urban commute. A full charge gives you about 70 miles of city driving or 90 miles on the highway. Top speed is an electronically limited 80 mph. To operate the car, just punch in your private code on a keypad near the driver's door. Once inside, tap your code again on a second pad located on the center console, hit a switch labeled run and put the shift in drive. The EV1 starts with a high-pitched whine. Pulling away, you won't hear any shifts because the car is direct-drive. Its transverse-mounted electric motor runs through a reduction gear that in turn drives the front wheels. On the road the car's uncanny silence enables you to hear all sorts of things, such as the rustle of tires and the hiss of the wind, that are masked by the engine in a conventional automobile. In fact, it's a bit like flying in a glider. Your initial experience behind the wheel will probably be affected by the EV1's relatively short range, and you'll find yourself constantly glancing at the battery charge gauge as it ticks off how many miles you have left. Feather-footing to try to extend the range is a common first reaction and not unlike trying to beat your personal record on a video game. Then you give in and enjoy the EV1's nimble handling and acceleration. Remember, there are no valves, pistons, spark plugs, gas engine, transmission or starter to go wrong. There's no exhaust system (and no expensive catalytic converter) to replace. Oil for its electric motor and gear drive lasts for life, so there are no oil or filter changes. But, the EV1 does have ABS brakes; traction control; dual air bags; power windows, locks and mirrors; and an AM/FM/cassette/CD stereo. Why the long wait for an effective electric car? The problem has been battery technology. Few buyers wanted to lumber around town in a vehicle weighed down with a ton of lead-acid batteries. So when the federal government approached carmakers a few years ago to inquire about feasible electric (text concluded on page 166)Charge It(continued from page 89) vehicles, the manufacturers stalled. It took stringent new laws, first passed in California and then in several New England states, to create incentive. Automobile manufacturers were told that to sell cars in California in the year 2003, they would have to guarantee that ten percent would be zero-emissions vehicles. That got the companies' attention, and soon they were developing concepts and jointly working on improved battery technology.
In our July 1964 issue, André Maurois paid homage to French actress Brigitte Bardot, who had redefined screen sensuality in Roger Vadim's And God Created Woman (1956). Maurois' essay, BB: The Sex Kitten Grows Up, described Bar-dot as "a petite, sulky, tousled beast of the jungle" who "lived in the nude" and embodied "eroticism uncorrupted." Bardot would appear in six Playboy pictorials. This shot, from Maurois' story, was taken on the set of A Very Private Affair.
Oh Look, there's a falling star!" says Jennifer Miriam. It's a clear, cold midnight in Austin, Texas and we have goose bumps as we walk along the lake, not because of the temperature but because Jennifer was talking about finding her soul mate at the precise moment the heavenly light caught her eye. She considers it a sign.
In theory, skiing is a winter activity. Snow is the essential medium, after all. But that doesn't mean you have to endure the icy blasts of January to carve a perfect turn or receive a glorious faceshot of powder. Spring is skiing's second season, a time to celebrate the return of the sun and rejoice in the best snow of the year. In fact, March and April tend to be the snowiest months for many resorts. Add to that lower liftticket prices and plenty of wild events, and you have great reasons to keep your skis and snowboards waxed and ready for action. For some, that means swooshing down a slalom course in full business attire in the annual GMC Truck Briefcase Race at Loon Mountain in New Hampshire. For others, it means wearing much less, in bikini races at Telluride, Colorado. Whatever your pleasure, we've covered it in this guide to spring flings on the slopes.
Glamourcon is a cosmos of its own. It's easy to find: Enter the Los Angeles Airport Marriott and take the escalator down. The mirrored hall below is a whole other world, terra in flagrante. This is the party the pin-up world throws once a year, the biggest collection of nude photos this side of Charlie Sheen's wallet. This is where a girl doffs her fur coat outside the Imperial Ballroom. She wears a few strips of leather underneath. She stretches, poses and asks you to take her picture.
A techno fantasy has come true. The two most compelling media of our time--the television and the computer--are uniting. It makes sense, of course, that electronics manufacturers would look to the tube as the best way to launch the mainstream into cyberspace. After all, 110 million households are already equipped with at least one television set (compared with one third that number for computers). And let's face it, TVs are friendly; computers are not. No matter how many wild Web sites you visit or CD-ROMs you spin, sitting in front of a PC feels like you're at the office rather than at home having fun. The first stab at mating a TV screen and a computer monitor came from Gateway 2000, which simply disguised a Pentium computer for living room placement. Its Destination system, a 31-inch Mitsubishi monitor and Gateway PC introduced last spring, is priced at $3000 and up, putting it in the same--often unattainable--league as multimedia computers. Enter WebTV Networks. This California-based company has teamed up with Sony and Philips Magnavox to introduce TV-top boxes that cost less than $350 yet let you go Net nuts for only $19.95 per month. The hardware, similar in size to a standard cable box, includes a 33.6 modem and everything you need, including a line splitter, to connect the WebTV unit to your television set and phone jack. If you have call waiting, the system software will even inform you of incoming calls, pause while you talk and then resume Internet service right where you left off. We tested the Sony INT-W100 and liked both the resolution and the speed at which Web pages appeared on-screen. You can choose among small, medium and large type (we suggest the last on a screen of 27 inches or larger), and have the option of making an S-Video connection. (If your TV allows for this, do it. You'll enjoy even better picture clarity.) Both the Sony and Philips Magnavox systems let you send and receive e-mail as well as keep an address book of contacts. But that, and a list of up to 36 favorite Web sites, are the only items the first-generation machines are able to store. Neither the Sony system nor the Philips Magnavox system offers harddrive space, which means you can't download games or other materials from the Net. And while the WebTV browser can do most of the things Netscape Navigator and Microsoft Internet Explorer can do, it won't allow you to participate in newsgroups or chats, or view full-motion video clips--yet. Upgrades are in the works, according to a spokesman for WebTV, but only software ones, all of which will be handled online at the WebTV site. Initial shortcomings aside, the true beauty of surfing the Internet through your TV set becomes clear when you're actually watching television. While tuned to The X-Files, for example, you can spend the commercial breaks at the Official X-Files Home Page, getting the lowdown on missed episodes or updates on recurring characters. Or maybe you're watching the news and learn that United has slashed its international fares. Time to grab your credit card, head to one of the many travel sites on the Net and book a flight to London. And think of the possibilities with picture-in-picture. During March Madness, you can move the game into PIP mode at halftime (so you can still catch the cheerleaders) and then dial up espn.com to check the other teams' standings. A word to the wise: The WebTV systems come with a remote control for navigating the Net; however, you can avoid this tedious method of surfing by spending an extra $100 on a wireless keyboard. The Sony model we used is a perfect laptop size and features a selection of smart onetouch function keys, including go to, which automatically adds the "http://www" and ".com" extensions to Web addresses. Down the road, Smart Cards slots on the Sony and Philips Magnavox systems will let you make purchases off the Net using computerized cards loaded with money from your bank account. As WebTV catches on, you can be sure other companies will jump on the convergence bandwagon. Sega has already introduced a $200 28.8 modem peripheral, called Net Link, for its Sega Saturn game system. Zenith, RCA, Samsung, Sharp and Mitsubishi have announced plans to introduce TV sets capable of accessing the Internet. And cable companies across the country are scrambling to introduce upgraded systems that will combine digital television programming with high-speed Internet service. All of these options mean serious Spud City for us. Those 500 channels we've been waiting for...well, they just turned into 5 million. Hang ten on that.
Last year Michael Jordan led the Chicago Bulls to their fourth NBA title in six years. (They lost when he played baseball.) He won his eighth scoring title and his fourth MVP award. Earth's most famous jock also starred in "Space Jam," becoming the only human to work with both Bugs Bunny and Dennis Rodman. He did it with ease and antigrav grace, as usual. For Jordan, superhuman feats are no sweat. So why does he need Michael Jordan cologne?
When I was asked by Playboy to do this pictorial," says Faye Resnick, "I did a lot of soul-searching. Ultimately, I decided it would be a liberating experience. Because of what I've been through in the past two and a half years I had lost my sense of joy. I'd become isolated and disconnected spiritually. The experience proved to be even more incredible than I expected--it was my first taste of freedom," she adds, referring to her unsolicited transition from anonymity.
Turns out it's true: What goes around comes around. Cuff links were popular in the Twenties, the Fifties and the Sixties, according to Gene Klompus, president of the National Cuff Link Society, but they were consigned to the bottom drawer in the casual Seventies. Now cuff links are back. Shirtmakers are offering the largest variety of French-cuff styles ever, and fashion designers such as Ralph Lauren are including shirts with French cuffs in their spring wardrobes. When picking a pair of links, you can play it safe with enamel art deco or silver-and-crystal looks, or express yourself by sporting various types that represent your interests, such as sterling silver or gold cigars or corkscrews. The latter ones are available with wine bottle studs.