The Playboy centrespread is back
PLAYBOY magazine is to bring back nudity, a year after it stopped printing pictures of naked women. The magazine dropped nudity in March last year, in an effort to broaden its appeal online and in print. But it didn't work. Things haven't changed all that much since the 1950s, it seems, when Playboy broke all kinds of contemporary taboos with its centrefolds.
Cooper Hefner, chief creative officer and son of founder Hugh Hefner, says removing nudity from Playboy was "entirely a mistake".
"Nudity was never the problem because nudity isn't a problem. Today we're taking our identity back and reclaiming who we are.
"It was clear my dad's aim when launching Playboy was to promote a healthy conversation about sex while also encouraging dialogue on social, philosophical and religious opinions. Nonetheless, many misinterpreted that message or missed it entirely, choosing instead to focus on the magazine's unapologetic portrayal of nudity and its revolutionary approach to sex."
Well, here we go. Stand by for something really arty. I've already sent off to Playboy a portfolio of pictures, including a series of myself wearing nothing but a monocle and smoking a cigar. That's a certainty for the centrefold!
HEY, tell us something new, you researchers! Scientists at Northumbria University, in England, have used motion-capture technology to discover that the key to hot dancing is in a woman's hip movements, slightly accentuated by asymmetric thigh movement and intermediate arm movement.
Well, who would have thought that?
Dr Nick Neave, associate professor of psychology at the university, told the New York Times that dance moves have two functions for women.
"One is, they're showing off their reproductive quality, perhaps their hormonal status, to males. Another is, they're showing off how good they are to female rivals.
"When you look at males and females walking, the key difference is males have this shoulder swing and females have this hip swing."
Exactly. Vive la hip swing!
MY OLD friend Joan Leslie, indefatigable battler against vervet monkeys, reports a reverse.
"Mr Big returned the other day. I had just made a batch of scones and put four on a paper plate in front of me at the desk I sit at to do my crosswords in the lounge. They were within inches of my magazine. Then, suddenly, this huge monkey jumped up and grabbed a scone and made off with it – and sat on the wall looking at me while scoffing the scone.
"I got a terrific fright but was so amused when he just looked at me as much as to say: 'So what you going to do about it, hey?' I can't say he was the original Mr Big but he was BIG!
"My snakes aren't working any more because they have become very scruffy looking and I keep on forgetting to buy some more – so very often in the afternoons Mr Big and his mates come to visit – but usually they just sit on the wall.
"I find them very amusing and think they are very cute but I must say I won't be leaving my sliding door open again in the near future."
Yes, you need to keep those rubber snakes in good nick. But there can be drawbacks. There was this fellow down at Cape Point who festooned his new Merc with rubber snakes to stop the baboons busting off his side mirrors and radio aerial while he was fishing down on the rocks.
He got back to find the entire troop of baboons pelting the car with rocks, smashing everything.
It's safer perhaps to go hi-tech. Get hold of a green laser and beam it at the blue portions of Mr Big's anatomy. They will turn turquoise, to his horror and distress. He will become an object of derision among the rest of the monkeys and you can be sure he will give you a wide berth in future.
IAN Gibson, poet laureate of Hillcrest, reflects on the State of the Nation Address.
The ANC's like a loud vuvuzela,
Much noise but not much action, impela;
Its former glory
Is a sad fading story;
Any links to that old Nkandla fella?
"MY EX-HUSBAND wants to marry me again."
"Not really. I think he's after the money I married him for."
Why don't you get out of that wet coat and into a dry martini? - Robert Benchley