Playboy

Three years ago my daughter, Anna, was introduced to adventure racing. She was invited to go as the female member of a strong British team taking part in the hardest of all adventure races, the Raid Gauloises. The 10th Raid Gauloises was 847 km in length and took place over 12 days across the Himalayas from Tibet to Nepal. The activities facing the competitors included trekking, mountain biking, hydrospeeding on the Sun Kosi River, canyoneering, canoeing, kayaking, horse riding and whitewater rafting. Anna was really excited at the prospect of sampling all these adventurous and dangerous sports.

The team did well and enjoyed lots of international media coverage. One day Anna rang me and asked if I could order some copies of the September issue of ‘Playboy’ for her. I am well used to being asked to help Anna in way-out situations but this was a new one on me! I was a bit nonplussed, to say the least. Why did she want copies of ‘Playboy’? Had she posed for the magazine? I know my daughter well enough to recognise that she is game for any out-of-the-ordinary adventure. But was I ready to face the local people and friends and relatives if her picture appeared in ‘Playboy’? Mind you, up to then I had never seen a copy of ‘Playboy’. It was an under the counter or high up on the shelf publication, not at all the sort of magazine that a grey-haired woman in her seventies would be buying! I could never fathom how some people can waste time, sitting and staring for ages at page 3 in ‘The Sun’ or page something else in certain other newspapers. These kinds of thrills are well beyond my comprehension but, then, it’s everyone to his own taste.

“Why do you want copies of ‘Playboy’ and why the September issue?” I inquired diffidently.

“Because there is an article on the Raid in it and our team is featured, “ she replied. “You know, Mum. ‘Playboy’ has a serious sports section as well as other types of pictures.”

I hadn’t known that. Perhaps an attractive young woman in a team with four handsome and athletic males, engaged in extreme sports, would be a turn-on for the readers of ‘Playboy”. Is ‘readers’ the correct term or should I say, ‘viewers’?

Anyway, I trotted down to my local newsagent’s where I am well known and asked if they could order the copies for me. My request was greeted with a quizzical half-smile. I explained that Anna was expecting to feature in that issue and I left them guessing as to how she was to appear! They are well used to ordering publications featuring Anna in some adventure or other but this was somewhat different.

When I returned to collect my copy of ‘Playboy’ I had a friend with me and another customer, a lady older than myself, was standing at the counter when I asked if my magazine had arrived. The assistant shouted across to her colleague, ‘Has that magazine arrived?

“ Which magazine?” replied the colleague.

“ Mrs McCormack’s”

“ The only magazine here is a copy of ‘Playboy’”.

“ That’s the one.”

My friend moved away as if she didn’t know me, while the elderly customer walked out of the shop in disgust. The assistant and I opened up the magazine and glanced through it. There was no mention of Anna or her team. We quickly flicked through the pages, doubled up with laughter. Yes, There was a sports page but it wasn't about the Raid. Having ordered the magazines, I had to pay for them and take them home. Anna couldn’t understand, as she had been informed that the article had definitely appeared.

Shortly afterwards, Mike, my husband, and I went for a few days’ break to Dun Laoghaire in Ireland. We were walking along the main street when we came to a little newsagent’s shop and inside we spotted some copies of ‘Playboy’ high up on a shelf with a notice saying ‘back copies available’. I asked the young assistant if she could let me browse through recent issues. She looked at me in surprise and embarrassment and then said that the boss would be in later and would I return and ask him. This I did.

He, too, seemed surprised and puzzled but he obediently fetched a stepladder and took down a pile of the magazines. There I stood, browsing through all those copies of ‘Playboy’. Finally, I said, ‘I can’t understand it. I can’t find what I’m looking for.”

The poor man was standing there, ill at ease and clearly apprehensive. Was he wondering if this old dear was entering second childhood or showing definite signs of senility? Then I decided it was time to put the poor man out of his misery, so I explained the situation. You could sense him relaxing. I couldn’t make out why he had been so uneasy while I was busy browsing.

“Phew!” he said, “You scared the living daylights out of me. I thought you were a Government official about to prosecute me for having these magazines.”

What a laugh we had! Then he told me that if that adventure race were a French-run affair, then the article would have been published in the French, and not in the Irish or British, edition of ‘Playboy’. He explained that each country had its own version. That possibility had never occurred to either Anna or me. Later on, she found out that the article had appeared in the French September issue.

The process of education continues throughout one’s life and learning should be a fun activity. Mine, on that occasion, certainly was! I don’t think I have ever laughed as much as I did over those searches through piles of copies of ‘Playboy’ and I learned new things I hadn’t known about before. I just regret that I hadn’t managed to see the article. I was so proud of Anna’s performance in that tough race.

How would I have felt if I had opened the magazine and seen a nude picture of my beloved daughter in a provocative pose? I think that I would have been disappointed. I know that in the past she has spoken of her indignation at receiving sexist comments while she was a member of her University’s Officers Training Corps. She has always seen herself as something more than a sex symbol and she has always been ready to challenge men on their own ground. I hope she is as proud of her Mum as I am of her. She certainly shared a good laugh with me about my perusal in public of ‘Playboy’! That little deviation from the norm did me not a bit of harm.