at her discretion

Swedish-born Lisa Fonssagrives has a face that is synonymous with French and American fashion. Her image has graced more Vogue covers than any other model and despite the claims of Janice Dickinson to have not only been the first, but also to have coined the term supermodel, it was Lisa who can lay claim to that title - even though she described herself as no more than “the clothes hanger”. The term supermodel was actually dreamt up in the 1940’s by a journalist to describe the top models of the day.

Lisa’s career is impressive in model terms, having spanned three decades [1930's - 1950's]. Yet another example how society and the media’s attitudes to women in terms of body image and ageing have gone awry in recent times. Can you imagine one of today’s supermodels still being at the top of her game into her 40’s? I think not…

Woman in Palace - 1951. Photo by Irving Penn (her husband).

Ah, such elegance. I suspect her headwear is supposed to be a turban of some description, but it reminds me of a towel… and there is always something quite beautiful and fresh about a woman with her hair in a towel. I love the exotic locale and the graceful lines of Lisa’s face and neck, juxtaposed with the shapelessness of the robe/sack/blanket she is wearing. What is that thing, anyway?

Lisa with Harp - 1939. By the wonderful Horst P. Horst.

What a wonderful photograph. I adore photos from an early vintage where the photographer has obviously used experimental techniques to create optical illusions and the like. I’m not sure what this photo is supposed to convey, but whatever it is, I like it. To me, she appears to be entrapped within a cage of harp. What do you think?

Sur la Tour Eiffel. Photo by Erwin Blumenfeld

At one point around the middle of the 20th century, there seemed to be quite a trend for people to have their photo taken at a great height, whether in the rigging of bridges, or high up on a building site. Or, as we have it here, the Eiffel Tower. Despite looking like the wind might catch her skirt and cause her to plummet to her death, there is something quite joyous and life affirming about this photo. Especially if you don’t suffer from vertigo.

I have no information about this photo, except that at a guess, it was most likely taken some time in the 1940’s and I doubt very much it was seen by the mainstream populace of the day. I can’t be sure, but the statue looks very much like Marie Antoinette and Lisa’s wig is obviously mirroring the hair of the statue, but other than that, I really have no clue what is going on here. Whatever it is, I like it.

I have more lovely photos of Lisa, so stay tuned for part deux.

Thanks to Agent Lee for most of the images.

It’s no secret that men have held a fascination with women’s bottoms since time immemorial. I’ve pondered over this fascination for many hours over time, and have always been torn attempting to relate to the attraction - male or female, yet now finally I think I understand it.

It’s primitive. A woman’s curves are the most beautiful on earth, but the bottom in particular holds a special place, apart from the obvious curves. It’s animalistic. A rounded bottom is beautiful, yet there is something innately primal about the attraction. The vast majority of the animal kingdom won’t tell you differently.

In my perusal of late 19th century and early 20th century erotic photography, it’s quite apparent a womanly behind has always been a very desirable trait. It’s no surprise if you think about it, but if you really ponder it, we’re talking about our great-grandparents. Nevermind beyond that sphere.

Ok, before I ruin this for everyone, here are some rather fetching photographic records I’ve come across which illustrate the long-held desire for the female buttocks:

This is probably the most modern pose you will encounter here. Not just pose, but body and apparent freedom of expression…. as uncomfortable as she looks. It’s here that I see the attraction of the female bottom. It’s a beautiful photo.

This photo I find a little disturbing, even though it is of its time [I'm guessing late 19th century]. The reason being that her waist looks so unnaturally pinched, and probably that is due to wearing corsets long term. Of course, the photograph and her figure is lovely, but there is something wrong…

This looks far more natural, albeit probably quite unattractive to most men in the present day. My, how times have changed, although despite what the media would have you believe, I would venture to say most women still look like this…

Something is wrong with this photo. Have you noticed? From what I understand, airbrushing [of sorts] of photographs was around from almost the time photography was invented. Often, women’s private parts were airbrushed out of photos even when they were clearly nude and the photos were meant for erotic purpsoses. Strange, I know. Her back from her shoulders down to where her buttocks should begin looks quite unnatural. They did a pretty good job of blending. It makes you wonder what other skills they had…

Either way, what pleases me most is that no matter the photographic adjustment, these women look like women…. in a way that so many women don’t these days.

Scandinavia. Land of fair haired, blue eyed folk. Land of fjords, whimsical children’s books…. and in the present day, really great music. In the decades before now? Not so much, and I say that lovingly. I adore ABBA. I grew up with their music [they were very, very popular where I come from], but if you’re looking for 70’s cheese, you only have to look at their costumes to know what you’re in for.

The Swedes in particular love their music. There are so many forms of folk and popular music in Sweden and Scandinavia generally, that I’d be here all night trying to explain them all. And that would be very dull, indeed.

The thing I enjoy most about Scandinavian bands are the slightly ridiculous, well ok, more than slightly ridiculous costumes, poses and well, everything. It’s a strange, cultural and supremely cheesy phenomenon. What isn’t to love?

Oh, how I love me some soft focus. Soft focus and flicked hair. What more can you ask for? A common thread in all these album covers I’ve noticed, is the forced smile, usually with one person almost looking almost like they mean it. I’m not sure any of them are really comfortable here. Maybe it’s the shirts. Or the belts. Or the pants.

Oh, but yes! Wherefore have you been all my life, umm… what is his name? Harald Tusberg. He was a Norwegian TV personality in his day. He’s also going to ruin his lovely Tudor costume carrying on like that. Just as well the monarchs of old can’t see him. They’d be terribly jealous of all those bubbles, but he could quote sonnets to me all night as long as he kept that collar on.

And here we have another example of the famous “forced smile”. Who do you think looks most like they mean it in this photo? My money is on the guy on the top right. The guy next to him looks like he’s on the toilet and everyone else appears to be having horrible flashbacks to having their school photo taken. It’s not pretty. Then again, we have the shirts…

I had to save the best for last. Where could I possibly start? Is it the glasses? Which might look better on someone with better hair? Or…. is it the jacket? The pants? No. I know exactly what it is. It’s the pose. It’s all about the pose. WHY on heaven’s earth did Olav feel the need to pose so proudly with an aeroplane? I could understand it if it was his plane and it was a personal photo….. but an album cover?

There are 463 people listening to Olav’s music on Last.fm.

Ok, I’m done.

I *heart* Scandinavia.

Thanks again to lp cover lover and whomever else I can’t quite recall for the inspiration…

Ah, women’s troubles. 50% of the population knows what I’m talking about, the rest either run in terror, or become longsuffering partners. I’m no stranger to the horrors of period pain and wild hormonal fluctuations, and the wrath of the monster of women’s periods can be a very difficult animal to tame. Just ask most men. On one hand I feel sorry for them, but on the other I wish that there was more understanding. So often, it’s hard to understand what you don’t know…

I love these old ads for “sanitary protection” and just plain pain killers apparently made for the purpose. It’s no suprise of course, that period troubles have been an issue for women since the year dot.

Even if you’re terrified of womanly afflictions, stay with me here. You may be entertained.

Ok, the first thing that stands out here is that scrubbed skin reduces the appearance of hickeys? News to me… not that I recall ever having such a cliche. Get off my neck! I can see how being hickey free would boost your date bookings, though. Also, how nice that your nether regions will smell sweet and dainty with Kotex’s built in cancer-causing deodorant.

Hmm. Maybe I should start using Kotex. We can always use more confidence and the ability to sail serenely though those difficult days.

That’s it. I’m sold.

Are these people still in business? I think not. Were they so far ahead of their time that every woman was just way too old-fashioned to be sold on their catchy name? History will only tell…

Oh, this is way too easy. I do have to ask, however, what is functional period pain? As opposed to…? Midol isn’t a brand that is available where I live, but I assume it’s fairly garden-variety paracetamol. That stuff doesn’t even touch the sides, believe me.

With all the technology in the world, can someone please invent a “cure” for all the horrors of women’s periods? It’s time for the subject to be addressed in a big way. And why am I still to this day cloaking it in polite, easily digestible words?

Still, we can have a bit of a giggle at the ads…

I have to admit I don’t follow, or know very much about the sport of boxing. The spectacle of people punching the bejeebuz out of each other kind of fills me with some kind of empathic pain…. and I don’t enjoy pain. I could count the number of professional boxer’s names I can recall on one hand. I enjoyed the first Rocky film. Does that count for anything?

A few years ago I remember a big hoohaa about Muhammad Ali’s daughter, Laila taking up the sport. “Should women even be allowed to box?!” Everyone had an opinion, with the positive reactions coming from women, of course… funnily enough. “Women are weak!” “They might mess up their pretty faces!” “It’s a man’s sport!”

According to some of the photos I’ve come across in recent times, women have been active in the boxing arena for almost as long as there has been photography. Probably a lot longer.

There also seems to have been some kind of fetish attached to the phenomenon for a very long time:

I can’t help but feel a little cynical about the authenticity of this pose. As I said, I don’t know much about fighting, but surely if the recipient of this punch was actually being hit in the throat, she would be in big trouble…. but who would even notice that when there are BOOBIES on show?

This looks a little more serious, if not still very much posed. One has to wonder for what purpose this photo was taken. Is it for demonstration? Maybe I am jumping ahead of the times and the vision of these women in what appears to be Victorian underwear was the real attraction.

Thanks to Shorpy.

Again, we have women in a definite pose, although not quite as undressed as the last. I’m thinking this photo actually was for demonstration. I’ll also bet they were more than happy to be out of the horribly layered and restricting fashions of the day. Hell, I’d take up boxing to be free of that.

Thanks to The Library of Congress

Well, now everything is becoming clear. Women’s boxing has been around for possibly hundreds of years, and has pretty much always been sexualised. Funny how this photo echoes in many ways, pictures you would see today in women’s sport. It seems the only way for women’s sports to be recognised on a wide level, is if the women pose half naked, relevant to the current social/moral climate.

Interesting, indeed. The sad thing to me, at least, is that this sexualisation of women’s sport shows no signs in slowing down. Be sexual or be relegated to obscurity. It seems to me it’s one of the last bastions of overt sexism in a benign public sense.

Of course, it’s a complicated subject, and it’s not entirely up to women to change it.

Off my soapbox. For now.

Porn. It’s been around for centuries. We’ve all seen it, and most of us have enjoyed it in one form or another, although the line is often blurred between what is classed as porn and what is classed as erotica, or soft porn. No matter how you look at it, or what your preferences are, we all know when porn, is porn.

Porn is such an ugly word, don’t you think? A distinction between the more artistic sounding “erotica” and hardcore porn is inevitable, although personally, I think there’s a place for both, no matter how blurry the line.

Hardcore porn from the 1950’s to 1980’s makes me giggle. I think it’s a combination of changing fashions in hair - both upstairs and downstairs, the ridiculous modesty that often “came” into play, especially seeing as these was absolutely no question as to what you were watching, and also the quaint and often very cheesy titles and posters of erotica from decades gone by.

Speaking of which, here are a few of my favourites. None of which I’ve ever actually seen, but you have to admit they’re fun…

Where do I start? In “throbbing” color, seems like as good a place as any. I suppose you could say hot pink is a bit “throbby” - at least on the eyes. And I think the title says it all. Who, or more to the point, what do we have here? I see a goat, what looks like a very hairy sheik and Dr Phil, amongst many. Wait, Dr Phil? What have we happened upon here? Does his wife know about this? Odd tastes, indeed.

Well, I just don’t know what to tell you about this. Is this some kind of necrophiliac fetish film? The more I look at it, the more it disturbs me. I think that guy is actually supposed to be a corpse. And here I was thinking at first glance that they were a highly sexed couple on holiday somewhere in Europe. Ergh. Moving right along…

Funny that I was just listening to a rather well known band of the same name. I think I remember reading somewhere that Mudhoney got their name from a movie. “You will go away……whispering!” Something I always look for in a film.

What… what? BEYOND booze? So, does this mean that people only “sin” and nymphomaniacs are only active when they’re drunk? Hmm. Well, obviously NOT, according to this film. And how shocking that is.

I’m well aware of the cheesiness of current day porn cover art, but wouldn’t it be fun if there was a trend towards the innocence of old… and I use the word “innocence” very loosely. *wink*

More to “come” in this series…

Here endeth the overt use of inverted commas.

“When I look at myself, I am so beautiful I scream with joy!” - Maria Montez

So are the modest words of Maria Montez: Actress, model, author, poetess, gay icon. Her legacy lives on in her images and many of her films have still yet to be released in modern format. She did however, star in a handful of notable, if not credible films in the 1940’s including Arabian Nights, Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves and Cobra Woman. Do you sense a theme here? Just, maybe…

Dominican-born Maria was born in 1912 and died an early death in 1951 after having a heart attack and drowning in her bath, aged 39. I find it a little strange that she is one of the few stars of screen who has not been idolised posthumously, after dying so young. Perhaps it was her lack of credibility in her choice of film roles, her atrocious acting, or that her beauty was somewhat before its time.

To me at least, she was one of the most striking screen actresses of the 20th century.

I’m not sure what kind of bra she’s wearing, but whatever that contraption is, it’s impressive. I particularly enjoy the way the lines of her fringe [bangs] and bustline create a stark juxtaposition next to the curve of her face and body and the jagged lines of the tiger print. A beautiful photograph - Bettie Page eat your heart out!

Maria Montez: “Queen of Technicolor” - in black and white. Surprisingly, there are relatively few photographs of Maria to be found. It’s a crying shame.

This photo is a publicity still from her film, Cobra Woman.

“Give me the cobra jewel!”

A still from Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves. Maria bears a close resemblence to the glorious Ava Gardner, yet precedes her by a number of years. I do so enjoy the elegance of the 1940’s.

I think I am correct in saying that the actor pictured is Dennis O’Keefe, but it matters not. This photo still oozes glamour and sex appeal, despite the cheesy posturing.

As a final treat, I have for you a juicy little clip from Cobra Woman, complete with bad acting, beautiful women, a rakish hero and plenty of snogging.

Teehee.

Unless you count joyfully imbibing Archie and Dennis the Menace as a child, I really can’t claim to be a comic book reader of any kind. In fact, I’ve always quietly pointed my finger, giggled and rolled my eyes at nerdy types who indulge in the format - including friends. Possibly because of the proliferation of [mostly] guys who seem to enter another dimension talking about anything comic related. Most likely because I’ve never taken the time to enjoy modern comic books at their best.

Recently I’ve been introduced to a few series of critically acclaimed comics by a special friend of mine, and it’s been quite an eye-opening experience. Comics have come a long way, and that is both in terms of artwork and writing.

My friend recently had a birthday and I took it upon myself to try and find him some nice and unusual artwork, from the genre. I knew he liked a few artists: Paul Pope, Gabriel Ba and Ben Templesmith were all contenders… and then there was Ashley Wood.

Ashley Wood, is Australian and from Perth [as is Ben Templesmith], and is a highly acclaimed artist of many media and genres. He’s worked on Judge Dredd, Tank Girl, Metal Gear Solid and many others in comic form, as well as contributing to major film, music and other video games. His career is impressive:

I especially love the way he paints women. This painting reminds me of Goya. It’s beautifully dark and dense and l love the shades of yellow and brown. Without the title graphics, I would hang this on my wall.

He always paints women as powerful beings, with an interesting combination of angles and curves.

Again, minus graphics, this is a beautiful piece. Some may call it pornographic, but I call it art.

Ashley Wood obviously has a fine appreciation for the womanly figure. I enjoy his titillation and respectful, yet sexy portrayals. More comic book artists could take a leaf from his book.

The really wonderful thing about Ashley Wood is that I ordered a couple of picture books from his website for my friend’s birthday, and was thrilled to receive an original drawing and handwritten thanks from the man himself, just for purchasing a couple of small, inexpensive books of his artwork.

One day, I’d love to have one of his works on my wall.

One of the most glorious things about the internet that I’ve found, is the past being opened up in ways we never could have imagined. We now have easy access to images and insights from previous generations, that would have previously only been available by accident or with extreme dedication. And they say it’s all about the future! Not always so, in my experience…

One aspect of this that I come across very regularly in my travels, is an apparent plethora of ultra pulpy and highly sexual novels from previous decades. Mostly from the 50’s-70’s, it seems.

Recently I posted a series on The Wanton Women of Literature - of which there are more to come - but for today, our topic is Lesbian Literature, of a slightly ridiculous nature.

Allow me to illustrate:

Oh, of course he was! Even though satan is clearly pictured with regulation goatee, pointy moustache and horns…. SATAN WAS A LESBIAN! I’d give my left arm to read this book, just to find out what the hell is going on here. I suspect we’d be up for some serious bondage action.

So, let me get this straight. Not only is satan a lesbian, but now females from Greenwich Village? Is that ALL females? Are women who live in Greenwich Village satanists? Wait, what? Now I’m getting confused….

Satanist bohemian adulterers! Now, I’m getting the picture….

Oh, now you’ve gone and lost me again…. Lesbians are damned, too? Are they in gaol for adultery, or for being lefty bohemians, or for being satan incarnate? I give up.

It’s interesting to see exactly how taboo homosexuality was in past decades, and judging by the sheer volume of gay pulp book covers I have acquired of late, there was no shortage of an audience for it, as you would expect.

Funny how these covers remind me of something those covertly pervy Anerican Republican types might come out with in the present day.

Under an alias, of course.