From the New York Times: “…the city has a centuries-old tradition of solo exploration, personified by the flâneur, or stroller. Flânerie is, in its purest form, a goal-less pursuit, though for some it evolved into a purposeful art: Walking and observing became a method of understanding a city, an age. Baudelaire described the flâneur as a passionate spectator, one who was fond of ‘botanizing on the asphalt,’ as the essayist Walter Benjamin would later put it.”

Okay, so where am I?

Whelp, I’m not in Paris, but in a few paragraphs we will be transported there…hang tight.

Actually, I am still home in the beautiful confines of my Encino California Compound. Other that to get my mail, bread, and fresh fruit, I have been sequestered here riding out the Coronavirus since the Los Angeles-mandated prohibition started two weeks ago on my birthday.

In addition to missing out on a pretty stellar Disneyland birthday, I had two Japanese commercials wiped out because of the travel ban (postponed, not cancelled) and now I am having NBA and NHL withdrawals along with some severe cabin fever. Thank goodness— along with my family, friends and colleagues—I am safe.

I was planning to meet Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model, because the last time I spoke with her she was at the Baghdad Café lamenting bout trying to due her clothesless craft amongst families and kids roaming around the tourist trap over two years ago. But with all of the city shutdowns, we had to cancel and move to a video conference to catchup. Ah, the new world of “Stay At Home” work and friendships.

So just to catch you up—or you can scroll all the way down to end and read the previous columns— Margrét is a nude model who travels the world taking her clothes off in the pursuit of her art. It’s never going to make her rich, but it makes her happy and a happy Margrét makes the world a better place…

Media Guy: You usually stick close to the Western USA, but is it true you are stuck outside the country?

Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model: I would say luckily I was in France when all of the Coronavirus lockdows and travel bans went into effect, but Paris is a drag without all of the cuisine and museums and sights.But I’m making the best of it trying to go all Hemingway with my introspective writing at abandoned city sites soaking in the essence of the land.

MG: What were you up to before for the country ground to a halt?

MMNFAM: I was doing my thing with this self-photography exhibition on the French Countryside when, well, imagine four dudes breaking down 300 meters from my camera lens in their big Mercedes hauler. Now imagine then not knowing how to fix their hauler and I roll up on them to help. Except I wasn’t wearing more than a Nikon lens cover! I bet they never expected help to come in the form of an intrepid nude model.

MG: But I imagine that’s exactly what happened, right? And how did you pull that off?

MMNFAM: Imagine the look on these French bros’ faces when a second nude model, my roommate, rolled up in an Aston Martin with a back seat full of tools. I’m telling you, it was like MacGyver met French Baywatch. The only thing mission was were our red one-piece swimsuits so that we could have run over in slow motion. I’m guessing they were fairly pleased with two mostly nude chicks fixing their timing belts while the fought to keep their jaws from dropping.

MG: I’ve often wondered about the fine line you’re walking when it comes to nude modeling because some of the readers say you are reinforcing sexist stereotypes of scantily clad women (or unclad) women on film.

MMNFAM: It’s what I battle with on a regular basis with my modeling, because what is considered arty can be pretty hokey and sexist. But I figure God blessed me with a certain look and I get to control my destiny with what I charge and the situations I ultimately wind up in. At the end of the day, it’s a more honest living that some of the mucky-mucks in banking or on Wall Street.

MG: You’re doing well these days?

MMNFAM: My modeling affords me an income to support my home and my adventures. I stay off social media to avoid stalkers and weirdos and in the last five years I have shot in 31 countries. It’s a great way to make a living,

MG: What has shaped up as your specialty as of late?

MMNFAM: My specialty is artistic nudes, when translated to the layman means non-erotic nudes set in contrast against the landscapes of the world. Everyone wants this fit brunette against beautiful scenery. I love the work because it gets me outdoors. I don’t have to sit at a desk answering emails all day ad in turn I get to experience the remarkably attractive world that few ever get to see like I do. Modeling gets old pretty quick, I feel like exploring the outdoors doesn’t.

MG: What is it about the outdoors that has kept you employed all of these years?

MMNFAM: Guys will forever have a curiously mysterious hard-on for a curvy, firm backside in a ruptured landscape. I do a lot of posing in fantasy landscapes—mountains, lakes, log cabins—but the ones that garner the biggest paydays come from the most dilapidated settings like old warehouses, crumbling buildings, salt mines, abandoned parks, civil wars zones. There must be something about rotting cities that is some sort of aphrodisiac that appeals to many a photographer. The contrast of luscious nubile skin against corroded timeworn building carcasses is an age-old fantasy that will probably never go out of style. Like the Birth of Venus painting only set in Chernobyl.

MG: So your quest for post-apocalyptic ruins has taken you on a journey all over the world?

MMNFAM: With a little bit of investigating, you can find some truly extraordinary rubble to photograph and when it comes to ruin nude modeling, the Baltics and Eastern Europe are pretty much the gold standard. It’s like a Disneyland of desolation and tetanus. These areas are some that you’ve only heard about in the deep recesses of the news and now the whole region has essentially been ignored and neglected due to its being left in a state of disrepair after the boys took their weapons and petty differences and went home.

MG: And you’re finding the same in Paris?

MMNFAM: Oh no, much different here. A did a month-long series in and around Paris, fully-clothed doing a full-on Greta Garbo meets Breakfast At Tiffany’s motif. You know, it was easy to surrender in Paris to the moment. The alchemy of everything metamorphosed average activities into pleasurable ones; a stroll in the park, a cappuccino at a sidewalk café…you name it. Here, I dragged the edge of a butter knife across a baguette with a style better suited to gliding a bow across a Stratavarious. And today, with almost nobody around it is still quite the same. I am here on my own. My residence is paid for until July. I worked enough not to book another job until August and I am sponging in the city in my own post-apocalyptic illusion. In a city that has been honing splendor since the reign of Napoleon III, there are immeasurable sensual minutiae—patterns, touches, tints, hums—that can be mitigated, even overlooked, when babbling with someone or following a locked in schedule. Alone. one becomes deeply aware of the resonating clack of high heels in a park walkway; the patina of the gas lamps that light the city, the effervescence of the blue sky on a cloudless day; and how the empty wine bottles laid gently next to the recycling bins are the epitome of your neighbor’s good times.
There is a Paris that acutely repays the individual traveler.

MG: So all of this adds up to another fantastic chapter in the Book of Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model?

MMNFAM: It’s a fantastic book I am living. I hope it never ends. Au revior!

The post Virtually Live From Paris with Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

I know the world is a lunatic cesspool full of bad people, but why do we need so many superheroes? When I was a kid, even until 1989, we got by with the Big Two: Batman and Superman. Now, I am getting all geeked up for Ant-Man and The Wasp (a sequel no less to the original Ant-Man that made Paul Rudd a superhero)…yes Paul Rudd.

Yet I digress…

Things were a lot easier when the Big Two were battling the same super villains over and over again. Now every superhero is a superstar. Take Thor from the planet of Asgard. He wanders around with a mini sledgehammer and was the the ace in the hole in the latest Avengers movie. We all know what happened to him (right?). Batman or Superman would never let that happen.

Blank Panther made a big splash at the box office recently. Until I was dragged to the theater I thought it was a biopic about Bobby Seale or Huey Newton. Everywhere I look there are super heroes getting their own movies, Silver Surfer, Aquaman, The Thing, The Green Lantern. Speaking of the Green Lantern, his power is in his ring, yet the ring is hooked to a battery. I mean, you cannot make this stuff up.

(I guess you quite literally can.)

Serious question: Are the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles super heroes? It’s almost like asking if a hot dog or a wrap is a sandwich. You might get a 50-50 split, yes or no, if you asked 100 people Family Feud-style.

Really, the only super heroes you ever really need is Batman or Superman. And, if you live in the real world, Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model is all you need.

Okay, so where am I?

I’m meeting Margrét in South Central Los Angeles, helping her out with a western hat ad comp she’s trying to get off the ground. I mean, who am I to say no?

(For those of you wondering why she’s a big deal in The Media Guy lore, scroll to the bottom and take the primer and read the three previous columns, including the first one from 2014 which still remains the top post of all time.) And, for regular readers, catch up with the queen of the birthday suit.

Media Guy: I heard a bunch of stories about your showdown with Betty Rage, how did that go down?

Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model: You may recall that last time I mud-rassled, I accidentally ingested some of the chocolate pudding “mud,” and was afflicted with terrible stomach flu afterward. Well, this time I knew better, so made sure to keep my lips shut, and to shower off thoroughly afterward. This rassling experience was better all-around than my last time, which you might recall was slightly scarring since I only got a $40 bid to be my towel boy — well, this time, some poor drunk guy bid $60 on me, and paid up….but he was so wasted that they had to escort him out of the bar before he had a chance to get in the ring with me. So they auctioned me off a second time, and this awesome British dude bid another $60 on me — and he was cool. He helped me defeat my first opponent, Kombat Kitty…but then I faced off against Betty Rage, and she beat me silly. Oh well, you can’t win ’em all!

MG: What a wacky gig! Surely there are better ways to drum up modeling gigs…

MMNFM: In this #MeToo #TimesUp culture, nude modeling has taken a real hit, which is a true shame. One is that historically, with a few exceptions, the nude is mainly a phenomenon of Western art. The other is that from very early on, the nude male and the nude female are treated quite differently and have different roles to play. The male nude body in Greek sculpture was used both for portrayals of ideal heroes – gods and idealized portraits of real heroes, notably the champions at the Olympic games. This brings up another basic aspect of the nude in art, its sometimes uneasy relationship to sexual desire. The entrenched homo-eroticism of ancient Greek society clearly has a good deal to do with the pre-eminence of the heroic male nude. In fact, around the 4th century BC, Praxitales and other sculptors did begin depicting nude females, notably the goddess of love, Aphrodite. But it remained indecorous for female portraits to depict nudity. More generally, a double standard where male and female nudity was concerned, persisted through the period of Roman sculpture and, indeed, right up to modern times, though its terms of reference frequently changed.

MG: So wacky gigs are the way to go?

MMNFM: One final wacky gig I did lately was act as concierge for this group of rowdy drunken Canadian guys who come out every year to play golf and cat around: I caddied for them last year, and they were so taken with me that this year they hired me to arrange everything. The first day, I set up a nude photo shoot with me and my fellow Goddess Collective members up at Red Rock Canyon — we drove the guys out there and posed for female-on-female art shots for a couple hours, and a great time was had by all. Then the next day, we all met up at a local golf course and proceeded to booze our way around the course, taking all manner of salacious photos and engaging in all kinds of naughty shenanigans involving strategically-placed golf tees and lots of puns involving the word “balls.” The final day, we were all supposed to get a cabana at one of the big pool parties, but the weather had turned shitty so we ended up just getting wasted at their hotel Jacuzzi, then going to the nightclub and getting messed up til all hours of the night.

Now, I haven’t set foot in a nightclub since the days when I was working at one…and guess what? It was just as abhorrent an experience as I recalled! This particular place was especially lame and unremarkable — they actually had the gall to hire that tired moron from Jersey Shore, Pauly D, as DJ! Even worse, all the star-struck, farm girls in the crowd were absolutely stoked, holding up their cell phones to capture footage of this momentous occasion. JEEZ!

Still, I’m not sure what happened but I ended up having a fantastic time — I was dressed really sloppily, in leggings and flip-flops (remember, we were boozing at the pool all day), but something happened and I went bat shit dancing, burning about 1,000,000 calories and having a really good time, despite the horrible DJ and lame-ass environment…so I guess it wasn’t all bad! The only downside was, after all that I felt like I’d been hit by a giant alcoholic Canuck bus — I mean, I was exhausted when those guys left! I don’t know how they did it.

MG: You used to be the belle of the ball, working every party which leads to me wondering if there have been any good parties lately.

MMNFM: The best party I went to lately was this amazing Burning-Man-themed bicycle pub crawl organized by one of my neighbors, called Blinking Man. Twice a year, about 300-400 wackos in costumes ride bikes covered in blinking lights all over downtown Vegas, stopping at four or five bars along the way for drinks and fun. This one group carts around a full DJ setup, and we basically have raves in all the parking lots we stop at along the way –

– it’s a RIOT! I went with some of my neighbors and friends, and even my roommate made an appearance, Rollerblading around half-naked in an Indian headdress and a G-string. NICE! All in all I was out til about 2am, pedaling furiously about the streets of downtown Vegas, dancing and drinking and getting merry like Christmas. NO WONDER I’M TIRED — that was my day off!!!

Previous Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model Columns:

NSFW: At the Baghdad Cafe with Margrét>>October 16, 2017

Catching up with Margrét>>March 9, 2015

Nude Modeling>>February 2, 2014

The post The Summer of Superheroes and Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Basically, the spot goes something like this:

• Over Dean Martin’s brilliant rendition of “The Birds and the Bees,” the ole “if it’s a rockin’ don’t come knockin'” adage rolls through the first ten seconds, complete with foggy windows and a magnificent view of what appears to be the suburbs of Los Angeles.
• A sweet-looking, midwestern type couple, baby in tow, appears at the dealership watching their beloved babymaking vehicle roll away with a bigger VW taking its place.
• Cut to the woods with a voyeur owl looking on as the couple saves hotel money to go back to what [apparently] do best.
• The next scene shows the couple with a new baby in hand and their now older daughter saying goodbye to their mobile motel, only to be replaced once again.
• And one we go two more times, until the couple lands safely in a seven-seat Atlas VW… forget the recap, let’s take a look:

As I was saying all that’s needed to make this into a TV show is some nudity and some racy dialogue.  I mean basically VW is saying if you bang a lot in our cars without protection, we will be here with a vehicle to suit your needs. It was then, I actually felt a twinge of guilt feeling this way about this spot that is somehow (and surprisingly) wholesome.

Speaking of nudity, has it really been over two years since we caught up with Margrét, my “New Favorite Amazon Model”*?  Regular readers love the beautiful brash model whom I introduced in my most-read article of all time detailing my experience at a nude modeling class with a big, snakey twist.

Not so nude…also not so safe for work!

As of late, these same readers have been emailing me a lot asking if she’s okay since I haven’t posted a column about her lately. I am happy to report that Margrét is definitely okay. She’s been the feature model in three European art gallery exhibits, went on a five-week spiritual trip to Tibet and Malaysia to find some inner peace, hiked to a plane crash site in the Andies, played a nagging ever-pregnant pilates wife in a straight-to-video NC-17 movie, went to Shanghai Disneyland and built a new bed from scratch. Whew, some would say that “okay” is an understatement.

Jeez, maybe I need to pen a premium cable television show about her and her experiences, which I guess I will get to as soon as my Media Guy script gets it’s long-awaited greenlight to film its pilot episode…here’s to dreaming once again!…yet I digress…


Okay, so where am I?

I’m meeting Margrét at the Baghdad Cafe in Newbury Springs, California just off I-40 about 15 minutes south of I-15. Let’s not confuse this place with the Syria version where I hung out at quite a bit from 2008 through 2010, nor should we harken back to the the short-lived Whoopi Goldberg/Jean Stapleton show that was obviously inspired by one of the two. What makes this typical dusty desert diner noteworthy is that it was at the forefront of a pretty crappy 1980s French/German movie and because of this, the place is a bona fide tourist spot among the Euro crowd. The walls are covered, floor to ceiling with signed headshots (including a nice one from Celine Dion), postcards, stickers, business cards, and just about anything you can imagine could be stuck on a wall.

Not Syria’s version….

Honestly, I wouldn’t have picked this spot to be the backdrop of any nude photo shoot, or any other for that matter, but Margrét cared to differ…

Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model: I’ll agree the cafe is not really an ideal spot for nudes since there are a ton of people and kids hanging around. But next door there’s a cool abandoned motel next door. For the right audience, this place is a real winner. Also, down the road are some incredible sand fields that are great for sunset shoot.

Media Guy: Sounds like you’ve got the right vision for what you want, but have you ever wanted something different?

MMNFAM: I always thought it would be über-cool to be one of those nomad gypsy-type models. So when one of my favorite French photographers invited me to come shoot some advance guard setups in Shanghai, I decided to make it a modeling roadie. I posted a casting call on Model Mayhem, and next thing you know, I have five days of shooting lined up at a rate quadruple to my US rates. Six months of pay in one work week.

MG: So just you on the road with your French photographer?

MMNFAM: My sis agreed to come along with me, so we could to make it a real adventure and the hope was that having her there would deter the really freaky affluent amateur photographers

MG: Does it get freaky often?

MMNFAM: Not all my gigs are freaky, though. I actually do a few normal, “nice girl-type” jobs. You know, just to keep my nice-girl skills from rusting over. One night I worked a charity fundraiser wine-pouring event for this smoking hot Australian winemaker, who used to be a rugby star but retired to open a winery in the south of Portugal. Anyway, he only showed up for photos at the beginning of the event, and then delegated the job to his assistant, this adorable little Romanian hottie who took a liking to me. I offered to give him a ride back to his hotel after the event, because there were no taxis at the venue, and to thank me for my help he hooked me up with two cases of bad-ass high class Canadian wine that I flipped into suite tickets to a Katy Perry concert. SCORE!

Not this one either…

MG: Nothing freaky at nice girl events?

MMNFAM: More than what happens is who attends these nice girl events. I was a little nervous about pouring high class wine for all these cork-sniffers. After all, this is a well-known event they hold every year, and the Hamptons Society of Botoxed Frankenmatrons who come out to show off their new breasts, lips and foreheads while spilling their fancy-talk about decorating, wine, and new sculpture commissions while their husbands perv on all the model servers.

MG: Does this ever worry you?

MMNFAM: I didn’t need to be worried. Everyone was so freaking wasted it was embarrassing. These dumb-ass poseur chippies would stumble up to my table with their wineglasses held out for a pour, and the Romanian hottie would start blathering about the notes of oak and flowers, and you could see these clueless socialites had zero idea what was being said — nor did they care, they just wanted to get wasted for free. Some kind of collagen-plumped power trip.

MG: But these good girl events sure must be better than doing convention center trade shows you once loathed.

MMNFAM: Very good memory! I always loathe the trade show. I worked one recently that wasn’t so bad because I was working with a girlfriend of mine who makes things fun. Pass along this note:

Dear Prospective Trade Show Clients: if you are looking to hire a model for your booth, please consider hiring two of us! I find that two models are waaaaaaaaaay more effective than one, because we can tag team these poor conventioneers on a $50 a day per diem and hustle them into signing up for your iPad drawing or whatever-the-hell grifter scheme you have going to generate leads. Yep, much MORE effective!

Anyway, the  best part about working these events is the corporate balderdash they have you parrot, to hypnotize in prospective leads. At this on I was told to say that “we” (and by “we,” I mean the client, not “me”) are a cloud-based project management solutions platform. Now, you tell me….what the hell is a “cloud-based project management solutions platform?

Yes, this one!

What’s really fascinating is that you would think that booth models who actually grasp what they’re saying would be the most effective, but, of course you’d be wrong. It doesn’t matter one bit if the model understands the first thing about cloud-based project management solutions platforms, or CBPMSPs, as long as she’s attractive, personable, and calls the guy by his name as seen on his name tag). Really, as long as she’s hot, she can pretty much talk him into signing up for anything.

MG: I should assume you have seen this regularly…

MMNFAM: Oh yes, I’ve seen this firsthand all of the time! Take this Bulgarian model I was working with. First, you can be assured that she was hired without ever speaking with her. She was beautiful, super flirty and very aggressive. But her accent was so thick that I’m 99% certain that all of the guys she hustled in had no idea what was going on. They just did what she wanted, because she’s hot, persistent, and was wearing the clothing minimums. She could have been signing them up for chemical castration for all they knew. I really like working with her because she’s a lesson on how to do it right.

MG: And how is the payday?

MMNFAM: They do pay pretty well and I get to keep my clothes on. CBPMSPs aside, they can be fairly interesting every now and again. But I do have to tell you that I have a difficult time getting those gigs, because when it comes time to apply, I have very few “decent” photos I can submit, like a quality headshot. I mean a quality headshot can cost you $250 and I have to admit I pretty cheap.

MG: No headshots among your entire portfolio?

MMNFAM: I mean I have thousands of of photos, but in most of them I’m nude or wearing a some sort of Crusaders helmet or something. So, you know, I can’t use them to get nice girl work. So I can get some low hanging fruit work, I booked a session to get square shots. But good gawd, it’s so boring. I shot with my one of my favorite photographers last month for the sole purpose of getting a boring-ass headshot, but things escalated quickly. The next thing you know, I was doing gymnastics on the scaffolding wearing nothing but a Michael Myers mask. I just can’t seem to keep it together long enough to be normal.

MG: So what happens when you can’t be normal?

MMNFAM: The easiest solution to this predicament is to dial up the unorthodox gigs. I did one where you are supposed to be in a snazzy furniture Beverly Hills showroom and the models replace the furniture. This was one of the most bizarre shoots I ever did. It was a thirty-minute video with no dialogue, great lighting, and I was just sitting there with nothing on holding a telephone and an office plant while standing in for a designer desk. Weird! I can’t believe I got paid to something like this….weird!

———

* Previous Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model Articles:

Introduction: Nude Modeling
Part Two: Catching up with Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model

The post NSFW: At the Baghdad Cafe with Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

I’m down on the ground once again. And not a second too soon because flying coach is a special trip to hell. I have to tell you that years of flying business and first class has spoiled me to the point where I need my mimosa before taking off or the whole experience is a bust.

Guess who was the loudest a-hole on my flight?

My flight featured a guy who insisted on being overly loud and half-naked, a twentysomething reading the latest issue of Guns & Ammo (always refreshing in a post-9/11 apocalypse), a psychic in the back of the plane doing some seance with her entourage in the back of the plane, candy bar lunches, and (rumor has it) Nicki Minaj in my business class seat.

Apparently Ms. Minaj took a break from her various Twitter scorned earth campaigns to harass a couple of the first class flight attendants. The stories of her belittling behavior floated back to the cheap seats pretty fast with reports of her ordering vodka cranberries at warp speed and once the flight attendant delivered the drink, she would take a single sip and demand another. She wasn’t alone, as her entire crew did the same thing until all of the mini bottles were gone.

Yeah, uh, you stay classy San Diego!

This story prompted a long overdue visit with one of my best buddies: Flight Girl Daniela. I know what you are thinking, “Flight Girl”?, why in the world would I call her that? You I know she’s a flight attendant. However, sorry folks, Daniela doesn’t take herself that seriously and actually makes passengers call her Flight Girl. For those of you who don’t know, the two columns we teamed on (December 2012’s “Flying the Friendly Skies” and April 2014’s “Daniela::Deux”) are still ranked in the top 10 Media Guy Struggles all-time reads, combining for 200,000+ page views.

We met at a Hollywood deli. She had the matzo ball soup and I had bagel chips with a side of well-done pickles. She arrived in uniform with perfect make-up and a pilot’s hat she lifted from her last flight with the promise to return it at her leisure. I asked her about Nicki’s action in first class and she said that’s normal for a the divas. She reported that even the divas of yesteryear can be a nightmare when the drink orders come in.

“One of the legendary stories they always tell us is about Lucy (Lucille Ball). On flights, no one could not speak to her, even for drink orders — you had to ask her assistant what Lucy wanted to drink. Another time, one of our sisters in flight accidentally dropped a glass of water on her and Lucy insisted it was okay, but when another glass was delivered, Lucy tossed the contents in her face and screeched, ‘How do you like it now?'”.

None of all of this bad behavior bothered the flight attendants (aka stewardesses, aka sexy stews) of the 1950s, 60s and 70s more than the way airlines used women and sex to sell air travel. There was even a secret public relations push to glorify the Mile High Club to make being in the air sexier that being on the ground.

“From objectifying women as maps to the promise of someone getting a wife out of their cross-country flight, airlines have long used women to sell tickets'” says Daniela.

With that, we spent lunch talking about fifteen of the most recognizable Triple S (“Sex Sells Seats”) ads that appeared in the pages of some of the biggest magazines ever in print:

1. Finnair – Summer Routes Ad (1968). No need for a real map. Use the back of a curvy brunette. Once you get to Finland, you can plan your pleasure route.

2. United Airlines  – The former Miss Butterfingers Ad (1967): The ad reads “…two months ago, Sheri Woodruff couldn’t even balance a cup of coffee. But she was friendly, intelligent, and attractive…” I am so glad she was at least attractive!

3. United Airlines – Old Maid ad (1967). They called her an old maid because she’s been flying for almost three years! None of that matters because “…everyone gets warmth, friendliness and extra care. And someone may get a wife…” Wow, coffee, tea or a wife! Sheesh!

4. PSA Airlines – Famous Stewardesses Radio ad (1969). Imagine hearing this on the radio today: 

“Right now PSA, the airline that is famous for its stewardesses, is looking for girls. Yes..girls to fill a cute orange mini-uniform…girls who smile and mean it…girls who give other people a lift. Now if you’re single, 18 1/2 to 26 years old, 5 foot 1 to 5 foot 9, 105 to 135 pounds, have a high school diploma or better–come in for an interview at the Los Angeles International Airport stewardesses department Tuesday or Thursday. PSA is an Equal Opportunity Employer” 

Yeah, uh, equal opportunity except the age, sex, height, weight, and marital status parts!

5. United Airlines – The Glamorous Life ad (1966). How great is it that that evolved from the specs of the original stewardess?: “Registered nurse, not over 25 years of age, weighing 115 lbs. or less, not over five feet four inches tall.” The consolation is at least they edited out “bride ready’ in the final copy.

6. American Airlines – Beautiful Girls (1967). I mean thank the heavens for American Airlines because they couldn’t possibly ‘…afford the sweet young thing who just stands there…’ and we were so much better for it.

7. United Airlines – Come Back Soon ad (1966): Only on United…a special brand of work prostitution: “You went to sleep after dinner. Why not? You work hard. When the flight landed, the stewardess smiled goodbye like she really meant it. She does. She even straightened your boutonniere. You get this kind of ‘extra care’ every time you fly with us.” What else do you get?

8. TWA – It’s A Man’s World ad (1953). The only airline ad we could find that didn’t devalue women and refused to trade on a woman’s body and racial profile as the core checklist in their advertising campaigns.

9. TWA – Foreign Accents ad (1968). It’s a shame the TWA ads of the late 1960s couldn’t mimic their predecessors from the 1950s. Really, how great would it be to select one of your four hostesses on TWA?: “…they come in four styles with hostesses to match: Italian (see toga), French (see gold mini), Olde English (see wench). And Manhattan penthouse (see hostess pajamas—after all all hostesses should look like this, right?)” Toga? Wench? This is about as low as it gets.”

11. Japan Airlines – How to Train and Airline Hostess (1959). This ad could also be called How to Train Your Future Foreign Wife…take a read: “A Japanese girl is taught from childhood the satisfaction of doing something for its own sake….You feel her real desire to please you, and only you. For she satisfies herself only as she succeeds in making you happy.”

12. American Airlines – Conrad Hilton ad (1966). American somehow tried to justify that women are just products with this stellar copy: “Flying just isn’t much of a thrill for Mr. Hilton anymore. He expects attention for his money.”

14. British Overseas Airways Corporation – all her Suki ad (1964). Isn’t it great she is more thank just beautiful? After all, she “can serve you sake, sushi, and teriyaki steak with ancestral grace.”

—
EDITOR’S NOTE: 
Part 2:
Read part one of Daniela and Michael here.


Part 3:
Read part three of Daniela and Michael here.

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Margrét, my “New Favorite Amazon Model” has become some sort of a cult hero in the Media Guy Struggles Pantheon of characters. Ah yes, Margrét. Many hold her in the highest regard after an appearing in my number one all time story: Nude Modeling. Funny you ask because just hours before I left for my annual Japanese TV show circus trip, we hooked up for lunch to plan some new work.

A lunch with Margrét isn’t just about food. Sure I wanted to eat, but a lunch with her is more about a life lesson on how to be real and a lot less about photography and modeling.

Things are looking up for Margrét…

What’s not to learn? She seems to have somehow cornered the happiness market. She has a bucket of sunshine for a backyard, a full passport, half-a-mill per year coming in (according to her agent), countless private exhibitions devoted to her long, lithe body, a Rolls, a clean arrest record, and an attitude that lulls you into a state of affection.

She met me at her private apartment, which is not like your house (or apartment, private or otherwise).

Her apartment is more like an English flat with a day spa attached. Outside her guest bedroom she has a sumptuous marble and granite fireplace that doubles as a sound machine for the soothing sound of water falling from the heavens. The aroma of essential Dior oils waft through the air. Pitchers of water laced with cucumber abound throughout the space.

She greets me in her modeling smock, which is not like your modeling smock.

Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model (MMNFAM): Well, sir, you must be thrilled! The American Media Guy strolling back into Japan to film some commercials and shoot another season of your show  with just the right amount of cocky.

Media Guy: Well, Margrét, I attended an EPIC party after the Oscars. The local Burning Man group threw a massive 3-day desert party out in Boulder City, and around 600 people showed up to tune in, turn on, and camp out in what basically amounted to a mini version of the real Burning Man. Now, I know Burning Man is basically just a big frat kegger with tutus and hula hoops…but for many people, the whole Burning Man ethos has become a lifestyle and a real community. There are probably at least a thousand Burners (as they call Burning Man habitués) living in Vegas, and our local group is pretty hardcore. Many of them/us meet up all the time for parties, campouts, drum circles, spaghetti dinners and art events. It’s great muse for a new TV show I’m trying to develop.

Psychedelic Polaroids!

MMNFAM: Part of the whole Burning Man culture is sharing your art with others and making an inclusive, interactive experience. I just setup my home studio to share my love of costumes and photography by taking psychedelic portraits with other models that come through. I even ordered a bunch of Polaroid film, so that I could give out hard copies. As much as I love psychedelic polaroids with visitors, nothing can match the Clown Motel!

Media Guy: Clown Motel? Frightening and wildly interesting all at once.

MMNFAM: OMG, this Clown Motel has been on my bucket list forever — every time I drive by it, I literally start drooling with lust: a beat-up-looking old dive motel with clowns all over the facade, like they’re trying to scare away business instead of lure in customers. I love contrarian awesomeness like this and I was lucky enough to book a shoot there to make life just that much more exciting! We drove into the parking lot in the dark, and it was really creepy: the manager’s office is a tiny little wood-paneled room chock full of hundreds and hundreds of clown figurines, clown dolls, Precious Moments clowns and one or two extra-terrifying life-sized clowns sitting around in chairs. Kind of like your grandma’s house, if she was Norman Bates’s insane other roommate. I asked where the shoot was and the clerk handed me the key: “Why don’t you go check out the room first, then come back and let me know if you still want to do the shoot it.” DOUBLE YIKES!! As I went over to check out the room, it was something out of some bad cult horror movie: stained carpet, torn curtains, two black velvet paintings of clowns on the wall. The photographer was ready and the client was munching on M&Ms from the craft service table. So I stayed and it wound up being an incredibly fun day. They are even thing of using me for a new reality pilot Bravo is making.

Make me a bicycle, clown!

Media Guy: I remember a while back you mentioned you might be playing Earth Mother-Goddess soon. Did that ever take off?

MMNFAM: It did happen. I was invited for a shoot at the Ironman World Championship, playing Earth Mother Goddess. This meant that the fittest, most shredded athletes in the entire world were coming out to face off against each other in a bizarre, hairless swim-bike-run race-to-the-death among the crème de la crème of Spandex-clad Type A Caucasians with $18,000 bicycles and too much time on their hands. A quick Wikipedia investigation the night before had revealed that these insane individuals planned to swim 2.4 miles in open seas, after which they would race ashore, dripping with seawater, and mount the aforementioned $18,000 bikes for a 112-mile bike ride through the searing Hawaiian desert…before dismounting and embarking upon a full, 26.2-mile marathon. You might assume it was for the prize money — $120,000 to the winner, who usually finishes in around 8 hours. But there were over 2,200 entrants in this race, and only those finishing in the Top 10 of each gender got any prize money. That means something like 2,120 put themselves through this torture for free. Actually it was worse — they had to pay something like $700 to enter the race, not to mention the cost of gear, airfare and accommodations. So, these people were basically shelling out thousands for the privilege of torturing themselves. Or for bragging rights, I suppose. Ah, the cray-cray stuff white people do!

Well, I’m pretty fit myself — I work out fairly religiously, in a Sisyphean quest to keep my ass up where it’s supposed to be, so I’m pretty well used to being the fittest person, or at least among the fittest people, in any given room. But, for the love of God, what did I sign myself up for?! I was surrounded by superhuman cyborgs in peak physical condition, all of whom were on special low-carb/no carb/protein-heavy diets that surely didn’t allow for any alcohol. I won’t bore you with the rest, but I’ll tell you that it came off pretty good and I even got some R&R in after the grueling sun-drenched shoot.

R&R: Censored!

Media Guy: Not that you squeezed in some rest and relaxation in Hawaii, what exotic things are next?

MMNFAM: Aliens!!! Seriously I have a trip planned up to Area 51 to research a movie role that starts shooting in Germany. I had originally planned to camp out at the drum circle and just sleep in my truck bed, under the stars, and then head to Area 51 from there, but I guess I’m too high maintenance to be that much of a gypsy, because the lure of a hot shower and my comfy bed is too much to resist, so I booked a room at the nearest three-star knowing I couldn’t last all night out there.

Electrified.

Media Guy: Maybe you should be known as queen of the strange shoots.

MMNFAM: Not all my gigs were freaky, though — I actually did a few normal, “nice-girl”-type jobs recently, just to keep my nice-girl skills from rusting. One night I worked a charity fundraiser wine-pouring event for this smoking hot French winemaker, who used to be a rugby star but retired to open a winery in the south of France. Must be nice… Anyway, he only showed up for photos at the beginning of the event, and then delegated the job to his assistant, this adorable little French hottie who took a shine to me. I offered to give him a ride back to his hotel after the event, because there were no taxis at the venue, and to thank me for my help he hooked me up with two cases of high-end French wine. SCORE! I normally drink Coppola or worse, so this is a real treat. Meanwhile, I was kinda nervous about pouring high-end wine for all these cork-sniffers who come to show off their new stuff and whatnot and talk fancy about wine. But I didn’t need to because everyone was so wasted it was embarrassing. These poseur chippies would stumble up to my table with their wineglasses held out for a pour, and the French hottie would start blathering about the terroir and notes of oak and you could see these adies had zero idea what he was talking about…nor did they care.

Media Guy: All of this confirming the fact that you are the queen of the strange shoots.

MMNFAM: I guess there’s no denying that! See you at that wedding next month. Crashing here we come.

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