I have decided to continue writing my life....but no longer putting it on a blog. My goal is to publish it as a book. If you happened to have found it interesting, I hope you will get the book so you can read the rest of the story. The best parts are yet to come...
I will keep these Chapters that I have posted in tact on my blog. I'm finding too many things to edit and add and it is difficut to have to keep changing each Chapter in two different places.
I will continue to keep you informed now and then and certainly let you know if and when it is published. It might have a different title by then.
This has been a great experience and has given me the opportunity to start a project I have been putting off for too many years.
I thank everyone who has read any or all parts of it. I has been very much appreciated and helpful.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Monday, August 23, 2010
Chapter 5, Part 3 - WHAT IT'S LIKE BEING A BUNNY
Being a Bunny was not as easy nor as glamorous as it appears to those on the outside looking in. There were rules....lots of rules! We went through two weeks of training before being allowed to serve drinks and we were given a 44 page “Bunny Manual” with all of the rules and regulations that we were required to memorize. If we did not obey the rules, we got “demerits” which cost us $1.00 per demerit. (Unfortunately, there were no “merits”)! It cost one demerit per minute if you were late for work. There were demerits for anything that wasn’t right with your costume and for various other wrongdoings. If you accumulated 100 demerits you could be fired, depending on how serious your blunders were.
During the two weeks of training we were shown how to fix our hair – it took special hair-do’s to incorporate and enhance the look of the Bunny ears. We also got lessons in how to do our make-up. All of the rooms were quite dark so we needed to wear lots of make-up in order to stand out. We all wore false eyelashes. We learned how to order drinks from the bartenders and which garnishes to put in each drink. We ended up knowing how each drink was made, what was in each one and which glass it should be served in. Finally we learned to serve the drinks in the special stylized form that was a trademark of the Bunnies.
Every Bunny was inspected by the Bunny Mother and also by the “Room Directors” who were men assigned to be in charge of each room in the club (the Maître D’ of each room). Your ears, tail, bow tie, name tag, collar and cuffs had to be clean and straight. Your tail had to be fluffy and fresh looking. You were required to purchase three-inch (satin) high heels to match each one of your costumes. The problem with satin shoes was they never stretched the way leather shoes do and they never felt “broken in” and comfortable. All bunnies had problems with their feet and they ached so badly at the end of your shift that you could hardly walk at the end of the night. Costumes also wore out rather quickly so it always seemed like you were wearing a new pair of high heels. They would alternate colors so you didn’t have the same color costumes each time.
Each bunny usually had at least two costumes in two different colors. There were ten different colors of costumes. The goal for each of us was to finally be one of the lucky ones to get to have a black costume. It was everyone’s favorite and they limited the number so it usually took a long time before you got to have a black costume. You really felt like you finally “made it” when you got a black costume.
The shifts were long an arduous. The Club was open from 11:00 AM to 4:00 AM and there were two shifts. One was from 11:00 AM until 6:00 PM and the second one was from 6:00 PM to 4:00 AM. It was impossible to take a break because you never stopped waiting on tables the entire time you were there. You were never allowed to sit down and you were always required to carry your tray. You were allowed to “perch” on the back seat of a couch or railing but only in a certain way... in a “pose”.
The trays were heavy. At all times you were required to have several ashtrays, napkins and a cigarette lighter on your tray. Whenever you noticed an ashtray with even one cigarette in it you were to exchange it with a new one. This would be done by putting an empty ashtray upside down on top of the dirty one, picking them both up and putting the dirty one on your tray and immediately placing the clean one back onto the table. This was done so quickly that it almost appeared to be a “magic trick”. If you saw a customer take out a cigarette, you were to light it with the “Playboy” cigarette lighter that you always had with you. (Most times it shocked the heck out of them!).
Drinks consisted of one and a half ounce shots in heavy shot glasses. When the drinks were served, we would put a glass of ice on the table, and pour the shot of alcohol over the ice. All mixers were carried in bottles, plus a carafe of water. So, we could at one time have several shot glasses with booze, and separate bottles of 7-up, tonic, soda, coke, ginger ale etc. Many times the trays weighed 35 pounds (perhaps more)! We were only allowed to carry the tray in our left hand, and serve with our right hand. We were never allowed to hold the tray with two hands! We all developed big muscles in our left biceps!
We served drinks by backing up to the table on our right side until our leg touched the table. The tray would be in our left hand away from the table and as we placed glasses on the table we would do the “Bunny Dip” which meant we would bend our knees and gracefully place the glasses on the table, pour the shot into the glass, and then pour the mixer asking the customer to “say when”. We would load the glasses full of ice which made the drinks go farther. Serving drinks the way we did not only looked pretty but helped us from having our boobs come out of the costume! (Remember, we had LOTS of padding under each boob so it was quite easy for them to come out over the top of the costume).
Everything in the club cost $1.50 (which was quite steep at the time). All drinks cost the same – no matter if it was only water or the most expensive liquor. Meals, cigarettes, cigarette lighters, ashtrays and glasses were all $1.50 and could be purchased. One exception was the “Pool Bunny” who would play Bumper Pool with the customers for $1.00 per game. The Bunnies that played pool got very good at it and if the customer could beat her, they got a medal and their name on a plaque on the wall (with fanfare and a ceremony). It was very difficult to beat them because they played every night for 8 to 10 hours, usually 6 nights a week on the same table - so they knew every little kink in the table and where to hit every shot.
There was a “Camera Bunny” who would take Polaroid pictures put in a paper frame which were also $1.50. Also, a "Cigarette Bunny" who would walk around the Club selling cigarettes along with a Playboy lighter for $1.50. Three other jobs were the “Door Bunny” who would greet members at the door, check their Key and inform them of what was going on throughout the Club, and Bunnies who worked the Gift Shop and Coat Check. The Door, Gift Shop and Coat Check Bunnies got hourly wages. You would get some tips from members, but not always.
We were required to purchase our stockings from the Playboy Club at $5.00 a pair. If we got a run in our stocking we had to immediately go to the Bunny Room and get a new pair. Sometimes we went through several pairs in one night because customers would continually touch us with their cigarettes!
Each Bunny had to pay the bartender and the busboys ($6.00 per night apiece) which was deducted from our paycheck. Most customers would write our tip on their check and at the end of the week we got a paycheck with the tips. When they signed their tab, we carried small flashlights that we would shine on the bill so they could see it in the dark and it clearly said “TIP” under the total for them to add in. Cocktail bunny’s wages were tips ONLY – no hourly wage whatsoever! By the time they took out taxes, Social Security, bartender and busboy fees, charges for stockings and demerits, our paychecks were not a whole lot. We really counted on cash tips for the majority of our income. Years later the Bunnies in New York went on “strike” and demanded the minimum wage, and they won (for all the clubs).
The Playboy Club also hired a detective agency – The “Willmark Service System”. These “detectives” would come to the club posing as customers and try to give us a hard time or ask us on a date or to do something to break one of the rules. Essentially, trying to “entrap” us by offering money for favors or thinly disguised requests for sex. They would write a detailed report on the Bunnies that waited on them. If we really screwed up, we could be fired! So, we never knew if and when one of our customers was possibly a Willmark detective. We were not allowed to fraternize with any of the customers outside of the club or date any customer. Customers were not allowed to “touch” any of the bunnies, not even their “tail”. If they did, they could be asked to leave and have their “key” taken away.
There was an exception to this rule however. There were “Number 1 Keyholders” members who were allowed to date the Bunnies. These were the Executives of Playboy and some of the close friends of the Executives. They did not have to pay for anything in the club and were allowed to “entertain” bunnies. You would know who they were because their keys said “No.1” on the back of the key where the members' numbers were. However, most Bunnies recognized the No. 1 key holders as soon as they entered the room (except when they were new hires).
We were not allowed to wear any jewelry with our costume. No watches, rings, or any other type of jewelry. Bunnies were to all to appear to be single and were not encouraged to tell anyone if they were married (which many of them were – with children).
Finally, we were required to attend a “Bunny Meeting” once a month in an afternoon. Not showing up for a meeting cost 100 Demerits! Meetings seemed to never end because each bunny would air her gripes, complaints and problems etc, etc on and on.....
During the two weeks of training we were shown how to fix our hair – it took special hair-do’s to incorporate and enhance the look of the Bunny ears. We also got lessons in how to do our make-up. All of the rooms were quite dark so we needed to wear lots of make-up in order to stand out. We all wore false eyelashes. We learned how to order drinks from the bartenders and which garnishes to put in each drink. We ended up knowing how each drink was made, what was in each one and which glass it should be served in. Finally we learned to serve the drinks in the special stylized form that was a trademark of the Bunnies.
Every Bunny was inspected by the Bunny Mother and also by the “Room Directors” who were men assigned to be in charge of each room in the club (the Maître D’ of each room). Your ears, tail, bow tie, name tag, collar and cuffs had to be clean and straight. Your tail had to be fluffy and fresh looking. You were required to purchase three-inch (satin) high heels to match each one of your costumes. The problem with satin shoes was they never stretched the way leather shoes do and they never felt “broken in” and comfortable. All bunnies had problems with their feet and they ached so badly at the end of your shift that you could hardly walk at the end of the night. Costumes also wore out rather quickly so it always seemed like you were wearing a new pair of high heels. They would alternate colors so you didn’t have the same color costumes each time.
Each bunny usually had at least two costumes in two different colors. There were ten different colors of costumes. The goal for each of us was to finally be one of the lucky ones to get to have a black costume. It was everyone’s favorite and they limited the number so it usually took a long time before you got to have a black costume. You really felt like you finally “made it” when you got a black costume.
The shifts were long an arduous. The Club was open from 11:00 AM to 4:00 AM and there were two shifts. One was from 11:00 AM until 6:00 PM and the second one was from 6:00 PM to 4:00 AM. It was impossible to take a break because you never stopped waiting on tables the entire time you were there. You were never allowed to sit down and you were always required to carry your tray. You were allowed to “perch” on the back seat of a couch or railing but only in a certain way... in a “pose”.
The trays were heavy. At all times you were required to have several ashtrays, napkins and a cigarette lighter on your tray. Whenever you noticed an ashtray with even one cigarette in it you were to exchange it with a new one. This would be done by putting an empty ashtray upside down on top of the dirty one, picking them both up and putting the dirty one on your tray and immediately placing the clean one back onto the table. This was done so quickly that it almost appeared to be a “magic trick”. If you saw a customer take out a cigarette, you were to light it with the “Playboy” cigarette lighter that you always had with you. (Most times it shocked the heck out of them!).
Drinks consisted of one and a half ounce shots in heavy shot glasses. When the drinks were served, we would put a glass of ice on the table, and pour the shot of alcohol over the ice. All mixers were carried in bottles, plus a carafe of water. So, we could at one time have several shot glasses with booze, and separate bottles of 7-up, tonic, soda, coke, ginger ale etc. Many times the trays weighed 35 pounds (perhaps more)! We were only allowed to carry the tray in our left hand, and serve with our right hand. We were never allowed to hold the tray with two hands! We all developed big muscles in our left biceps!
We served drinks by backing up to the table on our right side until our leg touched the table. The tray would be in our left hand away from the table and as we placed glasses on the table we would do the “Bunny Dip” which meant we would bend our knees and gracefully place the glasses on the table, pour the shot into the glass, and then pour the mixer asking the customer to “say when”. We would load the glasses full of ice which made the drinks go farther. Serving drinks the way we did not only looked pretty but helped us from having our boobs come out of the costume! (Remember, we had LOTS of padding under each boob so it was quite easy for them to come out over the top of the costume).
Everything in the club cost $1.50 (which was quite steep at the time). All drinks cost the same – no matter if it was only water or the most expensive liquor. Meals, cigarettes, cigarette lighters, ashtrays and glasses were all $1.50 and could be purchased. One exception was the “Pool Bunny” who would play Bumper Pool with the customers for $1.00 per game. The Bunnies that played pool got very good at it and if the customer could beat her, they got a medal and their name on a plaque on the wall (with fanfare and a ceremony). It was very difficult to beat them because they played every night for 8 to 10 hours, usually 6 nights a week on the same table - so they knew every little kink in the table and where to hit every shot.
There was a “Camera Bunny” who would take Polaroid pictures put in a paper frame which were also $1.50. Also, a "Cigarette Bunny" who would walk around the Club selling cigarettes along with a Playboy lighter for $1.50. Three other jobs were the “Door Bunny” who would greet members at the door, check their Key and inform them of what was going on throughout the Club, and Bunnies who worked the Gift Shop and Coat Check. The Door, Gift Shop and Coat Check Bunnies got hourly wages. You would get some tips from members, but not always.
We were required to purchase our stockings from the Playboy Club at $5.00 a pair. If we got a run in our stocking we had to immediately go to the Bunny Room and get a new pair. Sometimes we went through several pairs in one night because customers would continually touch us with their cigarettes!
Each Bunny had to pay the bartender and the busboys ($6.00 per night apiece) which was deducted from our paycheck. Most customers would write our tip on their check and at the end of the week we got a paycheck with the tips. When they signed their tab, we carried small flashlights that we would shine on the bill so they could see it in the dark and it clearly said “TIP” under the total for them to add in. Cocktail bunny’s wages were tips ONLY – no hourly wage whatsoever! By the time they took out taxes, Social Security, bartender and busboy fees, charges for stockings and demerits, our paychecks were not a whole lot. We really counted on cash tips for the majority of our income. Years later the Bunnies in New York went on “strike” and demanded the minimum wage, and they won (for all the clubs).
The Playboy Club also hired a detective agency – The “Willmark Service System”. These “detectives” would come to the club posing as customers and try to give us a hard time or ask us on a date or to do something to break one of the rules. Essentially, trying to “entrap” us by offering money for favors or thinly disguised requests for sex. They would write a detailed report on the Bunnies that waited on them. If we really screwed up, we could be fired! So, we never knew if and when one of our customers was possibly a Willmark detective. We were not allowed to fraternize with any of the customers outside of the club or date any customer. Customers were not allowed to “touch” any of the bunnies, not even their “tail”. If they did, they could be asked to leave and have their “key” taken away.
There was an exception to this rule however. There were “Number 1 Keyholders” members who were allowed to date the Bunnies. These were the Executives of Playboy and some of the close friends of the Executives. They did not have to pay for anything in the club and were allowed to “entertain” bunnies. You would know who they were because their keys said “No.1” on the back of the key where the members' numbers were. However, most Bunnies recognized the No. 1 key holders as soon as they entered the room (except when they were new hires).
We were not allowed to wear any jewelry with our costume. No watches, rings, or any other type of jewelry. Bunnies were to all to appear to be single and were not encouraged to tell anyone if they were married (which many of them were – with children).
Finally, we were required to attend a “Bunny Meeting” once a month in an afternoon. Not showing up for a meeting cost 100 Demerits! Meetings seemed to never end because each bunny would air her gripes, complaints and problems etc, etc on and on.....
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Chapter 5, Part 2 - THE INTERVIEW
When I arrived at the Playboy Club for the interview, first I had to fill out the necessary applications and forms and then had a short interview. You only needed to be 18 to become a Bunny. Oddly enough, you could serve alcohol at 18 but you had to be 21 to drink! Next, I was sent to the “Bunny Room” which was the dressing room for the Bunnies. There was just one seamstress that made all of the costumes. I was given some stockings, shoes, bunny ears, a tail and the collar and cuffs that were worn with each costume. She went through the extra costumes and found one that fit me as good as she could. I then returned to the Bunny Mother’s office where she took some Polaroid pictures of me. She then sent me back upstairs to change back into my clothes and was told to return to her office.
The man that had approached me was absolutely correct in describing what the Bunny Costume does to your appearance! The stockings were very tight black, semi-sheer panty hose. Right away, my legs looked way better because the stockings were so tight they slenderized the look of your legs and made them look much firmer (smoothed out all the lumps). We wore 3-inch high heels which also made your legs looked longer! Even the added height of the bunny ears made you appear taller.
The costume itself fit like a very tight corset which was ribbed with bones that made your waistline several inches smaller. Zipping it up in the back was no easy task. You had to hold your breath and push it together in the back while someone else zipped it up. The legs were cut very high on each side – almost to your waistline. There was lacing that was tied just above each hip bone which also created the illusion that your legs looked longer. The bust line was strapless and would be stuffed with extra “bunny tails” which made your boobs look several times larger than they were. The stuffing would be placed under your breasts so it pushed them up and gave you a cleavage and a bulge so all bunnies looked like they had large breasts. When I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t believe it was me I was looking at!! Whoever designed the costume was a genius! The seamstress was a true artist and miracle worker!
To my utter disbelief and amazement, the Bunny Mother asked me if I could start that very night! She explained that they were badly in need of Bunnies to fill positions and she had two jobs I could do that night. My first job was to stand behind a “Shrimp Bar” where there was shrimp on ice. This was located on the bottom floor in the “Playmate Bar”. If a customer wanted to purchase some, I would put six shrimp on a plate along with some lettuce, tarter sauce and a slice of lemon. It cost $1.50 and they would pay me with a paper “key” that they would purchase first. I would do this for three hours (4:00 pm to 7:00 pm) for $6.00 and hour plus tips and then the shrimp bar would close for the night.
Later that same night from 2:00 AM to 4:00 AM there was a “twist party” in one of the showrooms. A few bunnies would do the “twist” with the customers for two hours. For this I was also paid $6.00 an hour plus any tips the customers might give me. My very first night, I did the twist with Johnny Weissmuller who had been “Tarzan” in the movies. He was the first of many celebrities I would have the opportunity to meet over the next six years that I worked for Playboy. My first night working as a Bunny, I made $55 which was more than I made a WEEK at the department store! I was hooked! I couldn’t believe this was happening to me! I was ecstatic!
Needless to say, I quit my job and never returned to Carson Pirie Scott. I was nineteen.
The man that had approached me was absolutely correct in describing what the Bunny Costume does to your appearance! The stockings were very tight black, semi-sheer panty hose. Right away, my legs looked way better because the stockings were so tight they slenderized the look of your legs and made them look much firmer (smoothed out all the lumps). We wore 3-inch high heels which also made your legs looked longer! Even the added height of the bunny ears made you appear taller.
The costume itself fit like a very tight corset which was ribbed with bones that made your waistline several inches smaller. Zipping it up in the back was no easy task. You had to hold your breath and push it together in the back while someone else zipped it up. The legs were cut very high on each side – almost to your waistline. There was lacing that was tied just above each hip bone which also created the illusion that your legs looked longer. The bust line was strapless and would be stuffed with extra “bunny tails” which made your boobs look several times larger than they were. The stuffing would be placed under your breasts so it pushed them up and gave you a cleavage and a bulge so all bunnies looked like they had large breasts. When I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t believe it was me I was looking at!! Whoever designed the costume was a genius! The seamstress was a true artist and miracle worker!
To my utter disbelief and amazement, the Bunny Mother asked me if I could start that very night! She explained that they were badly in need of Bunnies to fill positions and she had two jobs I could do that night. My first job was to stand behind a “Shrimp Bar” where there was shrimp on ice. This was located on the bottom floor in the “Playmate Bar”. If a customer wanted to purchase some, I would put six shrimp on a plate along with some lettuce, tarter sauce and a slice of lemon. It cost $1.50 and they would pay me with a paper “key” that they would purchase first. I would do this for three hours (4:00 pm to 7:00 pm) for $6.00 and hour plus tips and then the shrimp bar would close for the night.
Later that same night from 2:00 AM to 4:00 AM there was a “twist party” in one of the showrooms. A few bunnies would do the “twist” with the customers for two hours. For this I was also paid $6.00 an hour plus any tips the customers might give me. My very first night, I did the twist with Johnny Weissmuller who had been “Tarzan” in the movies. He was the first of many celebrities I would have the opportunity to meet over the next six years that I worked for Playboy. My first night working as a Bunny, I made $55 which was more than I made a WEEK at the department store! I was hooked! I couldn’t believe this was happening to me! I was ecstatic!
Needless to say, I quit my job and never returned to Carson Pirie Scott. I was nineteen.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Chapter 5, Part 1 - A NEW LIFE ON MY OWN
For now, I am skipping from December, 1960 to September, 1961 – I will talk about what happened during that time period later.
I had received a scholarship to attend a prominent Nursing School in Chicago at Pasavant Hospital. Even though I really wanted to become a nurse, it would mean I would have to continue living with my father for the next three years. He was very strict and controlling and would not allow me to go out or on dates. He was suspicious of every minute I wasn’t where he could keep an eye on me, so I felt I had to move away from him or go crazy. I passed up a great opportunity to go to that nursing school.
I stayed with him for awhile because I had started attending the Chicago Art Institute. I had entertained the idea of becoming a Fashion Illustrator. I took classes there for almost a year. In the beginning we drew still life such as fruit, flowers and other objects sitting on a table. Next we graduated to drawing live (nude) models who would maintain a pose for an entire hour without moving. My drawings were all in charcoal. Somehow over the years I lost all of my drawings which I thought were quite good. Fashion Illustrators drew pictures for newspaper ads of the latest fashions. The pay was quite good but I never followed through with it to pursue that career. After leaving the Art Institute I shared an apartment with a girl my same age who was the daughter of one of my co-workers at Carson Pirie Scott.
Our apartment was on the near north side of Chicago and was very much like the apartment that “Lavern and Shirley” had in their TV series (which was many years later). We were in a basement, two bedroom apartment. There was a window high up on the living room wall that was level with the street outside. It was $50 a month which was $25 for each of us. I loved it! I was free!! The “L” was close by and I would take the train to and from work each day. It was heavenly to be on my own and independent!
One day in August, 1962 a man approached me as I worked behind the department store counter. He said: “you are SO beautiful, why aren’t you a Bunny at the Playboy Club?” I told him that I had seen the ad and did not believe that I was one of the “most beautiful” women in Chicago. Besides, I had seen pictures of Bunnies and it appeared to me that they had long slender legs and big boobs, of which I had neither. He explained that the “look” was an illusion created by the Bunny costume and I should go and at least apply for the job. He also told me that I would get to try on a Bunny costume as part of the interview, and I would be amazed at what it did to my physical appearance. The kicker was when he said that Bunnies were earning a minimum of $300 a night (remember I was making $53.28 a week).
I muddled over the idea the rest of the day and all night. Becoming a Bunny sounded like a “pipe dream”, but I decided to at least go and apply – if only to get the opportunity to try on a Bunny costume. What the heck! I was aware of the location of the Playboy Mansion because it was located at 1340 N. State Street which was only about three blocks from the Plaza Hotel (on the corner of Clark Street and North Avenue) where I had been living. I might add that I never knew who this man was that “discovered” me. He was a mere “passer-by” that made a suggestion to me.
The very next day, I went to the Playboy Club to be interviewed by the”Bunny Mother”. She was the one who hired and arranged training for the Bunnies and also wrote their weekly work schedules, which constantly changed. She also “inspected” each Bunny before they were allowed to go to the Club downstairs to work. The costumes had to be perfect – always. I wasn’t even nervous about the interview because I was positive that I would not get hired anyway. To me, this was merely an adventure to try on a Bunny costume.
I had received a scholarship to attend a prominent Nursing School in Chicago at Pasavant Hospital. Even though I really wanted to become a nurse, it would mean I would have to continue living with my father for the next three years. He was very strict and controlling and would not allow me to go out or on dates. He was suspicious of every minute I wasn’t where he could keep an eye on me, so I felt I had to move away from him or go crazy. I passed up a great opportunity to go to that nursing school.
I stayed with him for awhile because I had started attending the Chicago Art Institute. I had entertained the idea of becoming a Fashion Illustrator. I took classes there for almost a year. In the beginning we drew still life such as fruit, flowers and other objects sitting on a table. Next we graduated to drawing live (nude) models who would maintain a pose for an entire hour without moving. My drawings were all in charcoal. Somehow over the years I lost all of my drawings which I thought were quite good. Fashion Illustrators drew pictures for newspaper ads of the latest fashions. The pay was quite good but I never followed through with it to pursue that career. After leaving the Art Institute I shared an apartment with a girl my same age who was the daughter of one of my co-workers at Carson Pirie Scott.
Our apartment was on the near north side of Chicago and was very much like the apartment that “Lavern and Shirley” had in their TV series (which was many years later). We were in a basement, two bedroom apartment. There was a window high up on the living room wall that was level with the street outside. It was $50 a month which was $25 for each of us. I loved it! I was free!! The “L” was close by and I would take the train to and from work each day. It was heavenly to be on my own and independent!
One day in August, 1962 a man approached me as I worked behind the department store counter. He said: “you are SO beautiful, why aren’t you a Bunny at the Playboy Club?” I told him that I had seen the ad and did not believe that I was one of the “most beautiful” women in Chicago. Besides, I had seen pictures of Bunnies and it appeared to me that they had long slender legs and big boobs, of which I had neither. He explained that the “look” was an illusion created by the Bunny costume and I should go and at least apply for the job. He also told me that I would get to try on a Bunny costume as part of the interview, and I would be amazed at what it did to my physical appearance. The kicker was when he said that Bunnies were earning a minimum of $300 a night (remember I was making $53.28 a week).
I muddled over the idea the rest of the day and all night. Becoming a Bunny sounded like a “pipe dream”, but I decided to at least go and apply – if only to get the opportunity to try on a Bunny costume. What the heck! I was aware of the location of the Playboy Mansion because it was located at 1340 N. State Street which was only about three blocks from the Plaza Hotel (on the corner of Clark Street and North Avenue) where I had been living. I might add that I never knew who this man was that “discovered” me. He was a mere “passer-by” that made a suggestion to me.
The very next day, I went to the Playboy Club to be interviewed by the”Bunny Mother”. She was the one who hired and arranged training for the Bunnies and also wrote their weekly work schedules, which constantly changed. She also “inspected” each Bunny before they were allowed to go to the Club downstairs to work. The costumes had to be perfect – always. I wasn’t even nervous about the interview because I was positive that I would not get hired anyway. To me, this was merely an adventure to try on a Bunny costume.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Chapter 4, Part 6 - DISTASTER STRIKES
Neither of us had ever drunk alcohol and didn’t know what we were getting into. Between the two of us we polished off the entire fifth!! Needless to say, when we woke up on Monday morning, we were sicker than dogs! When the nun came to our room to wake us up, we were both throwing up and had horrible headaches. We told her that we must have either gotten food poisoning or had serious cases of the flu. She bought the story and all day long we were taken care of, nursred and waited on, even having meals delivered to our room! (After that day, I could never drink bourbon ever again – even the smell of it makes me ill).
The big mistake that we both made, was to write letters to friends explaining what happened and how we had the nuns fooled into believing that we really were sick (rather than having serious hangovers).
The day of reckoning came, when the people we wrote to, wrote us back and referred to what we had told them about how funny it was how we fooled the nuns and got waited on hand and foot.
Like I said previously, the nuns read our incoming mail. The Sister Superior read the letters we got back from our friends about our escapade. We were in deep doo doo… We were not only in trouble for what we did, but for bragging about pulling the wool over the good sisters’ eyes! This happened at the end of November, 1960 of our senior year in high school, and we were both expelled!! We were told that we could still finish our senior year there, but only as “day students” and not as boarders. It was disastrous!
Marilyn lived in Evanston so it wasn’t as much of an inconvenience for her as it was for me. My father lived in Chicago (about 20 miles away). She did finish her senior year as a day student but for me it meant I would have to take the train to Evanston each day to and from school plus walk quite a distance from the train station. This proved to be impossible for me to accomplish because it was over an hour commute each direction. I had to leave Marywood, move in with my father, and find a new school! The entire situation was a nightmare to me.
They gave us a couple of weeks to try to figure out what we were going to do. I got so distraught that I ingested a bottle of aspirin (and every other pill I could get my hands on) to try to kill myself. The only thing that happened was I got a terrible ringing in my ears and got very sick to my stomach. My second attempt at wanting to die, failed miserably. Nothing would make the nuns change their minds about expelling me….even though I apologized, cried, begged and pleaded.
I found a new school in Chicago, fairly close to where I lived, called St. Michael’s Central High School. It was a Catholic day school, no boarders. I would take the bus to and from school and kept my job at Carson Pirie Scott working on week-ends and on two nights a week after school until 10:00 PM. The uniforms were extremely ugly. The school was in an Italian neighborhood. Chicago was like that – the Jewish, Irish and Italians etc had their own sections of Chicago and stuck together. I did not fit in at all. I was miserable.
Another big difference was the fact that it was not an all girl school like I was used to. There were boys that attended the school too. My father would not allow me to date anyone. I started classes at St. Michael’s around the first part of December, 1960.
I became somewhat of a celebrity in the high school because of my modeling in the newspaper and on TV. As much as I tried, I was just not happy there and regretted so much my stupid indiscretion about the alcohol. I really looked forward to graduation so I could get out of there, and get on with my life.
This was only the beginning. My biggest disaster was yet to come…..
******
Right now, I am not ready to talk about what happened to me next because it is just too painful and too awful to divulge to anyone yet. I am finding it necessary to delay talking about it at this time. I do need to tell this part of my story and I will talk about it when I am ready, just not yet…
The big mistake that we both made, was to write letters to friends explaining what happened and how we had the nuns fooled into believing that we really were sick (rather than having serious hangovers).
The day of reckoning came, when the people we wrote to, wrote us back and referred to what we had told them about how funny it was how we fooled the nuns and got waited on hand and foot.
Like I said previously, the nuns read our incoming mail. The Sister Superior read the letters we got back from our friends about our escapade. We were in deep doo doo… We were not only in trouble for what we did, but for bragging about pulling the wool over the good sisters’ eyes! This happened at the end of November, 1960 of our senior year in high school, and we were both expelled!! We were told that we could still finish our senior year there, but only as “day students” and not as boarders. It was disastrous!
Marilyn lived in Evanston so it wasn’t as much of an inconvenience for her as it was for me. My father lived in Chicago (about 20 miles away). She did finish her senior year as a day student but for me it meant I would have to take the train to Evanston each day to and from school plus walk quite a distance from the train station. This proved to be impossible for me to accomplish because it was over an hour commute each direction. I had to leave Marywood, move in with my father, and find a new school! The entire situation was a nightmare to me.
They gave us a couple of weeks to try to figure out what we were going to do. I got so distraught that I ingested a bottle of aspirin (and every other pill I could get my hands on) to try to kill myself. The only thing that happened was I got a terrible ringing in my ears and got very sick to my stomach. My second attempt at wanting to die, failed miserably. Nothing would make the nuns change their minds about expelling me….even though I apologized, cried, begged and pleaded.
I found a new school in Chicago, fairly close to where I lived, called St. Michael’s Central High School. It was a Catholic day school, no boarders. I would take the bus to and from school and kept my job at Carson Pirie Scott working on week-ends and on two nights a week after school until 10:00 PM. The uniforms were extremely ugly. The school was in an Italian neighborhood. Chicago was like that – the Jewish, Irish and Italians etc had their own sections of Chicago and stuck together. I did not fit in at all. I was miserable.
Another big difference was the fact that it was not an all girl school like I was used to. There were boys that attended the school too. My father would not allow me to date anyone. I started classes at St. Michael’s around the first part of December, 1960.
I became somewhat of a celebrity in the high school because of my modeling in the newspaper and on TV. As much as I tried, I was just not happy there and regretted so much my stupid indiscretion about the alcohol. I really looked forward to graduation so I could get out of there, and get on with my life.
This was only the beginning. My biggest disaster was yet to come…..
******
Right now, I am not ready to talk about what happened to me next because it is just too painful and too awful to divulge to anyone yet. I am finding it necessary to delay talking about it at this time. I do need to tell this part of my story and I will talk about it when I am ready, just not yet…
Chapter 4, Part 5 - 1960
My senior year at Marywood started out really great. I was modeling in Chicago and also was hired for a job in the Cosmetic section at Carson Pirie Scott – a very large upscale Department Store in the heart of downtown Chicago. I was making minimum wage plus commission on the cosmetics I sold. I was the youngest employee in that department. I started working there during the summer in-between my junior and senior years. I had started out as a “temp” and never knew which department I would be working in when I showed up for work each day. I started out working in the gift wrap department which paid off because I learned how to do fancy gift wrapping, plus how to make bows. There were no “ready made” bows back then. I liked working in gift wrap.
Over time, I got a permanent position in the Cosmetic/Perfume department. I had decided to work in a steadier job since modeling was sporadic at best. I spent the summer with my father in Chicago and really hated the ancient run down hotel he was living in, so getting a steady job got me out of there plus gave me an income and kept me busy. I took the bus to and from work and many times worked until 10:00 PM when the store closed. The (Plaza) hotel was about one or two miles from the department store. I remember if I worked a full 40 hour week, after taxes etc I cleared $53.28 per week which was considered pretty good back then. For example you could rent a fairly decent two bedroom apartment for $50.00 a month. Everything was a whole lot cheaper then.
My father still traveled to nearby states and was gone most of the time so I had the apartment to myself a lot. When he was home I had to sleep in a folding cot they would bring to the room. It was a very tiny apartment with a “kitchen” that was behind two folding doors. There was a restaurant in the lobby of the hotel (the “Hasty Tasty”) and we ate most of our meals there or had them delivered to the room. We did very little cooking. It was located on a corner across the street from Lincoln Park – a very large park slightly north of downtown Chicago. The hotel was about two blocks from Lake Michigan. I really hated that place with a passion. I actually looked forward to returning to boarding school!
There was an old movie theater across the street from the hotel and I found myself going to movies often, even watching the same movie over and over again. It was 25 cents to go to the movie there.
My roommate that year was a very sweet girl whose mother was terminally ill so her dad put her in boarding school. It was very difficult for her at home. Her name was Marilyn MacNamara.
Once a year there was a big event to raise quite a bit of money for the school. The students in the drama class would put on a play. At the play there was a program that was handed out with the list of actors and scenes etc. The job of the other students was to sell ads that would go in the program which is what raised the money. It was $100 for a full page ad, $50 for a half page and $25 for a quarter of a page. Many of the students had parents that owned their own businesses so it was quite a lucrative project. It was also easier for the day students to sell ads than it was for the boarders.
Each student had a “quota” of ads they had to sell. The incentive was that they would get a Monday off from school. The students that didn’t sell the quota would be required to come to school and spend all day in “study hall”.
My roommate and I just didn’t know anyone to talk into buying ads. Amazingly, we were the only two students in the entire high school that failed to sell our quota. The boarders were required to come back to school on Sunday nights after the week-ends and Marilyn and I were not only the only two boarders that had to return on Sunday night, but the only two students in the school that were going to have to spend all day Monday in study hall.
When we came back on Sunday night, Marilyn showed up with a fifth of bourbon she had taken from her dad’s liquor cabinet and she planned for the two of us to “party down”. Big, big mistake……
Over time, I got a permanent position in the Cosmetic/Perfume department. I had decided to work in a steadier job since modeling was sporadic at best. I spent the summer with my father in Chicago and really hated the ancient run down hotel he was living in, so getting a steady job got me out of there plus gave me an income and kept me busy. I took the bus to and from work and many times worked until 10:00 PM when the store closed. The (Plaza) hotel was about one or two miles from the department store. I remember if I worked a full 40 hour week, after taxes etc I cleared $53.28 per week which was considered pretty good back then. For example you could rent a fairly decent two bedroom apartment for $50.00 a month. Everything was a whole lot cheaper then.
My father still traveled to nearby states and was gone most of the time so I had the apartment to myself a lot. When he was home I had to sleep in a folding cot they would bring to the room. It was a very tiny apartment with a “kitchen” that was behind two folding doors. There was a restaurant in the lobby of the hotel (the “Hasty Tasty”) and we ate most of our meals there or had them delivered to the room. We did very little cooking. It was located on a corner across the street from Lincoln Park – a very large park slightly north of downtown Chicago. The hotel was about two blocks from Lake Michigan. I really hated that place with a passion. I actually looked forward to returning to boarding school!
There was an old movie theater across the street from the hotel and I found myself going to movies often, even watching the same movie over and over again. It was 25 cents to go to the movie there.
My roommate that year was a very sweet girl whose mother was terminally ill so her dad put her in boarding school. It was very difficult for her at home. Her name was Marilyn MacNamara.
Once a year there was a big event to raise quite a bit of money for the school. The students in the drama class would put on a play. At the play there was a program that was handed out with the list of actors and scenes etc. The job of the other students was to sell ads that would go in the program which is what raised the money. It was $100 for a full page ad, $50 for a half page and $25 for a quarter of a page. Many of the students had parents that owned their own businesses so it was quite a lucrative project. It was also easier for the day students to sell ads than it was for the boarders.
Each student had a “quota” of ads they had to sell. The incentive was that they would get a Monday off from school. The students that didn’t sell the quota would be required to come to school and spend all day in “study hall”.
My roommate and I just didn’t know anyone to talk into buying ads. Amazingly, we were the only two students in the entire high school that failed to sell our quota. The boarders were required to come back to school on Sunday nights after the week-ends and Marilyn and I were not only the only two boarders that had to return on Sunday night, but the only two students in the school that were going to have to spend all day Monday in study hall.
When we came back on Sunday night, Marilyn showed up with a fifth of bourbon she had taken from her dad’s liquor cabinet and she planned for the two of us to “party down”. Big, big mistake……
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Chapter 4, Part 4 - MY TRANSFORMATION
I want to interject something that took me years to figure out and I am certain many readers struggle with. It is a well known fact that it is extremely difficult to lose weight. (Unfortunately, gaining weight is a breeze)! Perhaps what I have learned will help someone else.
In my case, I have come to the enlightenment that dieting is all mental….totally. If you are motivated to really want to lose weight, then nothing can stop you. If you don’t have a deep motivation and a strong desire, then it is easy to keep coming up with excuses as to why you can’t seem to lose weight. I know because I have done that too.
You must have a goal…a specific reason why you want to lose weight…with a reward in the end that comes when you reach your goal. I already told you that both of my brothers weighed over 400 pounds each. Weight problems ran throughout my whole family. It is one of those unfortunate bad genes we all inherited. When you have a specific goal to achieve, you become like a missile….you head straight toward your target and nothing diverts you or makes you waver from heading in that direction.
In my lifetime, I have gained and lost weight many times and it took me a long time to finally figure out that “dieting” wasn’t the answer…motivation is the answer. Your mind controls your body. At about age sixteen, I started thinking that I might like to be a model. I didn’t realize until much later that I was just not born with a model’s body. I am five feet two and don’t have long legs and I have never been as thin as models need to be. You have to be born with a certain body type which you have no control over. It’s a gift from God.
I convinced my father to send me to modeling school. I figured whatever I learned, couldn’t hurt. I would learn beneficial things like how to walk and carry myself. Also important was to learn how to put on make-up and create diverse hair styles. The Model Agency (Patricia Vance) also said they try to get the students modeling jobs after they completed modeling school….but only if they were selected to sign a contract with the Model Agency. (The school and the Agency were two separate entities). So, I started taking classes. Somehow, I don’t remember how, I worked it into my daily or weekly schedule. I do recall taking the “L” into Chicago where it let me off right in front of the modeling school.
Upon completion of the course, they did ask me to sign up with their model agency! They explained to me that I was not the “high fashion” model type, but I could do some things such as Catalogs or Commercials and live modeling in some of the large Department Stores in Chicago. One of my first jobs was with the Chicago Tribune Newspaper. They had a fashion section in the newspaper that was printed once a week. I modeled clothing for the newspaper and as a result even appeared on a couple of local TV shows modeling some of the latest fashions.
I really loved it! I was beginning to feel like a celebrity of sorts. The girls and nuns at Marywood saw my pictures in the paper and watched me on the TV shows. On week-ends many times I modeled at the Department stores. They would put me in an outfit and I would walk throughout the store for the customers to see the clothes on an actual live person. I carried a card with all the information about everything I was wearing. In the course of one day I would change into about five different outfits. This all took place in the last half of my junior year in high school plus the following summer. The stores I modeled at were Saks Fifth Avenue, Marshall Fields, Carson Pirie Scott and Bergdorf & Goodman.
Another thing I did that year was enter the Saint Patrick’s Day Parade Queen contest. That Parade is a huge event in Chicago every year and it was quite an honor to be chosen the Queen. The Model Agency recommended that I try out. I didn’t win, but I came in second, which was still pretty good considering how many girls entered the contest. I don’t remember how many but there were at least a hundred in the beginning and there were gradual eliminations over several weeks.
During the years at Marywood, I spent the summers with my sister in Fort Lee, Virginia, where her husband, Jack, was a Lieutenant in the military. We would spend the hot summer days at the Pool at the Officers Club on the Military Base. The first summer I was there I was still quite chubby and no one paid much attention to me. The following summer, I had grown taller and lost about 40 pounds. My brother-in-law always teases me saying he had to fight off all of the soldiers that wanted to take me out (I was 16). He did let me go out once with a soldier that was under his command but gave him a set of rules with lots of “don’ts”. Naturally it had to be kept a secret from my father because he didn’t let my sister date until she was 18 and he wasn’t going to let me date until then either. The Army Base even had a picture of me in a bathing suit by the pool, holding a very large thermometer that read 104 degrees. The picture was in the newspaper published at the Base.
It was while staying with my sister in Virginia when I was 16 that we learned that our mother had passed away from a second stroke. She died in Seattle, WA and we couldn’t go to her funeral. My sister was too pregnant to fly and our two brothers were there taking care of everything.
A funny story I have told for years is about my sister. Beverly was pregnant the second summer I went to Virginia and had to have regular visits to the Obstetrician. On one visit they told her to bring a urine sample with her on her next visit. When we got to the doctor’s office a couple of weeks later, the receptionist told Bev to put her urine sample on the table that was there with all of the other women’s samples. There were at least 20 other “samples” on the table, and they were all in tiny little bottles like the ones you get a prescription in. She brought out this large Mayonnaise jar from a paper bag that must have had a quart of her urine in it! She looked at me, shrugged, and said: “how was I supposed to know? They didn’t tell me how much urine!!” Nowadays they probably supply you will a container to take home. I couldn’t stop laughing every time I saw that huge jar on that table with all the tiny little bottles.
Also at the beginning of 1960, or perhaps the latter part of 1959, I remember reading a large ad in the Chicago Tribune about a new Club that was opening in Chicago. It was called “The Playboy Club” and the ad read something like this: “If you consider yourself one of the most beautiful girls in Chicago, come down and apply for a job working as a Bunny at the Playboy Club”. Included in the ad was a silhouette of a girl in a Bunny costume. You had to be 18 to apply so I wasn’t old enough, and besides, I did not consider myself to be one of the “most beautiful” girls in Chicago! However, it made me curious and intrigued me.
My senior year in high school was a time when two very bad things happened to me. The first one was partly my own doing….but the second was not. Everything was going so well for me. I was looking forward to and felt I was headed towards such a bright future full of hopes, dreams and success.
Unfortunately, my life took a drastic turn that year…..for the worse…. a turn that would have a lasting effect on me forever.
In my case, I have come to the enlightenment that dieting is all mental….totally. If you are motivated to really want to lose weight, then nothing can stop you. If you don’t have a deep motivation and a strong desire, then it is easy to keep coming up with excuses as to why you can’t seem to lose weight. I know because I have done that too.
You must have a goal…a specific reason why you want to lose weight…with a reward in the end that comes when you reach your goal. I already told you that both of my brothers weighed over 400 pounds each. Weight problems ran throughout my whole family. It is one of those unfortunate bad genes we all inherited. When you have a specific goal to achieve, you become like a missile….you head straight toward your target and nothing diverts you or makes you waver from heading in that direction.
In my lifetime, I have gained and lost weight many times and it took me a long time to finally figure out that “dieting” wasn’t the answer…motivation is the answer. Your mind controls your body. At about age sixteen, I started thinking that I might like to be a model. I didn’t realize until much later that I was just not born with a model’s body. I am five feet two and don’t have long legs and I have never been as thin as models need to be. You have to be born with a certain body type which you have no control over. It’s a gift from God.
I convinced my father to send me to modeling school. I figured whatever I learned, couldn’t hurt. I would learn beneficial things like how to walk and carry myself. Also important was to learn how to put on make-up and create diverse hair styles. The Model Agency (Patricia Vance) also said they try to get the students modeling jobs after they completed modeling school….but only if they were selected to sign a contract with the Model Agency. (The school and the Agency were two separate entities). So, I started taking classes. Somehow, I don’t remember how, I worked it into my daily or weekly schedule. I do recall taking the “L” into Chicago where it let me off right in front of the modeling school.
Upon completion of the course, they did ask me to sign up with their model agency! They explained to me that I was not the “high fashion” model type, but I could do some things such as Catalogs or Commercials and live modeling in some of the large Department Stores in Chicago. One of my first jobs was with the Chicago Tribune Newspaper. They had a fashion section in the newspaper that was printed once a week. I modeled clothing for the newspaper and as a result even appeared on a couple of local TV shows modeling some of the latest fashions.
I really loved it! I was beginning to feel like a celebrity of sorts. The girls and nuns at Marywood saw my pictures in the paper and watched me on the TV shows. On week-ends many times I modeled at the Department stores. They would put me in an outfit and I would walk throughout the store for the customers to see the clothes on an actual live person. I carried a card with all the information about everything I was wearing. In the course of one day I would change into about five different outfits. This all took place in the last half of my junior year in high school plus the following summer. The stores I modeled at were Saks Fifth Avenue, Marshall Fields, Carson Pirie Scott and Bergdorf & Goodman.
Another thing I did that year was enter the Saint Patrick’s Day Parade Queen contest. That Parade is a huge event in Chicago every year and it was quite an honor to be chosen the Queen. The Model Agency recommended that I try out. I didn’t win, but I came in second, which was still pretty good considering how many girls entered the contest. I don’t remember how many but there were at least a hundred in the beginning and there were gradual eliminations over several weeks.
During the years at Marywood, I spent the summers with my sister in Fort Lee, Virginia, where her husband, Jack, was a Lieutenant in the military. We would spend the hot summer days at the Pool at the Officers Club on the Military Base. The first summer I was there I was still quite chubby and no one paid much attention to me. The following summer, I had grown taller and lost about 40 pounds. My brother-in-law always teases me saying he had to fight off all of the soldiers that wanted to take me out (I was 16). He did let me go out once with a soldier that was under his command but gave him a set of rules with lots of “don’ts”. Naturally it had to be kept a secret from my father because he didn’t let my sister date until she was 18 and he wasn’t going to let me date until then either. The Army Base even had a picture of me in a bathing suit by the pool, holding a very large thermometer that read 104 degrees. The picture was in the newspaper published at the Base.
It was while staying with my sister in Virginia when I was 16 that we learned that our mother had passed away from a second stroke. She died in Seattle, WA and we couldn’t go to her funeral. My sister was too pregnant to fly and our two brothers were there taking care of everything.
A funny story I have told for years is about my sister. Beverly was pregnant the second summer I went to Virginia and had to have regular visits to the Obstetrician. On one visit they told her to bring a urine sample with her on her next visit. When we got to the doctor’s office a couple of weeks later, the receptionist told Bev to put her urine sample on the table that was there with all of the other women’s samples. There were at least 20 other “samples” on the table, and they were all in tiny little bottles like the ones you get a prescription in. She brought out this large Mayonnaise jar from a paper bag that must have had a quart of her urine in it! She looked at me, shrugged, and said: “how was I supposed to know? They didn’t tell me how much urine!!” Nowadays they probably supply you will a container to take home. I couldn’t stop laughing every time I saw that huge jar on that table with all the tiny little bottles.
Also at the beginning of 1960, or perhaps the latter part of 1959, I remember reading a large ad in the Chicago Tribune about a new Club that was opening in Chicago. It was called “The Playboy Club” and the ad read something like this: “If you consider yourself one of the most beautiful girls in Chicago, come down and apply for a job working as a Bunny at the Playboy Club”. Included in the ad was a silhouette of a girl in a Bunny costume. You had to be 18 to apply so I wasn’t old enough, and besides, I did not consider myself to be one of the “most beautiful” girls in Chicago! However, it made me curious and intrigued me.
My senior year in high school was a time when two very bad things happened to me. The first one was partly my own doing….but the second was not. Everything was going so well for me. I was looking forward to and felt I was headed towards such a bright future full of hopes, dreams and success.
Unfortunately, my life took a drastic turn that year…..for the worse…. a turn that would have a lasting effect on me forever.
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