Love him or hate him, Hugh Hefner, the libertine entertainment mogul who died yesterday at the age of 91, created one particularly enduring silhouette: the corset-clad, hourglass-shaped Playboy Bunny. Hefner often professed to have sparked the 1960s sexual revolution—and later funded court cases challenging state bans on birth control and abortion—but the exaggerated Bunny dimensions may prove to be his most enduring legacy. Gloria Steinem wryly revealed what it took to become a Bunny in her groundbreaking 1963 essay, “A Bunny's Tale,” for Show magazine. On assignment to delve inside what Playboy Enterprises called “the glamorous and exciting world” of the “most envied girls in America,” Steinem’s undercover stint in the New York Playboy Club during its heyday is filled with firsthand experiences—and tips on how to achieve the long-time fetishized look.
While some Bunnies’s attributes came naturally, Steinem quickly learned most women honed their physique on the job. Firstly, long and not overly plump legs were a prerequisite for all Bunnies. (At Steinem’s audition for what was ostensibly a waitressing gig, a girl with larger legs wasn’t asked to take off her coat and stay.) Table Bunnies, as they were called, toned legs by descending and ascending staircases, balancing trays full of drinks, and working double shifts to make up for low wages, all while wearing three-inch heels—and dodging wanton hands. Yet the athleticism required to work at the club routinely caused Bunnies to lose weight, and being too thin kept former Playmates from being selected for future photoshoots.
Pure artifice aided other Bunny staples. Intense corsets ensured a cinched waist but also created a fuller bust. “The boning in the waist would have made Scarlett O’Hara blanch,” wrote Steinem, adding, “the entire construction tended to push all available flesh up to the bosom. I was sure it would be perilous to bend over.” Additionally, Bunnies stuffed their costumes with plastic dry-cleaning bags for padding. Indeed, the bags headlined a laundry list of materials used to fill busts that included cut-up bunny tails, Kleenex, gym socks, and silk scarves. But plastic, as Steinem noted, is also fraught with danger when it comes to the shelf life of a Bunny. “They make you perspire,” she wrote, “thereby causing a weight loss where you least want it.”
Steinem’s seminal essay marked one of the first times a woman publicly challenged society’s stance on female beauty standards. She wrote, on her first day on the job, “I took a last look in the mirror. A creature with 3/4-inch eyelashes, blue satin ears, and an overflowing bosom looked back.” Yet, despite the Playboy Club closures in the 1980s, the waitresses’ precisely honed look lives on—to a degree. Such influential performers as Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, and Madonna have all referenced some aspect of the Bunny silhouette, but, in perhaps the truest statement of liberation, they continually adapt the look to suit their own body shapes and needs.