The first time I heard David Sedaris coming across my radio on NPR doing "Santaland Diaries" I nearly drove my car off the road, I was laughing so hard.
I would love to hear Gloria Steinem reading "A Bunny's Tale," which is available on the internet in written form, but it's not easy on the eyes, small font.
Her take is every bit as funny as Sedaris's and pre dated his.
Her carefully constructed new identity to infiltrate the Playboy Club with a new name and story about her background. The application required three references but Steinem couldn't swing three fake references so she created a story--she'd been waitressing in Europe so she had only one work reference from a magazine editor in the U.S..
It turns out they weren't much interested in reading letters of references at the Playboy club. What they cared about was how you looked and Gloria got swept right in, given her looks.
They took Polaroid photos of her in a Bunny outfit, that was her ticket to the job.
More obstacles arise she hadn't planned for: The Club demands a birth certificate and her Social Security card, which, of course would be in the name "Gloria Steinem," not her nom de guerre, "Marie Ochs."
But until the deadline for the documents arrives, she can squeeze into her Bunny outfit and work the scene.
Then they sent her home with the Bunny Bible, otherwise known as the employees' manual in which they made it abundantly clear no Bunny was allowed to "date" (i.e. have sexual intercourse with) any customer; nor was any Bunny allowed to pimp for another Bunny.
Hugh Hefner was hyper aware that the Playboy Club was presumed to be a high class brothel and he expected investigators, city cops, FBI to be all over his club so he wanted Bunnies to be pure as the driven snow, when it came to interactions with club customers. No trafficking in the Playboy Clubs. They were there to enhance his empire not to sell sex on an individual basis.
He explicitly warned all new Bunnies that he'd hired private detectives to pose as customers seeking sexual favors and they would approach the Bunnies, and they had better not respond.
Steinem is at her best describing her training: How to lean forward over a table without having your breasts fall out of the costume. (A straight back is the trick.)
And the camaraderie of the Bunnies is touching and pathetic When the head mother Bunny finds herself short an over 21 Bunny to man the hat check after midnight (when the 18 year old Bunnies had to go home) Steinem saves the day by filling in even though her shoes did not match her Bunny suit, putting her at risk for incurring demerits.
Hefner did help change the American tendency toward blue nose repressiveness concerning sex to an attitude that sex is not dirty, but healthy, not necessarily an expression of undying devotion but sometimes just a moment's pleasure, which a woman might enjoy as much as a man.
Seen with 21st century eyes, Hefner is something of a sad joke, with his silk "smoking jacket" his wonky pipe and his black silk pajamas. He does not look like any kind of real man--he doesn't really work. He looks like some pimply creep out of "American Graffiti" trying to look hip, but looking nerdy instead.
Anyone who ever saw "Apocalypse Now" will know the role "Playboy" magazine played in the psyche of the American male in the mid twentieth century, but that was then.
People grow. Men even can grow up.
I would love to hear Gloria Steinem reading "A Bunny's Tale," which is available on the internet in written form, but it's not easy on the eyes, small font.
Her take is every bit as funny as Sedaris's and pre dated his.
 |
| I think you got yourself a job, Honey. |
Her carefully constructed new identity to infiltrate the Playboy Club with a new name and story about her background. The application required three references but Steinem couldn't swing three fake references so she created a story--she'd been waitressing in Europe so she had only one work reference from a magazine editor in the U.S..
It turns out they weren't much interested in reading letters of references at the Playboy club. What they cared about was how you looked and Gloria got swept right in, given her looks.
They took Polaroid photos of her in a Bunny outfit, that was her ticket to the job.
 |
| Who needs references? |
But until the deadline for the documents arrives, she can squeeze into her Bunny outfit and work the scene.
Then they sent her home with the Bunny Bible, otherwise known as the employees' manual in which they made it abundantly clear no Bunny was allowed to "date" (i.e. have sexual intercourse with) any customer; nor was any Bunny allowed to pimp for another Bunny.
Hugh Hefner was hyper aware that the Playboy Club was presumed to be a high class brothel and he expected investigators, city cops, FBI to be all over his club so he wanted Bunnies to be pure as the driven snow, when it came to interactions with club customers. No trafficking in the Playboy Clubs. They were there to enhance his empire not to sell sex on an individual basis.
 |
| And I can write, too. |
He explicitly warned all new Bunnies that he'd hired private detectives to pose as customers seeking sexual favors and they would approach the Bunnies, and they had better not respond.
Steinem is at her best describing her training: How to lean forward over a table without having your breasts fall out of the costume. (A straight back is the trick.)
And the camaraderie of the Bunnies is touching and pathetic When the head mother Bunny finds herself short an over 21 Bunny to man the hat check after midnight (when the 18 year old Bunnies had to go home) Steinem saves the day by filling in even though her shoes did not match her Bunny suit, putting her at risk for incurring demerits.
Hefner did help change the American tendency toward blue nose repressiveness concerning sex to an attitude that sex is not dirty, but healthy, not necessarily an expression of undying devotion but sometimes just a moment's pleasure, which a woman might enjoy as much as a man.
 |
| Nothing wrong with a little sex appeal. |
Seen with 21st century eyes, Hefner is something of a sad joke, with his silk "smoking jacket" his wonky pipe and his black silk pajamas. He does not look like any kind of real man--he doesn't really work. He looks like some pimply creep out of "American Graffiti" trying to look hip, but looking nerdy instead.
Anyone who ever saw "Apocalypse Now" will know the role "Playboy" magazine played in the psyche of the American male in the mid twentieth century, but that was then.
People grow. Men even can grow up.
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