I likewise spent some time angling, though this regrettably had nothing to do with fish. It happened in Malibu at the rented beach house of three swimsuit models. In accordance with the restraining order filed against me in California, what occurred there can be recounted only in a fictionalized form, and I do so on page 200. All parties are forbidden to comment further. Can we just move on?
Very well. You will notice that this issue is peopled with professional athletes, as well as models in various stages of undress. (By the way: Undress is believed to be a contraction of Ursula Andress, who as a Bond girl named Honeychile Rider wore history's most memorable bikini in Dr. No. It was accompanied by a hip holster that held a hunting knife and generally looked more in keeping with J.R. Rider than H. Rider. But I digress.)
In Hawaii, for instance, we photographed members of the women's beach volleyball tour (page 216). They are among the few professional athletes to actually compete in bikinis, including, of course, the mysterious Swedish Bikini Team members, whose "sport" was about the only thing never made explicit by those beer commercials in which they starred.
Of course, Hawaii itself is not so much associated with bikinis as it is with grass skirts. So we commissioned a designer to combine the two concepts. The result is worn on page 194 by Chandra North (in a grass bikini, by Mother Nature, $5 a square foot). We believe it is the future of swimwear. But seriously: "Who did design the grass bikini?" I asked swimsuit issue editor Elaine Farley. "Monsanto?"
"Moschino," she corrected me.
I am not making this up. The suit was "grown" by the Italian clothing design firm of Moschino, which suggests that you wash on gentle cycle and lay flat to dry.
While looking into bikinis, as it were, I happened upon the seaweed bikini, macramé bikini, vinyl bikini, string bikini, mink bikini, rubber bikini, monokini, Brian Hyland's Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini, Chanel's infamous "eye-patch" bikini and the irrepressible tanga, "thong" or "dental-floss" bikini, responsible for the crack epidemic on Brazilian beaches. But none were so intriguing as the grass bikini, and I for one think we blew a rare opportunity in neglecting to have Steffi Graf pose in her best surface, rather than on it.
That's right. Now it can be told: Graf is our Fräulein February, having been photographed in a double-secret-probationary shoot in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, last December (page 178). Everyone agrees that she looks wunderbar, which reminds me: Wonderbra model Eva Herzigova also helps us pay homage to Bikini Atoll by barely wearing a bikini atall, on page 134.
How's that? You say you'd like to turn to those photos straightaway? Then I'll cut my remarks short. I had so much more to tell you about swimsuits, but it's obvious we're not on the same page here. (Probably in the most literal sense of that phrase. You turned to Tyra Banks 10 minutes ago, didn't you?)
What's the use? You say, "Moschino"; I say, "Monsanto." You say, "Wonderbra"; I say, "Wunderbar." Moschino, Monsanto, Wonderbra, wunderbar. Let's call the whole thing off.