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PLAYBOY MAGAZINE ONLINE READ FULL
Throwing open his bedroom closet, he pointed out shelves full of Playboy magazines he’d been stashing there for years. And so, when a couple of prospective buyers showed up with their teenage son, Dad discreetly led the young man upstairs. My parents, who’d just closed on their next home, were desperate to unload their first. Perhaps the biggest boost Playboy gave my family was an upper hand in the real-estate market. Decades before “Mad Men,” my parents were living Hef’s (admittedly sexist) dream: Over steak and shrimp cocktail, served by women in ridiculously sexy attire, they were no longer a sixth-grade teacher and camera salesman, but two sophisticates out on the town. It was on East 59th Street, and you needed to have a little key to prove your membership. I started memorizing some myself, the ones whose punchlines I understood, making me one of the sixth grade’s better raconteurs.Īnd then there was the Playboy Club, which even my mother enjoyed. But he loved the jokes, which I overheard him tell at parties. Apparently, some people really did buy Playboy for the fiction, although my dad probably wasn’t one of them. I enjoyed looking at their pictures as I did any work of art.īetter than the photos were the words: stories by Shel Silverstein, Bruce Jay Friedman and my idol, Ray Bradbury. I’d seen the nudes my artist uncle painted, but the Bunnies were fairy-tale women: perfectly coiffed and uniformly tan. “Let me know if you have any questions!” she cried, fleeing the room.īut Playboy! Those women! I wouldn’t have minded looking like Brandi, Mandi, Candy or Tiffany one day, minus the staple in their navels. Our in-home discussion basically began and ended with her bringing me a box of Tampax and shakily unfolding the instructions. This she managed to shift it into “health and hygiene.” Ironically, she was a sixth-grade teacher whose syllabus demanded that she address, at least briefly, sex ed. My mother, who was happy to discuss just about anything else, clammed up on the subject. Baby-sitting for my little brother provided the perfect opportunity to catch up on what I was missing.īack then, I was starved for information - any information - about sex. It never joined the Looks and Lifes that graced our coffee table, but I always knew where to find the latest issue: in my dad’s nightstand drawer.īy age 12 or so, I’d sneak a look at the latest Playboy whenever I could, replacing it at precisely the angle I found it in to keep my secret safe. And I loved it.īack in the ’60s, my father subscribed to the girlie mag, much to my mother’s chagrin. Say what you will about Hugh Hefner - and people are saying lots of things today, not all of them printable - but I grew up reading Playboy. 'Dangerous': Inside the secret dark world of Hugh Hefner's Playboy fantasy Hugh Hefner's ex claims Playboy mansion is haunted: 'I saw a woman' Playboy Bunny reveals 'crazy' sex stories, strict rules at Hef's mansion Holly Madison: Life in Playboy Mansion was 'gross,' drugs were 'used for sex'