[This post was inspired by the “white bikini” over on The Big Ugly. Thanks for making the words rattle!]
Way back when, when I was a kid, long before the day I was shocked to find myself older than the naked ladies who frequented the pages of Playboy and Penthouse (the latter preferred—the women were more real, and I count Bob Guccione as a notable influence on my photography), I’d be leafing through the magazines, or more often using the table of contents because that’s the kind of kid I was, and seeing lots of women with tan lines (it was the 70s). And I remember trying to sort out my thoughts and feelings on tan lines and the women who did or didn’t have them.
On the one hand, there were the women who were a single shade of goldy brown which pretty much meant they were nude sunbathers (it was the 70s). And I thought that was pretty cool. I’m a closet exhibitionist myself and a fan of (tasteful) nudity in general, so the thought of the women out in the wild in their altogether turned me on.
On the other hand, there were the tan line women. The sweet pale skin of their ass, pubes, and titties often made the rest of them look darker by comparison, and always made their bush (it was the 70s) and nipples all the more enticing. Furthermore, these women were showing us their secrets, things that not just anybody who happened to be wandering by on the beach or whatever wild place that day could see.
And that, the sharing of secrets, turned me on even more. And still does.
But these days I’m more a fan of the pale healthy look. It’s the 2010s.