The Bunny Years (48 page)

“I didn't buy into the feminist thing, either. Women are women. Throughout the centuries they've put themselves into bustles and hoops, wound bands around their breasts and worn peculiar shoes—whatever the fashion of the moment decreed. Compared to all that, the Bunny costume was an artistic masterpiece. But Bunnies made a good target for women who wanted to picket for equal rights and equal pay. They were angry, rightly enough, but we were the wrong target. They decided we were being exploited without taking into consideration that we were exercising choice.

“Besides, it was a great adventure—and very glamorous. I remember waiting on Judy Garland and one of Bing Crosby's sons.

“A friend once introduced me to his mother who had been a Ziegfeld Girl, a lovely, animated woman who was full of stories about the bootleg days. When we met I was in my early 20s and she was in her 60s, but we talked together like contemporaries, discussing the mystique of glamour and the quality of making everything look effortless.

“There is no question some women stayed on past their prime as Bunnies. Some of us began to think of ourselves as celebrities rather than cocktail waitresses, and didn't
want to give up that status. Once Playboy became more than a short-term means to another career goal, being a Bunny was a pretty dismal prospect. I experienced that emotional pitfall. Once I'd completed my education, I put it off looking for work in my field because I was hooked on the excitement, money, connections, glamour and everything else about the lifestyle I'd come to know as a Bunny. Some of us just had to be booted off the merry-go-round.

“When the Club closed for renovation in September 1974, our union negotiated severance pay for those not rehired for the reopening. I was asked to return but decided to take the severance pay instead and finish grad school. It was time to do something useful for society—and me. I was motivated to get my master's degree in psychiatric nursing as much to help myself as anyone else. Jadee Yee, the Bunny Mother, stood up for us—and gave us a wake-up call when we needed it. I owe her a debt of gratitude for rocking me out of my complacency.

“Now that the youngest of my three sons is in elementary school, I'm going back to my nursing career.”

P
ATTI
C
OLOMBO

I
felt like a starlet. Only the crème de la crème were hired to be Bunnies, and it made me feel very special. I worked as a Bunny from 1963 to 1974, and it took me another 10 years to get over not being at Playboy.

“Before becoming a Bunny, I had been modeling junior boutique clothes on Seventh Avenue. My fiancé took me on a date to the Playboy Club, which had just opened a few weeks earlier, and said, ‘Why don't you get a job here?' I was married most of the time I worked at Playboy. My life changed so little in those years; instead of modeling clothes, I put on a Bunny costume and served drinks. But the money was better; men who were supporting families did not earn the kind of money 19-year-old Bunnies made at Playboy.

“I loved going to work every day and being among the other girls. I felt good about myself.

“We had to weigh in every day; if you gained weight, you were suspended until you dropped the pounds. It was the price of being a starlet. I remember going in for costume fittings and begging Betty, the seamstress, to ‘make it tighter, as tight and skimpy as possible!' Everyone wanted the smallest waist in town. You had your costume made so tight that your legs would fall asleep. And you would stuff, stuff, stuff your bosom.

Patti Colombo, president of Patco Software Supplies, in her Manhattan office.

“I was nervous, absolutely terrified all the time, that I'd come to work on a Saturday night and find myself off the schedule. I'm not sure it's a bad thing to be kept on your toes. I liked having to abide by the rules because it meant everyone else had to do the same. It kept the standards up.

“We knew management was dying to get rid of the senior girls. One day Jadee, the Bunny Mother, told me that I'd probably be one of the Bunnies let go soon. Each day I'd go to work feeling terrible, afraid the end was near, but happy for whatever time I had left. Week after week, I'd find my name still on the schedule. Months later, when I was finally told I was working my last day as a Bunny, I was devastated.

“That day, Ricky Waller, my best friend, and I stuffed my costumes in a bag and walked out. Ricky and I went to one of the nearby restaurants to have a drink and agonize over the fact that I wasn't going to work at the Club anymore. I cried. I was hysterical. I hadn't looked for another job. As the weeks wore on, I had deluded myself that I could prolong the end forever.

“I understood room had to be made for the new girls. Those of us who had racked up seniority made more money because we were able to choose our own schedules. Seniority, in fact, was one of the issues we had won through our union, but I was one of the women who didn't walk the picket line because I was afraid it might jeopardize my job. After I was terminated (and that was the word management used), it was incredible to me that I was no longer a Playboy Bunny. I was 32 years old.

“I've stayed close to the other Bunnies; it was a sisterhood. At first I worked at the English Pub on Seventh Avenue with a lot of the other ex-Bunnies and room directors, and also modeled shoes. I then turned my life around completely by entering the burgeoning computer business. A few years ago, I started my own company, Patco Software Supplies. Although I'm proud of my success in this field, I'm still amazed I didn't go into some aspect of the beauty industry. Glamour has always been my thing. When Dynasty was on the air, I loved being stopped in the street by people mistaking me for Joan Collins. I still wore false eyelashes until 1995, when I finally gave them up. But everything is deglamorized now—even I wear jeans and T-shirts.

“Recently my mother threw away one of my costumes—and this was a woman who saved everything, so I thought they would be safe with her. When I discovered the loss, I cried and screamed like a lunatic. I never have cross words with my mother, but I said to her, ‘You just threw away part of my life! How could you have done such a thing to me?' Fortunately, I have one costume left, and a set of cuff links, collar and cuffs. As recently as two years ago, I could still fit into it.”

J
ACKLYN
Z
EMAN

I
n 1967, at the age of 15, I graduated from high school and entered New York University on a dance scholarship. I switched to a premed course at NYU and worked part-time as a cocktail hostess at a bar in the General Motors building across the street from the Playboy Club. One day Oliver, the bartender, told me I ought to be a Bunny because I'd make a lot more money. Well, as a teenager in suburban New Jersey, I was fascinated by the image of glamorous, beautiful Bunnies in the pages of Playboy. I used to watch Playboy After Dark while baby-sitting. The women wearing slinky dresses and sitting around playing backgammon on the show represented a whole sophisticated, grownup world to me. I wanted to be a part of all that. Oliver got me an appointment with Jadee, the Bunny Mother, and I was hired.