Dearest Hef,

I am startled by the changes you recently announced to Playboy magazine’s format. Eliminating nudity is a bolder move than introducing the Marilyn Monroe muff back in 1953. I should applaud your organization for taking this risk, for seeing the future and for acknowledging changes. But I will not. I think you are forgetting something.

The world has changed in many ways. We text instead of talk, we watch instead of listen and borrow instead of earn. But one thing stays the same.

Boys like to see naked girls.

Sure Playboy has to compete with the likes of YouPorn and other more graphic sites that can be accessed from the comfort of one’s home close to lotion and tissues for free. Men are finding their fur burger intake on the rise.

But think about the kids, Hugh!

All those parental controls make finding fun bags increasingly difficult if daddies aren’t squirrelling a copy of this month’s Playboy under their bed. My father still has every one of his Playboy magazines from the day he left for University. Because of the articles.

I saw my first ‘non-mom’ knockers in that closet of boxes. I am certain my brother did too, as did all the neighbourhood kids who came to play in our basement. It was a public service. Now Playboy is forcing our children to stalk the library aisles to find National Geographic back-copies of those topless post-breastfeeding women of Africa. Is that what you want, Hugh?

How are these burgeoning little men going to know the difference between real and fake if you don’t show them the way? Those little cherubs will believe, until it is too late, that like their Moms, all girls have tube sock chesticles with alarmingly large nipples. The startling revelation these whippersnappers will make on that first trip around second base might, well, be embarrassing and unnecessarily messy.

Starting in March 2016, I predict a dramatic growth in the ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ game. A startling swell in throwing water on girls wearing white t-shirts. An impressive upturn in the need to research Ethiopia. And, a sudden inflation in going to Little Jimmy’s house because his mother didn’t understand parental controls.

Yes, those are all euphemisms for boners. Thanks for noticing.

I beg of you Hef to reconsider. We have a generation of boys (and girls) wanting what only you can give them. Full access to nudity that fits neatly between the mattress and the boxspring. Come to your senses before my son hits his teens. If I had to choose between sticky keyboard and sticky pages, I would go with the latter.


A Mother Trying to Avoid a Sticky Situation

Kristine Laco

Kristine Laco shares the stories we all have with a splash of sarcasm, a pinch of bitch and a ton of wine at Adulting In Progress dot com. Her middle finger is her favourite and she lives by the motto that if you are not yelling at your kids, you are not spending enough time with them. She takes selfies at the gyno. Taco Tuesday is her gospel. Reality TV is real folks. She is making turning 50 a job because she doesn't have one.


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