College Isn't a place, it's an attitude. By the time you're done with this issue, our back-to-school spectacular, you'll be invigorated by collegiate spirit. First an update: These days if a sweater has letters on it, chances are they spell out the name Tommy Hilfiger, the designer most likely to succeed in clothing the world. From Harlem to Hollywood, from Greenwich Village to Greenwich, Connecticut, everyone loves Tommy "Hip-Hop" Hilfiger. He's the guy who built a multimillion-dollar company by taking classic American clothes, adding a breakbeat and selling them to rappers and yuppies alike. In this month's Playboy Interview by Alec Foege, Hilfiger talks about how he turned on to acid and flared out with a chain of bell-bottom stores in the Seventies. Now he counts Mick Jagger and David Bowie among his friends. Our own Back to Campus Fashion predicts slick new sweaters and great jackets. Leaving the subject of clothes, the women in our Girls of the Big Ten pictorial all rate an 11 (the number of schools in that Midwestern conference). The Big Ten was actually the scene of our first college Girls of. . . feature. But who's counting?
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It's thanksgiving in Maine, and writer-director Bart Freundlich brings mom, dad, brothers, sisters and significant others home for the holiday in The Myth of Fingerprints (Sony Classics). Practically everyone on the premises makes love a lot, but there's little joy in the air in this absorbing drama about a handsome, upscale, screwed-up family that looks unnervingly average. Blythe Danner and Roy Scheider play the parents, gentle Lena and remote, hypercritical Hal. Julianne Moore, Laurel Holloman, Noah Wyle and Michael Vartan are the siblings, with Hope Davis and Arija Bareikis as the brothers' love interests. Wondering aloud why he's not fonder of his live-in girlfriend (Davis), brother Jake (Vartan) asks his sophisticated sister Mia (Moore): "Do you think you have to have had a healthy family life to have a successful relationship?" To which Mia replies wryly: "I hope not." That pretty well sums up the tone and theme of Fingerprints (the title refers to everyone's constantly changing identity), which never fully explains whether the underlying cause of the discontent is early emotional abuse or just New England reserve. Regardless of the reason, the film limns a fascinating portrait of modern American Gothic angst. [rating]3 bunnies[/rating]
She's been seen all over the nation as America's first lady, married to President Harrison Ford in Air Force One. But the political angle isn't new to beautiful Wendy Crewson. She met her husband, actor Michael Murphy, on the set of Tanner '88, the Robert Altman cable TV series in which Murphy had the title role as a presidential candidate. They now have two small children and live "far out of the loop," in the San Francisco Bay Area. The Canadian-born Crewson relishes getting away to the family's vacation retreat in Kennebunkport, Maine, but notes: "This used to be a fine little fishing village, but when George Bush was elected, there went the neighborhood. We now have 101 T-shirt shops and it'll never be the same.
Comedian Milton Berle recently launched the luxury gaming quarterly Milton ("We Drink, We Smoke, We Gamble"), but that hasn't kept him away from his VCR. Berle says he likes to revisit the all-star comedy romp It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. "It's funny, it's clean and it's one of the greatest films around--and not just because I'm in it." Berle also enjoys the vid biography of director John Huston, The Man, the Movies, the Maverick. "I love all Huston's films. He was a brilliant director and a terrific guy." But here's a little surprise: Although Uncle Miltie was notorious for doing his stand-up shtick in women's clothing, he isn't partial to contemporary cross-dressing cinema, such as Tootsie and Mrs. Doubtfire. "I did drag for fun and comedy," he says, "not just to make a point." So there.
Imagine if Muddy Waters and Howlin' Wolf had never left sleepy Mississippi for the bright lights of Chicago and Memphis. Their music would probably sound a lot like that of Junior Kimbrough, now in his late 60s. Kimbrough has been playing his haunting version of electric blues in his own Mississippi juke joint for decades, and it's a revelation. His barbed-wire guitar runs are mesmerizing. Kimbrough's intense songs don't charge toward some climax, like urban blues--they hang suspended in the sensuality of a Southern night. His latest album, Most Things Haven't Worked Out (Fat Possum/Capricorn), is easily his best. This is blues as trance music, sharing the same hypnotic quality as African and Sufi music.
Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff are two of the most underappreciated figures in R&B. As label heads, songwriters and producers, Gamble and Huff were the architects of the Philly sound. The Philly Sound: Kenny Gamble, Leon Huff & the Story of Brotherly Love (Epic/Legacy) is a three-disc celebration of the men and their musical movement.
Most English progressive rock from the Seventies sounded pretentious. King Crimson was the exception. The first version of the band, which produced the epic In the Court of the Crimson King (featuring Greg Lake, Ian McDonald and Robert Fripp), lasted only a year. Epitaph (Discipline Global Mobile) presents four live sets from the band's original lineup that prove they weren't just full of classical gas. The performances are as ferocious and daring as punk at its height, but with a sound like a mix of Ornette Coleman, Jimi Hendrix and Igor Stravinsky. (DGM, P.O. Box 5282, Beverly Hills, CA 90209).
Luna is Dean Wareham's attempt to make genuine pop music out of the Velvet Underground tributes of his Eighties band, Galaxie 500. And on 1995's Penthouse and on Pop Tent (Elektra), Ware-ham's enjoyable melodies have filled out, with crucial support from the kind of cushy guitar drones the Velvets pioneered 30 years ago. Wareham drawls his casually literate lyrics untainted by cocktail retro. This is dinner music for the rock-and-roll age.
Most of God's Property From Kirk Franklin's Nu Nation (B-Rite) is conventional gospel. At his best, as on Sweet Spirit, Franklin sounds like great gospelers Professor Alex Bradford and Archie Brown-lee. But Franklin isn't much of a preacher, and the choir isn't ingenious. Nevertheless, Franklin has made a breakthrough. Avoiding the banalities of Christian rappers, Stomp and You Are the Only One incorporate the vocabulary of hip-hop and dancehall. Stomp is built around George Clinton's One Nation Under a Groove, which is about as audacious as claiming a cloven hoof for a Christian symbol. I doubt Franklin has the imagination to push this merger--but that doesn't mean someone else won't.
On Under the Covers (Reprise) Dwight Yoakam recalls his days spent listening to the AM radio in Columbus, Ohio. This collection of 11 cover songs (and one Jimmie Rodgers surprise track) includes a honky-tonk remake of Wynn Stewart's Playboy, Sonny and Cher's Baby Don't Go and a Sammy Davis Jr.-style send-up of the Kinks' Tired of Waiting for You.
Arto Lindsay, the Brazilian-raised New York mainstay, long ago invented the guitar-noise music known as skronk. With the Ambitious Lovers and now solo, Lindsay moved on to something sweeter and sexier--Brazil's airy, rhythmically intricate bossa nova. Last year's O Corpo Sutil/The Subtle Body bridged the barrier between English and Portuguese while playing the style relatively straight. The new Mondo Civilizado (Bar/None, P.O. Box 1704, Hoboken, NJ 07030) mixes in drum-and-bass, Brazilian percussion and covers of Prince and Al Green. The results are more accessible.
With hundreds of albums to his credit, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan is widely regarded as the finest singer of Qawwali, or Sufi devotional music. So the selection of four songs ranging in length from 12 minutes to 25 on The Greatest Hits of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan (Shanachie) is arbitrary and vaguely out of context. It's odd that Khan's collaborations with Peter Gabriel, Massive Attack and Eddie Vedder (which are his greatest hits in the West) are missing. So just forget the album title, sit cross-legged on the floor and groove. Along with a small ensemble singing backup and playing percussion, accordion and the occasional stringed instrument, Khan takes you deep into the unconscious. You don't have to be Sufi to appreciate it.
The Cicadas (Warner) suggests that Nashville vet Rodney Crowell really yearns to be Nick Lowe. That's the impression you get from tracks such as When Losers Rule the World and We Want Everything. But then the red-dirt roots of Crowell, guitarist Steuart Smith and the rest of the band assert themselves. No one has ever sung such a convincing version of Tobacco Road. And Our Little Town, a songwriting collaboration between Crowell and mentor Guy Clark, brings it all back home. Though their ambitions are modest, I think the Cicadas' songs are far more successful than John Fogerty's current bombast.
Traveling through Vietnam while listening to Miles Davis' Sketches of Spain inspired Michael Blake to create his own musical travelog. On Kingdom of Champa (Intuition) Blake--best known for playing tenor in the Lounge Lizards--blends East with West and ancient with modern. Leading a group that includes the avant-garde guitarist David Tronzo, Blake's vision bristles with color, textures and mystery.
The world's greatest living cellist, Mstislav Rostropovich, has dramatically expanded the range of his instrument. With Rostropovich: The Russian Years, EMI Classics compiles a definitive account of his work from 1950 to 1974. This 13-CD set (mostly from Soviet radio archives) is remarkable, and is essential for any lover of serious music.
Elwood Blues Returns Department: James Brown, Aretha and members of the original Blues Brothers band join Dan Aykroyd in Blues Brothers 2000 to help Sister Mary Stigmata once again. Praise the Lord and pass the popcorn.
Having mined contemporary sex for all its joy, Dr. Alex Comfort has now turned to the Middle Ages. The Illustrated Koka Shastra: Medieval Indian Writings on Love Based on the Kama Sutra (Simon & Schuster), translated by Dr. Comfort, explores all matters sexual, from setting the mood to explicit technique. Accompanied by 120 sensual images, this manual for lovers is hotter than curry.
Are you tired of fiction? Check out real action heroes the Navy Seals. Writers Richard Marcinko and John Weisman were the first to call them Rogue Warriors and make a buck off their exploits. But Roy Boehm was their muse. In Boehm's memoir, First Seal (Pocket), with Charles Sasser, he tells his story in the kick-ass style that made him a Navy legend. After the 1941 attack on Peal Harbor, he dove for corpses trapped aboard the sunken USS Arizona. Then he fought in the Pacific, Cuba and Vietnam. In 1961 he was asked to select the first team of Seals and train them in his own image. The Seal myth grew in Vietnam, and their encounters with the enemy are graphically described by Barry Enoch with Gregory Walker in Teammates: Seals at War (Pocket). Good to Go (Morrow), by Harry Constance and Randall Fuerst, describes the special-ops adventures of Seal Team Two in Vietnam. But it's the story of those who volunteered for the secret force code-named Studies and Observations Group--told for the first time in SOG: The Secret Wars of America's Commandos in Vietnam (Simon & Schuster), by John Plaster--that is the kicker no Sylvester Stallone movie can rival.
Cruising the booths at Book Expo America this year, we noticed that comics have moved beyond the Sunday paper and onto best-seller lists (think Dilbert). New collections celebrating the genre include Tijuana Bibles: Art and Wit in America's Forbidden Funnies, 1930s-1950s (Simon & Schuster), by Bob Adelman, in which Mae West and Popeye's pal Wimpy get it on. R. Crumb is back with a new edition of Carload o' Comics (Kitchen Sink Press/Bélier Press), a selection of strips from 1968 to 1976. Graphic novels such as those in Neil Gaiman's Sandman series (Vertigo) and Kingdom Come (DC Comics), by Mark Waid and Alex Ross with Todd Klein, featuring an imaginative superhero Armageddon, are available at comicbook stores. The X-Files Collection (Topps), by Stefan Petrucha and Charles Adlard, is even more bizarre than the television show. The future may belong to Art (Maus) Spiegelman's successors: Both Fax From Sarajevo (Dark Horse), by Joe Kubert, and A Jew in Communist Prague (Nantier Beall Minoust-chine), by Vittorio Giardino, are riding the recent wave of socially conscious comics.
Spenser and Hawk have company. The first book in a new detective series by Robert B. Parker, Night Passage (Putnam), introduces Police Chief Jesse Stone, a former LAPD homicide detective who escaped the rat race for a small town in Massachusetts. The pace is slower, but Parker proves he can still write airtight plots with patches of realistic, perfectly pitched dialogue. New cases appear for familiar gumshoes: Edna Buchanan's Margin of Error (Hyperion) sticks with her alter ego, Miami crime reporter Britt Montero. In this fifth outing, Montero protects a movie star from a dangerous and clever stalker and finds herself romantically involved with him--against her better judgment. Country singer turned fictional private eye Kinky Friedman meanders through his latest investigation with a bottle of Jameson in hand. In Road Kill (Simon & Schuster), the Kinkster, with his usual carefree panache, travels to Texas to help out old pal Willie Nelson.
My husband and I enjoy reading erotic stories together in bed. The women in these tales always seem to have wet panties the moment a man walks into the room. When my husband and I make love, it usually takes at least ten to 15 minutes of touching before I'm wet enough for intercourse. Is this normal?--R.T., Buffalo, New York
I majored in political science in college and minored, you might say, in a few select gentlemen of the faculty. These academic pursuits weren't about grade-digging, nor was I trolling for a Mrs. degree. But bedding a limited number of upstanding scholars turned out to be one of the ace moves of my early educational career. Certainly it was a more enlightening extracurricular activity than, say, the science fiction film series or the volleyball league.
Emotions ran high on a Friday in 1991 at an academic conference in Milwaukee. A distinguished professor of English and comparative literature at the University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee declared to all that "graduate students are my sexual preference." It was a joke.
If you know nothing else about him, you know his name. Tommy Hilfiger has made sure of that. Any fashion designer can slap his name on the seat of a pair of jeans or embroider a tiny yet tasteful insignia on the pocket of his shirts. But Tommy Hilfiger wants more. A lot more.
From the outside, the house looks like it might be the home of a double-income family. It's painted white and has a well-kept lawn that harbors a few piles of freshly raked leaves. Inside, the living room is furnished with a large wraparound couch, an entertainment center with a 19-inch TV and a kidney-shaped glass coffee table. If not for the row of sorority paddles that hangs on a wall, you might never know it's the crash pad of eight college students at the University of Illinois. The most obvious signs of life are in the messy bedrooms. Michelle, a freckly, svelte blonde and the queen of serious relationships, had sex with Brad in her bed today. Oddly, hers is the only one that's made. Papers, textbooks and clothes are strewn about. Bookshelves and tables are covered with group photographs from sorority functions. A picture in Kat's room shows her and two other girls in a tipsy pyramid. "I don't even remember being in that picture. I think I puked that night," she says, laughing. Kat is the resident smartass. She's in lust with Jack, a guy she tends bar with. Although they've been "shacking" at least once a week for the past six months, he wants nothing more than a sexual relationship.
You do not want to work with Cristina Barone. Wanting the doctor herself is another matter entirely: Men of all sorts make passes at Cristina, a 28-year-old clinical psychologist. But few of us would want her job--evaluating and counseling criminals in a Los Angeles jail.
Its the pregame drink-up in Carbondale, Illinois. The keg has been tapped, and the game--as played by the Southern Illinois University's Men's Rugby Club on the eve of the season's last home match--is fast, formless and, to an outsider, apparently unencumbered by rules, save one: Your dick must touch skin. Dick tag. The idea is to penis-poke an unsuspecting teammate, preferably in public, ideally while he chats up a girl. No one announces the game has begun. But as awareness dawns, a certain knowing posture spreads through the room. Players take to resting exposed hands on their heads, well above the crotch zone, an effective defense until the "it" guy launches himself off some piece of furniture, pelvis first, fly open, pink steel puppy on the loose. Or until a player--uninitiated or too wasted to care--sits down.
By the time a date winds down back at your dorm, the only fashion issue left to worry about is the proverbial "Boxers or briefs?" Trust us--she wouldn't be in your room if you had failed her image test. She has already scoped your package from top to butt. What's the lesson? One bad jacket can ruin your whole semester. No more grungy flannel overshirts or Eighties bomber jackets. Today's outerwear is about length--at the least, your car coat should reach your hips. Think functional, too, since some of your best dates will include a late-night stroll across campus or an afternoon at the stadium. V-neck sweaters are back in a big way, especially when they are tinted with retro horizontal stripes. Blue is the jeans color of choice (the darker, the better), but you'll be faced with a variety of options when it comes to the cut. Extra credit: If you want your girlfriend to keep returning to your room, you should also know how to throw together a decent outfit in case she asks you to a party hosted by the dean. Good clothes are all about feeling rich without necessarily having any money.
At 22, Miss October is ready to be noticed. Layla Harvest Roberts grew up in Los Angeles and in Mexico City, where her mother was a famed model. Layla modeled here and in Europe, and last year she made a brief splash on "Baywatch." Now movie producers are after her. We cornered her for an intimate talk in Los Angeles.
The beautiful princess frequently wandered through the woods searching for an enchanted frog who might actually be a handsome prince under a spell. One day she found an exceptionally ugly frog. Picking it up, she asked, "Are you a prince under a spell? If I kiss you, will you turn back into a prince?"
Plenty of out-of-work college football coaches would like to wring Gary Barnett's neck. When Barnett turned moribund Northwestern into a winner, college presidents, athletic directors and alums took a closer look at coaches with losing programs: "If they can become conference champs and media darlings, what's our problem?"
"If I told people my fantasies," Joan Severance once confessed to us, "they'd lock me away." Not a chance--the world needs as many Joans as it can get. The free-spirited siren from Texas played a wicked seductress on TV's Wiseguy, then appeared in movies opposite, among others, Mel Gibson and Hulk Hogan. She graced Playboy's pages twice. This portrait ran in November 1992, just as Joan was heating up Zalman King's Showtime scorcher, Red Shoe Diaries.
Admit it, you've hummed along with Hanson to MMMBop and sung the words to the Spice Girls' Wannabe, two summer songs that filled the airwaves even before summer started. Catchy as this music is, we don't think it's the next big thing. Electronic music has no legs, despite the Chemical Brothers and Moby. Disco reared its head for a minute, too (thanks to the return of the Bee Gees), but it won't last. So what will last? That's for you to tell us. As you can see, we've moved the Poll into our college issue, but that means some guesswork is involved. The easy choices--U2, Wu-Tang Clan, LeAnn Rimes, Herbie Hancock--are covered, but in some categories you'll find only a write-in spot. We've added a new category, Single, so you can reward that humming. We've done away with Veejay, but we've beefed up our Hall of Fame. So get ready, crank up something old--like the Wallflowers--or something newer--like Matchbox 20--and get going. You'll find the Poll again on Playboy's Web site (www.playboy.com) if your mouse is mightier than your pen.
Many writers have tried to put actress Téa Leoni into words. The 31-year-old star of NBC's "The Naked Truth" (now in its third season) has been called "a combination of sex appeal and banana peel"; "gorgeous and game, the kind of girl a Philip Roth character would go crazy for"; "Lucille Ball meets Sharon Stone" and a "screwball heroine for the Nineties." Though all accurate, they still fail to capture the whole package. It's not just that she's sexy, though she is. It's not just that she knows her way around a golf course, though that's true, too. Leoni's indescribability is what has everyone hooked. Leoni has played in TV shows as diverse as the pilot for "Angels '88" (a revived "Charlie's Angels") and the sitcom "Flying Blind," as well as in movies such as "Bad Boys," "Flirting With Disaster" and the forthcoming "Deep Impact," yet showbiz may not know quite what to do with her. But everyone, clearly, wants to do more. We sent Contributing Editor David Rensin--who once played a round of golf with the actress and received good advice about his swing--to see what Leoni had to say for herself. Says Rensin, "Any time she needs a golfing companion, I'm available."
Unfortunately, the best part of a college education is not included in the tuition. The facts of life are learned not in a classroom but in a college bar. Whether it was your first date, your first drink or your first college sex, a bar probably figured in prominently. And why not? If college is a new home for four years, then the college bar is a home away from a home away from home. Long after the memories of Catullus and calculus fade, the images of the college bar burn vividly. What makes a great college bar? Atmosphere. Friendly service. Low prices.
Football, basketball and an inability to count are what the Big Ten is all about. After all, as most NCAA fans know, this collegiate juggernaut is actually made up of 11 institutions, each one scrappier than the next on the gridiron and on the hardwood. But that's just sports. When it comes to the conference's prettier, off-the-field stars, the Big Ten deserves a big 10. Winding its way through eight Midwestern states, Big Ten country guards the Great Lakes with its sprawling, woodsy campuses. When we last visited the heartland conference, in October 1991, it had just welcomed its 11th sister, Penn State. At the time we wondered if the Nittany Lions' arrival would drive up the division's property value--not to mention its beauty factor. Indeed it did. But six years later, we thought we'd take another look. We sent Contributing Photographers David Chan and David Mecey to recapture the Big Ten's unforgettable scenery. How did they fare? According to Senior Photography Editor Jim Larson, our two Davids were coed magnets: "More than 675 girls tried out, including about 100 each at Indiana and Michigan. And you wouldn't believe how many students made references to Pamela Anderson and Jenny McCarthy, saying, 'I want to be just like them.'" Lucky for us, many were. Turn the page.
Below is a list of retailers and manufacturers you can contact for information on where to find this month's merchandise. To buy the apparel and equipment shown on pages 22, 32, 36, 84-89, 116-117 and 179, check the listings below to find the stores nearest you.
A wool blanket and a flask of scotch remain the twin indispensables for stadium survival. But pint-size portable TVs to catch instant replays have become almost as popular as pints. (The one by Sony pictured here has a 2.2" screen.) Plus, there are now ultraclear walkie-talkies for keeping in touch with the gang still tailgating outside. (See Wired: "New Wave Radios" on page 32 for more information on this format, which has a surprising range for the price.) The weather-resistant binoculars and waterproof Advanced Photo System camera shown below are tough guys designed to brave the nastiest elements. We've even included a Cordura Plus backpack with leather appointments and room to stash all your stuff--plus a built-in seat for back support.