When I was about seven years old, the epitome of rudeness was Playboy magazine.
My friend told me that at midnight Playboy tv shows were screened. She was sleeping over one night and we stayed up to midnight, which was a major effort at that age. At 12.01 we turned on the tv, an old black and white set that took ages to turn on. There was some tv show on with a fully clothed man and woman talking. We figured that was Playboy, we’d seen it, so we went to sleep.
Another time we arranged some naked Barbie dolls (and this was in the days before Barbies had underwear permanently moulded on) on a pot plant and took a photo of them. Yes, I was a 7-year-old Barbie porno photographer. And here’s the photo.
As well as Playboy being rude, so was anything with the initials PB. There was a boy in our class whose initials were PB, so be figured he was some sort of Playboy person. Peanut Butter was also really rude.
I was once exposed to Playboy. My family went through a walk around Mt Pirongia. We were walking through some trees and attached to one was a centerfold. I went over to it and pulled it down. I remember seeing the “Playboy Party Jokes” on the back. I wanted to keep it but my parents wouldn’t let me. I went to put it back on the tree, but there were some people coming so my dad said “just leave it, let’s go”. I guess he didn’t want those people to think that he was this guy who took his family on bush walks and made his daughter stick up posters of nude chicks.
I remember sitting around asking my parents “So… who’s read Playboy?”. I was slightly shocked when my mother revealed that she had when she was staying at someone’s place and that’s all there was to read.
So those were my experiences with Playboy. In the next 15 years I became no longer obsessed with Playboy. We inherited from my grandmother some glasses with the Playboy bunny on the bottom. I read an article that Gloria Steinem wrote about her experience as an undercover reporter as a Playboy Bunny and how badly treated she was. But I’d never read a Playboy.
Then one night I thought it was about time I read a Playboy and see just how damn rude it was. I was too scared to buy one myself. I blame that on, uh, my parents?
I found a willing victim, or purchasing agent. He said he’d buy it for me. There was a bit of hilarity because he thought I wanted the Playboy for the pictures of nude people and brought, as a gift, a publication called “The Cunt Cock Connection”. As impolite as it is to reject a gift, I did so.
Anyway, after trying a few service stations we eventually found one that sold Playboy and he bought one for me. It was the May 1997 issue of Australian Playboy with Pamela Lee on the cover. After bidding my purchasing agent good night (and making sure he took CCC with him), I went back to my place and examined the magazine.
After opening the plastic bag it came in and getting through the tape on three sides, I started to read it. It was more or less like men’s magazines like Details, but with more sexual content. People writing in with questions about their sexual problems. There was a quite interesting article (ha!) with John Cleese and Jamie Lee Curtis. There was a boring short story, an article about old cars and, of course, the girls.
There was an article about the top babes on the web. Pictures of semi-naked chicks. Where’s all their pubes gone? I got a bit of a shock when I discovered that the centrefold chick was born in the same year I was (but unlike me, she cooks in the nude). It was also pretty scary seeing all the fake boobs. Implanted boobs just don’t look real.
The funniest thing was an erotic cartoon. It has been drawn showing quite explicit things, but was censored with speech bubbles. So where you originally saw some action there was instead a bubble with things like “Ohhhhh….”
All in all, it was pretty average. I think if there was a time when I would have appreciate Playboy it was back when I was 7 years old But at the age of 22, it was just another magazine, with some pictures of semi-naked chicks.