Harsh? Who sees this as harsh?
Hefner was dedicated to the safety of his Bunnies. They were a significant investment as well as an iconic asset. He knew, perhaps from personal experience, how vulnerable his ladies were. These young women were not hired for their intellect or business acumen (although many had an abundance of both). They weren’t hired based upon their experience interacting with “gentleman” clients. They were hired based on their physical appeal to Hefner. If they passed muster, they were trained and were expected to internalize the rules in the Bunny Book. (I’m sure you can see the parallels between Bunnies and stewardess of the time). Yes, being cosseted in a skin tight, breast busting costume, wearing bunny ears and a bunny tail, as well as wearing absurdly high heels was both uncomfortable and exhausting. But there was no shame in being a Playboy Bunny. And all the costuming, weight checks, and attention to attitude were not nearly as exhausting as dealing with the one or two drunk, horny men during a shift. These attributes were what made good Bunnies worth the high salaries they received. They worked hard and were paid well for their hard work. (And I wouldn’t give too much credence to the Bunny bribery story.)
All of these experiences have to be viewed within the context of the era when the clubs were at their peak. At that time, becoming a Playboy Bunny was an aspiration of many young girls (akin to becoming a model or actress). Bunnies were chic and sexy and received a lot of attention from their clientele (both men and women frequented the club). Wearing the Bunny “uniform” was a fantasy of both young girls and grown women alike. And of course, being featured in Playboy magazine as the Bunny of the month was viewed as the penultimate achievement, the ultimate being named Playboy Bunny of the year. It was the Playboy equivalent of the Miss America contest.
The no-dating rule was widely known and broadly accepted as a requirement for all key-holders (members). It gave the women an easy “screw off, buddy” without being rude. “I’m really sorry *smile ruefully*, but we’re not allowed to date club members.” Yes, the rule was instated in part due to the need to feed the client’s fantasy of the virgin whore. But it was also a means of setting limits for the members. You touch a Bunny and you will be made to hand in your key and leave.
Playboy Bunnies all over the world felt a kinship, and coworkers would get together to socialize, compare experiences, and exchange helpful tips. These groups were the Bunny versions of sororities. For many years following the closing of Playboy clubs, former Bunnies from all over would gather at Bunny reunions, to reminisce, catch up, and retell their war stories to others who could understand and empathize. They didn’t hide in shame for their roles in the Playboy empire. Rather, they took pride in the a shared experience that had been non plus ultra.
(Andrei, once again, I strongly urge you to get feedback from colleagues, friends, associates, etc. before submitting a story for publication. Please don’t continue to make the assumption that your views and beliefs represent all of your readers, or even a majority. And, at the very least, ask a person who has English as their first language to proofread for you. Obviously, I think that your stories are of value. I do follow you.)
