The Genius of Playboy

Playboy magazine was born just a few months before I was, and ultimately became a large part of my adolescence. In 1966, when I was twelve years old, Playboy was my pubescent companion--occupying a good amount of my leisure time.

Now lest you think that this entry will be nothing more than a the salacious recollections of a 57-year-old man, please remain calm. Yes, Playboy represented sex to us before we really knew what sex was. But I became captivated by the magazine itself.

Playboy was a groundbreaking example of what the magazine industry could be. It was a visual and intellectual playground, with a distinct personality, distinct point of view, a name and a face. Those last two qualities were provided by its creator, Hugh Marsten Hefner, a brilliant publisher who knew how to get his audience to become one with his product. At a time when magazines were as bland as skim milk and as general as typing paper, Playboy invented lifestyle publishing. That the lifestyle was built on fantasy was beside the point. Playboy made its (male) reader feel special, feel like he was part of a great, national fraternity that set him above the masses in some way.

Apart and aside from the pictures of naked women, the magazine achieved this end through its content. It featured leading authors in the tradition of Esquire in its heyday, and fabulous, thoughtful journalism. I learned more about American culture reading the Playboy Interview (generally a 5,000 word opus) than I did in social studies.

What also made Playboy special was that it was organic--it lived and breathed. A sociologist once pointed out that all great publications convey the idea of a metaphorical family; in the case of Playboy, Hefner was the father, the centerfold was the mother, the writers were the child-craftsmen and the advertisers were the child-clowns. And we, the readers, were the step-children, so wanting to be accepted as a genuine member of the family.

Hefner was (and is) a genius. I think, like Charles Foster Kane, time has passed him by. The great magazine appears to be a parody of itself now, although I've hardly more than glanced at an issue in years. Hefner himself looks like a doddering old fool when you see him on E! cavorting with 22-year-olds in his famous pajamas.

But there was something magical and exciting about his creation(s)--every issue, he brought you something of the expected and the surprising, the two most important ingredients for a successful publication.

I am, of course, far further down on the publishing food chain than Hefner was (is). But I take some small pride in integrating a little of his magic in the publishing that we do.