Bunny Tales (31 page)

I did not want to jeopardize my education and future to pose nude in a magazine. The money is good, but after taxes, all you were left with was about $13,000. I made a decision at the very beginning of my life at the Mansion that if I ever posed nude in
Playboy
, it would have to be for at least the amount of my school loans, never any less. It wasn’t about being prudish. I am European and very comfortable with my body; I think being nude is natural, as natural as we can be. I remember being at nude beaches on the Black Sea Coast in Romania and Bulgaria when I was a little girl. I vividly recall seeing my first penis on one of those beaches. As perplexed as I was about its purpose, I giggled at the ridiculous sight of it, pointing up surrounded by a strawberry blond bush. I was five years old, and I refused to take off my bathing suit. It is comical to me now that I, the child, was the only modest one at a beach where people who should have stayed clothed were strutting their stuff. But after the initial shock of mass nudity, I relaxed and took off my bathing suit, perhaps aided by my discovery of how much fun it was to play with therapeutic mud. There were these fabulous mud baths and seaweed wraps for people to cover themselves with; I thought they worked well as a cover-up. Ever since then I have been comfortable with skin. I consider
Playboy
to be a classy magazine. I think the pictures are tasteful and artistic; my decision had nothing to do with nudity per se.

Being a Playmate is not a career in itself, at least for most Playmates. Yes, they get attention when their issue comes out. After that they move to L.A. and try their luck in modeling and acting based on their Playmate status. What most Playmates want and hope the centerfold will get them, is a career in modeling or acting. Many went on to such work, though not at the high end. Anna Nicole Smith, Miss May 1992, modeled for Guess jeans, but others are more likely to end up in swimsuit or lingerie ads and, especially, in beer ads. In the meantime, they try to get Playboy promotional jobs through the company such as making appearances at Mansion parties and playing hostesses at charity or other events. They get about $500 for an evening and a couple hundred more if they wear their bunny costumes. I noticed that it was mostly the same group of Playmates who worked the events. I am sure there are the favorites who tend to get rehired because of their dependability and personality. I know some Playmates stopped getting hired because they had visible drug problems or hooked up with the guests; they did not reflect Playboy well. Because the cost of living in L.A. is so high and jobs are limited, a lot of the Playmates move back home. We had more than one stay at the Mansion when she ran out of money. There are a few who make it in the entertainment industry, but there are only so many jobs for the
Playboy
type. It seems like back in the days of Pamela Anderson and Jenny McCarthy, the look was more popular, but now the demand is not nearly that high.

Marriage, of course, was another thing the Playmates had in mind, and several of them landed rock musicians or professional athletes. Several Playmates’ claim to fame is snagging a celebrity husband. Shanna Moakler got pregnant by Blink 182 drummer Travis Barker, and they got married soon after. Jaime Bergen married David Boreanaz, and Shauna Sand married and then recently divorced Lorenzo Lamas. And Shannon Tweed met Gene Simmons at a Mansion party. Playboy Mansion parties serve as the perfect opportunity for Playmates to hook up with rock stars or actors.

To say that all of the Playmates long to be Playmate of the Year (PMOY ) is an understatement. First, there is the $100,000 prize to be won, along with a car and a motorcycle. Second, there is the title, and the title means jobs, promotions, appearances, and even more money. And of course there is the bonus sense of superiority in relation to all of the other Playmates of your year who thought they were going to get it. The PMOY is supposedly chosen by the people in a poll. However, the rumor is that it is really Hef, with his elite team, who chooses the PMOY.

It’s funny, but you always know when it’s that time of the year: the time before a PMOY gets chosen. All of a sudden the Playmates from that year start visiting the Mansion more, showing up at all of the parties. In 2002 a certain Playmate could be seen at the Mansion every single weekend playing Scrabble with fellow Playmate Julie McColough and even cards with Hef’s secretary, Mary, and other older ladies. And then the PMOY title went to Dalene Curtis, and that other Playmate was seen only at Mansion parties, where she was always chatting up celebrities.

Some Playmates even visit Hef’s bedroom in hopes of bettering their chances. Many girls think that sleeping with Hef will give them an edge over the competition. And there is good history to support that contention. After all, Brande Roderick and Dalene Curtis were his Girlfriends and then became PMOY. I would say that during the years I lived at the Mansion, half of the Playmates up for the title ended up in the bedroom. Though some only fooled around with the girls, many had sex with Hef. The reason I know it is connected to the PMOY title is that those girls never came up before the competition began, and they didn’t come up after they lost the title.

Not only was the PMOY award good for Hef’s sex life but we, the Girlfriends, also benefited. All of a sudden gifts were coming in the mail, and the girls were stopping by with little tokens for all of us. But we didn’t have any influence on Hef, none of us, not even Holly, who is always in his ear. Yes, we told him who we thought was the prettiest and the nicest of the girls—not always one and the same. That is as far as it went. The Playmates always drilled us for information as to what Hef looks for and what they can do to better their chances. They were also more than willing to rat each other out; Playmates often gossiped about their competition and knew we would pass it on to Hef. I remember one year, a beautiful blonde whom I personally liked a lot was up for the title. All of a sudden this gossip about her drug use surfaced, followed by rumors of her sleeping with various men at the Playboy parties where she was supposed to be a hostess. Either way, Hef was uncomfortable with the image associated with her and she didn’t get the title. The most beautiful girl does not always get the prize. Neither does the nicest, most wholesome girl next door. It’s a combination of both qualities as well as star potential. If a girl goes on to land a movie role or a television job, it means added publicity for Playboy. Same with the guy she is dating; if she has a known beau, it raises publicity for her and Playboy.

There are other factors such as age, family, and political considerations. January 2004 Playmate Aliyah Wolf is beautiful, but she had two things going against becoming PMOY: Her married name is Hussein and she has a child. The same with Playmate Stephanie Glasson, she also has a child and is thirty years old. She is a great girl, and we became friends, but I told her before her issue even came out that she would not be PMOY. Is it fair? Of course not. Hef claims to be an equal opportunity employer, but if you are nearing thirty and if you have a child, despite how beautiful and educated you are, you have no chance. Sometimes the PMOY choice is downright confusing. In 2002 Christina Santiago, who was a contestant on the reality show
Playboy: Who Wants to be a Playboy Centerfold
, became the PMOY. People could not understand how she could win the title; although a beautiful woman, she didn’t even win the show.

Then there was the quiet, well-hidden Playmate scandal. Hef kept getting e-mails and phone calls from madams in Los Angeles that a few Playmates, including some of his former Girlfriends, were showing up on their rosters of high-priced hookers. This finally became a household controversy when some of the main candidates for Playmate of the Year were implicated. Hef met with them to discuss the issue, but despite their claim of innocence and non-involvement, he could not take the chance. The PMOY went to a girl who was not implicated. Hef really had no choice, and while the girl was beautiful, she essentially got the job because others were disqualified. Hef barely avoided it all going public, although there are a couple of articles on the Internet about it, and even Page Six of
The New York Post
recently reported that several models and Playboy Playmates are working as high-class escorts.

I learned it all from one of the girls in the house; she had been approached about working for a madam, but since she could not, she was telling some Playmates looking for the extra work to call that madam. Apparently another madam found out that this girl was sending Playmates to her competition and she threatened the Girlfriend. She was scared that Hef would find out about it all, and she confided in me; she also told me some of the names of the Playmates and former Girlfriends who were involved. The truth is that a lot of them did work as escorts, particularly in other cities and often in foreign places such as Turkey or the Middle East. We even knew some of Hef’s ex-Girlfriends who bragged about how much money they were making. I stayed out of it all, not wanting to know too much. It was sad. For a lot of these girls the money is just too important to pass up; after they move out of the Mansion and cannot continue their standard of living on Playboy promotion jobs, they look for an easy way to make a buck. And apparently Playmates can charge a lot more than regular escorts because of their title. It isn’t just Playmates who get involved in becoming high-class escorts though. I attended parties where I heard about celebrity women getting paid huge amounts of money to have dinner or attend a party with—and even spend a night with—some oil billionaire in the Middle East. This is not to say that most Playmates are gold-diggers and escorts. In fact, most of the girls I met are beautiful, really nice, friendly, and fun girls.

18: Fiftieth Anniversary of Playboy.

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

I
t was really special to be with Hef for the fiftieth anniversary of
Playboy
magazine. That is quite a milestone considering the humble beginnings of the magazine. He had been talking about the anniversary and all of the fun things we were going to do for months. The celebration started in August 2003, with a party at the Palms in Las Vegas. The drama began right away with the room assignments: Emma, Susan, and I had our own suite while Holly, Bridget, and Candy were to stay with Hef across the hall at the newly created “Hef suite,” which is now open to all Palms guests. I didn’t have a problem with the setup, but Emma and Susan felt it was unfair that he automatically assumed we didn’t want to be with him. Why couldn’t the other three have their own room? Of course the answer was Holly; Holly had to be with Hef and because Emma did not like Holly and vice versa, they could not be in the same room. It made perfect sense to me, but the inequity of the situation was really frustrating sometimes. I was excited to be out of the Mansion and did not want to focus on the silliness among the girls. We got dressed, took some pictures, and headed downstairs to an auction featuring Playboy memorabilia, including the famous Chicago round bed Hef used to hump on. We took some more photos and headed off to the street dedication ceremony for the “Honorary Hugh Hefner Drive.” When we walked outside, there was a beautiful vintage Cadillac waiting for us (it once belonged to Marilyn Monroe and now belongs to Gavin’s uncle, who kindly lent it out for the occasion). We drove in the car, like a procession, to the street corner a few feet away. It took a few minutes to go through the ceremony and unveil the street sign. Finally, we were off to Ghostbar for some drinks. Everybody, including dozens of Playmates, was already there, drinking and having fun. We realized we had not had dinner, so we went to the N9NE steakhouse at the Palms—my favorite restaurant in Vegas—for dinner. And we ended the night partying at the pool lounge Skin, where Paris Hilton joined us. She was very friendly with Hef; she sat on his lap for a photo and it made Holly so jealous. Holly actually told Hef that it bothered her when Paris came over to greet him and sat next to Hef in Holly’s place. Paris was always so carefree that she never noticed. Who cares if she sits by Hef for a minute to say hi and take a picture? Next, Paris asked us if we wanted a “wet pussy.” We looked at each other puzzled. It was a shot! Oh, okay, sure. So she went ahead and ordered “wet pussies” for everyone. We always run into Paris on the party circuit, and she is always friendly and sweet and likes to have fun.

The next day we lay poolside all day while Hef conducted countless interviews in our cabana, occasionally calling us over when he needed his blonde props. We were bored. Who wants to lay around in an area roped off from the public and guarded by security? It was not fun. Increasingly we felt like some sort of Playboy promoters who were not getting paid for any of the work. While everyone else was bedazzled by their exclusive invitation to the hottest party in town, for us it was similar to being in a car commercial. We had to appear charming, and gracious, and showcase the product—in this case, Hef himself. He made a lot of money off us and we sat there, lonely and isolated.

The second night we attended the premier of Zumanity, a Cirque du Soleil show that was absolutely fantastic. We sat right up front on the cozy little couches—Hef with Bridget and Holly on one, and Susan, Emma, and I on the other. Right before the closing act of the show, the emcee pulled Emma and I onto the stage to participate in the last act with them. It was a slow sensual dance. Our adrenaline skyrocketing, we began touching each other and moving our bodies erotically among the troupe, who welcomed us onto the stage. It was an amazingly liberating experience, and we got off the stage drunk with happiness. Holly rolled her eyes, but it didn’t affect us anymore. We stole the spotlight.