What I am about to admit here is monumental.
And before you even think it, I’m going to quash the notion that I’m making this admission out of respect for my wife. While I have a great deal of
respect for my wife (we’ve been married for nearly 14 months, by the way), she does not mandate my reading, or in this case looking, habits or censor my material. Just last night I was looking at some old “Real Detective” magazines. Saucy stuff.
So I am free to look at whatever I choose, which includes the annual “Sports Illustrated” swimsuit issue, which arrived in our mail Wednesday. I wasn’t home to pick up the mail, so this time my wife did. And she put the magazine in the same place she puts all of my magazines, in a magazine basket in my office. It’s not really a “magazine” basket, per se, because other things can be placed inside. But because she puts my magazines in the basket, I have chosen to call it a magazine basket.
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yeah, the SI swimsuit issue just doesn’t do it for me anymore. I mean, how many gorgeous young women dressed scantily, to say the most, can you look at?
So as I turned the pages today, I was struck by how much I wasn’t being drawn in. Sure, the women are beautiful. And tan. And curvy, as us old-timers like to say. But the SI swimsuit issue seems so 1980 to me.
Cheryl Tiegs and Elle MacPherson and Christie Brinkley were my girls. I say “my girls” in an innocent way, because I know my wife reads my blog. Oh, and Rachel Hunter and especially Kathy Ireland, my all-time favorite.
But what I like about the issue nowadays isn’t the skin, it’s that it signals the beginning of spring. I know, spring is still more than a month away. But the pictures of all the girls in all of the sun without all of the clothes – they make me think of spring.
The problem is – I guess it’s a problem, I’m not really sure – is that spring is about all I think about when it comes to this particular issue of SI. Last year, I don’t even think I perused the swimsuit issue before putting it somewhere soon forgotten. I opened the 2012 edition only so I could have some background before I started writing this blog post.
And having looked at every page, I’m left feeling empty. I’m left thinking how old it must get for these models to pose for these pictures all day long in the pulsating heat and tropical wonder of such places as Panama, Zambia, Victoria Falls, Australia and the Seychelles, wherever the heck that is. In many of the poses, the models are put in what looks to be uncomfortable positions. Many have on or both arms stretched above or behind their heads. I might ask my wife to try it later, who knows?
Arms, I have deduced, are a big deal when it comes to swimsuit modeling. As you’ll notice in the cover shot of Kate Upton, her left arm is raised behind her head, exposing an arm pit. Exposed arm pits are another big deal, it appears, because there are many in the swimsuit issue.
I’m told just to get one usable shot can require hundreds, if not thousands, of camera clicks. Everything has to be just right. There cannot be a hair out of place.
In a continuing swimsuit issue trend, female athletes are the victims – I mean, recipients – of body painting. It’s an art form in which someone with paint and a brush paints the nude bodies of soccer player Alex Morgan, golfer Natalie Gulbis and swimmer Natalie Coughlin, to make it look as if they’re wearing a swimsuit. I swear, as long as I looked, I could not tell that was paint on those places.
In related news, 83 percent of high school boys now list body painting as their career goal. The new big hangout is Sherwin-Williams.
But my enthusiasm for SI’s swimsuit issue is nearly dead. There’s nothing in there for me. It’s just a bunch of pretty faces, legs, arms and arm pits.