My Favorite Playmate

Who is Your Favorite Playmate?

I read Playboy.
And I look at the pictures.

Every month, on one of the closing pages, a 3 ½ by 2 inch rectangle is devoted to someone’s Favorite Playmate. This “someone,” rarely someone of whom I have heard, is usually a rock star, an athlete, or an actor. So who really cares?

Okay, in June of 2008 they did ask G. Gordon Liddy. That would be worth knowing.

But even on the rare occasions of a “someone” worthy of literary attention, the space allotted does not allow for more than a glib response; something along the lines of: “Because she was my first masturbation fantasy,” or “She has real style,” whatever that means. And just like that, a chance for genuine insight has been reduced to the banal and trivial.

Each month, in the very same magazine, multiple pages are devoted to interviewing some notable personality deemed worthy of exploration. In the course of the Playboy Interview, we the readers hope to glean some insight into the inner workings of success, be it political, economic, or artistic. And yet here an opportunity for just such a revelation is squandered. For in actuality this simple question: “Who Is Your Favorite Playmate?” is the quintessential, 21st Century Rorschach test. In fact, it is exponentially better and, therefore, potentially far more revealing.

The Rorschach test, developed in 1921 by Herman Rorschach has only ten official inkblots. And yet this questionable procedure is the second most commonly used tool in personality assessment, next to the MMPI.

The Playmate Test, on the other hand, offers many more options. As of July, 2008 there have been 657 Playmates. While many assume Marylyn Monroe was the first with her initial 1953 appearance, she was, in fact, called the “Sweetheart of the Month.” As the cognoscenti will tell you, the term “Playmate” was first applied to Margie Harrison in January, 1954. Since then the “average Playmate” has measured of 35-23-35, weighed 115 pounds, and been 5’6” tall and 22 years old. 40% have been blonds.

But the fact is that like inkblots every Playmate is different, and not only in appearance. They come from different places. The have different attitudes and ambitions. And the setting for their pictorial is unique. All of these things, and more, project a distinct image, real or contrived. Each and every Centerfold sends a particular message to the not so rosa tabula of our prehistoric psyches. To answer WHO is your favorite playmate and WHY is to open a veritable window on the soul.

Here's an example.

My favorite Playmate is Marilyn Cole. Marilyn was born in Portsmouth, England in 1949. She appeared as Playmate of the Month in January, 1972. She went on, in yet another display of excellent taste on the part of Hugh Hefner, to become Playmate of the Year in 1973, the first and only Briton to ever do so. She was 5’8” tall, weighed 119 pounds, and her measurements were 36-24-35.

Of historical interest, Marilyn Cole’s centerfold was the first occurrence of unrestricted, full frontal nudity in Playboy magazine. Others had come close, but Marilyn’s was the first!

But these are not the things that make her my Favorite Playmate. In retrospect I certainly find the information interesting. But as a 20 year old boy gazing on this woman only three years my senior these details could not have been further from my mind.

Marilyn Cole’s centerfold shows an obviously shapely woman, though not petite, with long, wavy brown hair that reaches to the top of her large breasts. She has bedroom eyes over a Mona Lisa smile and stands fully facing the camera. It was before women, I think wisely, began to shave their pubic hair and hers is clearly visible below the soft, golden peach fuzz that almost sparkles across her flat stomach. Though she looks directly at the camera, in her right hand she holds a small, open book.

Equally important, however, and here is the cracking open of that soul window, is the setting. Marilyn leans, with one foot gently placed behind her on the lower shelf, against a floor to ceiling bookcase resplendent with what appear to be large and small volumes of leather bound books. She stands on what looks to be an ornately designed Persian rug that extends into the room behind her where a fire blazes in the hearth below a just visible oil paining of a woman in a red, 16th century dress sitting at a table.

Only years later did I grasp all that the picture bespoke to my malleable 20-year old mind that, from the instant I laid eyes on it, flooded me not so much with testosterone as with longing. In a life-changing flash Marilyn told me that it was alright, even desirable, to be simultaneously rich, smart, elegant, uninhibited, and overtly sexual.

Rich
My father was a Southern Baptist minister, which is the very definition of poverty, both economic and spiritual. But somewhere along the way, by means of books and films no doubt, I learned “better” was possible. I asked friends who could draw to create homes to my specifications. I saved for one nice shirt rather than five mediocre ones. And I began to realize that the best thing I could buy with a large bank balance was peace of mind.
I was smart enough to know that money can not buy happiness, but I learned from experience that you can rent it. In other words, even when I am unhappy, with money there are many more distractions available.

By 20 I already wanted to be rich. The January, 1972 issue of Playboy gave me one more good reason why. Look at what was available to the rich. Look at the kind of people who are rich. Rich can, in fact, be quite beautiful.

I went on to become rich. And with my money I have purchased, among other things, a beautiful home, leather bound books, and beautiful women. Marilyn told me it was okay and I believed her.

Smart
One way to get rich, of course, is to be smart. But it’s not the only way and not the only reason to strive for some level of informed intelligence. When it comes right down to it, I think smart is just more interesting. One of the beautiful women in my life once told me she was a “self entertaining unit.” I like that and certainly aspire to it. The more you know the more entertaining thoughts you can have. Smart people also make better conversationalists and hence are just more fun to be around. Which is not to say that smart can’t lead to annoying. But if you are genuinely smart, you learn when to flaunt it and when to just give it a rest.

One look at Marilyn and clearly it is okay to be smart. Both she and the setting project a confident air of intelligence. And to a boy already mocked because of his aspirations to academic excellence this image was equally as welcome as large breasts and exposed genitalia. I went on to become smart, even joining MENSA just because I could. MENSA, incidentally, started in England which is where Marilyn started.

Elegant
The American Heritage Dictionary, in defining elegance, uses words like: refinement, grace, beauty, and tasteful opulence. Rich and smart are not mentioned. Certainly rich and smart pave the road to elegance more swiftly and surely than poor and dumb, but my point is they are mutually exclusive.

I know wealthy, intelligent people who are far from elegant. Charlie Chaplin, on the other hand, as “The Little Tramp” came across as neither smart nor rich. But he had a certain unmistakable air of elegance about him.

Elegant is one of many options given to the rich and the smart, as well as to their mental and economic opposites. Elegant is what you do with what you have. It is a behavior. A way of being in the world. I am richer and smarter than I am elegant. I can turn it on. But I have to turn it on. Marilyn, on the other hand, exudes it. It emanates from every one of her completely exposed pores. Even amidst the enforced stillness of the photographic capture, she glides forward in the frame. She has paused only for a moment to check a reference or enjoy a favorite poem before proceeding gracefully on her way. She is eternal.

The young, for the most part, can not be elegant. I have no problem whatsoever with the surgically sculpted, petite little spinners that so often grace the erotic pages of Playboy. They are cute and sexy and I enjoy my time with them, both real and imagined. Marilyn, on the other hand, was only 23 when she became my Favorite Playmate and yet she looks somehow older and wiser. Perhaps, as I understand it, that is why she was pursued by Hef and eventually married a Playboy executive. Clearly we rich, smart, and elegant men have similar tastes.

Uninhibited
There is something innately sensual about going through life uninhibited. The power that emanates as a result is one of the many nebulous factors that contribute to charisma. It is also an incredible aphrodisiac.

Confidence, of course, is different than arrogance. There is something alluring about confidence. There is something repulsive about arrogance.

A lack of inhibition, by the way, is not in conflict with caring what other people think. When an actor, for example, says they do not care what other people think I can only laugh. Of course they care, or they would not be an actor. No one who requires that kind of constant reinforcement is devoid of caring. But caring is not the same as allowing your life to be run by the whims of the last person who offered you an opinion. To want other people to like you and be happy when they do is one thing. It is quite another to steer your ship by the hot air that other people blow.

Few people come across as confident and uninhibited. Even fewer can do it stark naked. Think about it. Imagine someone you admire, someone powerful and self assured. And then picture them completely naked leaning against a bookcase just looking at you with not an ounce of shame or shyness.

Marilyn can pull that off. She looks like she can take care of herself. She is pleased to be my Favorite Playmate but it’s not her goal in life. It’s merely a happy by-product of who she is and the choices she has made. Personally, I like people in my life, especially women, who can take care of themselves because I prefer to be wanted rather than needed.

Marilyn taught me that you can be sexy and desirable and anything but helpless.

Overtly Sexual
There is much more to sexual than just sex. Lots of things that don’t involve intercourse can be sexy; sports events, architecture, cars, war briefings, the new iPhone, and so on.

Additionally, in any sexually repressed society sex becomes a valuable commodity. Even Freud might have been embarrassed at the extent to which we cash in on sex as a motivating force.

But apart from the stimulation of genitalia and the obvious cash value, overt sexuality is a way of approaching life. The energy that drives us into bed with a passionate lust can be the same one that motivates us to work harder and play harder. It is obviously no coincidence that many of the most successful politicians and artists have an insatiable sexual appetite. Certainly that level of success allows more opportunity for indulgence. But I would suggest that the appetite for sex and the appetite for success are one in the same.

Overt sexuality also creates a high level of sensuality. To savor food, to bathe in music, to embrace an elegant environment, to allow your life to be changed by great art; these are the by-products of sensuality.

Ironically, I don’t think I have ever fantasized about sex with my Favorite Playmate. But I have imagined us going to dinner, discussing a good book, or watching a movie. Of course, if after getting to know me her overt sexuality spilled over into the bedroom, well, who am I to argue with such a rich, smart, elegant, and uninhibited, woman?

So that is why Marilyn Cole is my Favorite Playmate, were anyone to ask. Of course she is beautiful. But there is no need to elaborate on the obvious. All the playmates are beautiful or they would not be playmates. But an attraction for one or the other goes far beyond looks. Marilyn is my favorite because she opened the doors to new possibilities, new ways of looking at the world. She gave me options, and for that I am grateful even to this day.