Welcome, Retro Perverts to

C'mon Over, Honey!

Re-live those exciting, naughty days of fantasizing about your schoolmates' sisters or the alluringly enigmatic bachelorette on your paper-route.  Come back to that simpler time, when the crumbled black and white magazine you found in the woods behind the ball-field became an epiphany. It was an era when women could not only appear to be devoid of pubic hair, but seemingly any sexual organs at all. When pubic hair was visible, it was usually a dense, dreamy thicket of mystery and excitement - not a sterile "mohawk" or clean-shaven affair so ubiquitous in today's largely-uninspired, erotic imagery industry.
  In many neighborhoods, there were "social clubs" in which crusty, generally spooky, old men participated in clandestine and mildly illegal activities, such as playing cards and watching silent "stag" films projected onto dingy, old bedsheets, from rattling 8mm. projectors. You knew there had to be a stack of magazines somewhere in there, reeking of the decay that the acid in the paper inflicted upon the pages - an aroma you would never forget. If you knew someone related to one of the members, there may be a brief entry into the secret hall. Once the men were out of the room or seemed to be looking the other way, you and your friends could search for the hidden treasure of naked ladies. There, at the back of a dusty, veneered cabinet, behind an assortment of cigar cutters, church keys and matchbooks, was that acrid, ill-kept pile of photography magazines. The women in the pictures may or may not have been pretty - it didn't matter - they were, at least, partially naked! You could usually think of someone they vaguely resembled, sometimes they specifically looked like a woman in the neighborhood, or - even better - one of your teachers. These magazines portrayed a fantasy world of nude women, talking on the phone, writing letters, or just sitting upside-down in a lounge chair. Leopard and zebra-skin patterns were abundant - clumsily insinuating the "wild animal" side of the model. There, in these dream-worlds, were all of the "modern" trappings of the day: hi-fi sets, televisions, lava lamps,kidney-shaped tables and ashtrays, and plenty of chrome, leather, vinyl, satin and, of course - fur. One could easily imagine an exotic, private lounge, where women with thick eyeliner and heavily painted brows, doffed their clothing to varying degrees and pranced around in high-heels, smoking cigarettes from the ends of holders, and drinking champagne, martinis and Manhattans while listening and swaying to soft-toned, instrumental mood music.