The Symbiotic Relationship of Feminism and Playgirl
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The Symbiotic Relationship of Feminism and Playgirl

Excerpt from Zipp’s essay in Playgirl: The Official History of a Cult Magazine

Published by Abrams Books and available now on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, this “vibrant and cheeky art book celebrates Playgirl Magazine’s 50th anniversary in style,” writes DNA. “Dive into iconic articles, seductive stories, juicy reader letters and, of course, its most memorable centerfolds flaunting full-frontal male nudes (…) An absolute feast for the eyes and an enjoyable ride.”

When Playgirl was born in 1973, women were empowered to embark on the feminist movement. At the time, women had had the right to vote for only fifty-three years. It was two years prior, in 1971, that the Supreme Court had deemed it illegal for private companies to discriminate against hiring women with school-aged children. And it was in that very same year that Roe v. Wade protected a person’s reproductive rights. Basic human rights were denied, and continue to be denied. Feminism was beginning to solidify its definition, with Playgirl playing an integral part.

At its core, feminism advocates for two kinds of women’s freedoms: those which are legal and those involving self-expression across the spectrum of gender. When it comes to sex, men alone have historically been granted permission to fully and unapologetically express themselves—sometimes at the expense and exploitation of women. It’s the double standard we’ve come to expect, a notion as old as time: men can be viewed as dominant and lead healthy and active sex lives, while women should be more submissive and even chaste.

These views continue to plague society. That’s precisely why Playgirl—its beginnings and its history—remains vital in the narrative of sexual expression and equality.

Playgirl, I believe, was much more than a simple counterpart to what men already enjoyed in strip clubs and nudie mags. The magazine and mission felt different, revolutionary, an assertion of a sexuality that had, until then, been denied. In that very first issue, published in June of 1973 for one dollar, a Playgirl was described as “… independent. Self-confident. Sensuous. Aware. Involved. Ambitious. Sensitive. Loving. Giving. Alive. Liberated. Free.” She was the full expression of liberation without holding back. Almost.

There were high-profile mainstream ads by Maybelline, Pall Mall, Kahlua, and Excedrin. Writers who graced the pages included Cameron Crowe, Gloria Steinem, and Maya Angelou. And men were photographed nude in the first issue, but there wasn’t one image of a penis. Instead, Ryan Macdonald and Lyle Waggoner bared their bodies in coy poses or shielded by bubbles in a tub. It was sexy, subtle, and very ‘70s, and that first issue should be celebrated. However, all this restraint played directly into the dominant patriarchal attitudes of the time, with the magazine posturing as if women didn’t want to see it all, feel it all, experience it all. It failed to take Playgirls to the climax. And thankfully, readers voiced their desires to take the foreplay further. The publishers listened.

Issue two delivered with George Maharis in all his full-frontal glory. As Playgirl learned the desires of its readers, it found its voice—and one that ended up being rather gender-inclusive, at that. It was sex-positive and naughty, fiercely smart and exploratory.

The magazine didn’t always perfectly maintain its original mission. It wavered and experimented, working out kinks and trying on new visions. Each and every woman who worked there imprinted her brand of feminism, her voice, her desires, all in the spirit of representing the vast intricacies and passions we possess. And just like in society at large, the women at the helm of the magazine over the years faced injustices and resistance both in daily life and on the job. However, their commitment to uphold the only magazine of its kind — Playgirl’s tagline is “Entertainment for Women,” after all—never wavered. We’d be remiss without acknowledging all the people who contributed to Playgirl over the years: each of the women in the editorial and art departments who held fast to the magazine’s feminist roots, and all the freelancers, columnists, and photographers who upheld the mission—thank you! It’s a testament to these folks that the values of Playgirl continue to thrive. The work is fueled by those who believe in the full power of women’s sexuality and also the full spectrum of men’s sexuality, and that any reader can delight in the words and images that Playgirl delivers…

… continue reading in The Official History of a Cult Magazine