Between Hef and a hard place: My “Playboy” rejection

I have a love/hate relationship with Playboy models. I love/hate them because they’re beautiful (mostly). I love/hate them for their ability to capture a guy’s undivided attention (and I definitely hate to imagine which guys are drooling over them and sticking the pages together). Yet, I’m still frustratingly, unavoidably jealous.

In what appears to be a never-ending quest to find ways to embarrass myself, I signed up for scrutiny last Sunday at the Playboy Club at the Palms. Unlike C. Moon Reed who bravely bared all for just a Playboy casting call, this would be a cake walk. For the Playboy Club Calendar search, I didn’t have to worry about exposing anatomy that’s never seen the light of a camera flash. I needed only show up, take three photos in the club with Joe Fury, fill out a form with my likes and dislikes (likes: sense of humor, great taste in music, people who like llamas; dislikes: drama, bad hygiene, Affliction shirts) and wait to be judged.

This month’s double competition winners (November and December) were being chosen by none other than stylish Brit singer and resident headliner Matt Goss along with his show’s producer and Pussycat Dolls creator Robin Antin. Both know sexy and channel it for a living, so it seemed a fitting pair to rate us ladies. Joining them was 1998 August Playboy cover model and pop culture icon Miss Downtown Julie Brown.

So what was the trio of judges looking for? “Hot girls!” Antin chimed in first. Added Goss, “We’re really looking for someone who is sexy, beautiful and has a lot of charisma,” he told me. “Straight Bond Girl—preferably when she’s walking out of the sea.” Figures the Brit would go Bond. Antin clarified, “I like the classic beauty, like Brigitte Bardot. The classic Playboy look.” And what about Brown? “I just flew in for a drink!” she joked.

Most of the entrants were typical hotties, but not particularly unique. If nothing else, I was probably the tallest chick there, but they weren’t looking for an Amazon woman. Having real boobs also seemed to be a disadvantage. My money was on the top-heavy chick in the nearly see-though white sweater sans bra.

The staff at the Playboy Club whittled it down for the judges to a final ten as to not waste their time with the random tipsy girls entering on a dare, older ladies that simply weren’t Playboy material and oh yeah, me. I wasn’t surprised. With tattoos, earrings and my natural cleavage I’m more Double Down Saloon calendar than Playboy Club anyways.

As it neared 2 a.m., the judges made their decision for Miss November and December. Rounding out the calendar, were Brittani Cal-Williamson for November (aka the braless sweater-wearer) and Raven “Alexis” Armenta of California for December.

In all honesty, I doubt I could get butt naked for Hef’s famous men’s mag, and the false eyelashes and heels I wore for the evening were driving me crazy. I’m just not made for Playboy. ... Although, if I still want to be longingly ogled by legions of men’s magazine subscribers, there is a contest on December 5 at Pure Nightclub to win a photo shoot and appearance in Penthouse. Maybe I’ll enter. If I don’t win, I can start a love/hate relationship with Penthouse models, too.