Playboy's Pajama Parties

Human Nature being what it is, there are only three things that will get a grown man outdoors in his pajamas: the arrival of the morning newspaper, the call of "Fire!" and a party at Playboy Mansion West. The last is by far the most fun.

When Hugh M. Hefner inaugurated the Mansion's first pajama party on New Year's Eve 1973, a lot of people took a surprised second look at the invitation. "He has asked everybody to wear 'night clothes'--whatever that may or may not mean," puzzled columnist Nigel Dempster, thousands of miles away in his office at the Manchester Daily Mail. Night clothes, for the information of our colleague, are what the world outside Holmby Hills wears for sleeping. Inside Mansion West at the annual Midsummer and New Year's Eve pajama parties, they are what people wear for playing. It's a delightful tradition inspired by the preferred attire of the host, who wants his guests to be just as comfortable as he is. Hef wears pajamas all the time--for eating, working, playing and especially for an intimate soiree such as this one. An intimate soiree chez Hef, by the way, can include several hundred people. When the guest list goes beyond his circle of close friends, Hef has been known to bow slightly to convention and slip into more conventionally elegant threads.

Nothing mellows out a party faster than meeting your fellow guests turned out ready to turn in. Despite this obvious logic, some folks are hard to convince. Several years back, a few of Hef's guests chose to ignore the "night clothes" suggestion. That's a gaffe not unlike wearing Adidas to a black-tie dinner. Nonplused, Hef quickly updated an Oriental tradition and provided all unsuitably garbed guests with robes from the liberal supply in the Mansion Bathhouse. Few balked at the change.

The 1979 Midsummer Night's Dream event, held on the balmiest of Southern California nights, prompted no such confusion or reluctance on the part of the revelers. By now, Hef's PJ bashes are legend in Hollywood and invitations to the two annual events are hot tickets. As might be expected in a city with no dress code at all, the interpretation of night clothes (text continued on page 129) has gradually been stretched to include costumes of unparalleled daring.

A standard of sorts was established a couple of years back when Playmate Star Stowe arrived for the New Year's version of the party wearing a sparkling white, 100-percent-cotton diaper held seductively in place by two dime-store-variety safety pins. The simplicity of the outfit drew raves from her suddenly overdressed admirers.

Likewise, there were no complaints last summer when up-coming Playmate Liz Glazowski chose a stunning ensemble of (text concluded on page 192)Pajama Parties(continued from page 129) black corset, net stockings, boots and whip--all offset by a single red rose. She carried the rose for its beauty and bouquet. One doesn't ask a lady why she carries a whip.

Hef inaugurated the Midsummer Night's Dream event on August 26, 1977. The New Year's parties had become so popular that it was obvious that once a year before bedtime was no longer the right prescription. Guests were in exuberant form that year and Mansion memories fondly include the delicious sight of Playmates Patti McGuire and Marcy Hanson flashing for fellow revelers. Perhaps in anticipation of a similar happening, this year's partygoers were in even better spirits, which you'll see as Variety's man in Hollywood, Jim Harwood, recaps last summer's PJ extravaganza:

As the party gets under way, the aptness of the title Midsummer Night's Dream begins to be apparent. Outside in the driveway, a constant stream of Bentleys, Rolls and Mercedes pull up and unload guests who have driven miles in their nightwear through areas where such garb would be very difficult to explain; only to arrive at a spot where any other would be impossible to explain.

Still unsure of their own wakefulness, they are confronted with apparition after apparition. Timothy Leary, currently unattached guru, with a shock of white curls topping his ankle-length robe, passes by, declaring somewhat cryptically, "I think Hefner is one of the four great cultural influences on America." Ordinarily, such a statement would demand pursuing, but this is no night for heavy philosophizing. Not when the girl just off to your left is clouding your mind with her outfit of gold G string, magic wand, diaphanous angel wings and no top. As cultural influences go, Hef has obviously hit on something big.

Beyond the entranceway, the darkened Main Hall is exploding in pin points of brightness as a spotlight bounces glittering shards of light off the revolving mirrored ball overhead. Shel Silverstein, in a white terrycloth caftan, can be seen sharing a lollipop with a beauty in a shortie; Robert Culp walks by, resplendent in his own caftan, gaily decorated in a tropical-bird motif. Actress Misty Rowe (Misty, Playboy, November 1976), soon to be seen in The Man with Bogart's Face, is already catching glances in a black corset and choker.

Although young ladies may wear less at a Mansion gala than they would in the ballroom of the Beverly Hilton, bare skin does not a party make, as many of Hef's imitators have found out. More than anything, Hefner's parties reflect first-class care and planning--while seeming so effortless that guests are immediately at ease. It's one thing to think, Wouldn't it be fun to have a pajama party? It's another to make one work.

Ordinarily, the Mansion is regarded as a fairly magical setting, but the sheer elegance of the grounds this night defies description. Suddenly, being outdoors in night clothes seems to be the most natural way to spend a summer's eve.

Decorations for the party have a suitably lavish feeling. Hundreds--perhaps thousands--of mums and gladioli splash their colors all the way from the house to the pool, part of which has this time been taken under cover, allowing buffet diners an alfresco feeling even while inside a gigantic white tent. The tent encompasses not only the sloping lawn but also the pool area and the hill behind it. A specially erected dance floor shares the tent space and the warm breezes. As the dancing starts, the water of the pool casts reflections on the roof of the tent, pulsing to the disco beat as pink, blue and yellow lights flash in rhythm overhead.

On the dance floor, more lights sparkle underfoot as big Jim Brown and bigger Wilt Chamberlain, both veterans of these functions, choose their partners. They boogie side by side, Brown in a caftan and Chamberlain in a jogging outfit. (If Wilt wants to sleep in a jogging suit, we certainly aren't going to argue the point.)

Director Peter Bogdanovich takes the floor, gorgeous girl in one hand and expensive cigar in the other. Handsome actor--tennis pro Dean-Paul Martin looks on, his white robe barely visible through the crowd of pretty tennis buffs gathered around him. Lovely Polly Bergen appears in a feathered silver nightgown, bared at the midriff.

Before long, the dance floor jumps with a dazzling array of caftans, PJs, see-through nighties, garter belts and corsets; plus one unexplained toy Teddy bear that's stark-naked. As the loudspeakers blast the Village People's YMCA, synthetic fog wraps the floor in a dreamlike cloud, but the couples just keep on kicking the molecules.

The quintessential host, Hef moves slowly and graciously through the crowd, greeting guests, pausing to pose for pictures, alternately biting on the stem of his pipe and taking a sip from his ever-present Pepsi. If his red-silk pajamas are any indication, tonight he is in an exceptionally festive mood. Companion Sondra Theodore, Miss July 1977, has let all the stops out, too, sporting an iridescent white lounging outfit that challenges even the flashing disco lights for brilliance.

In fact, the whole Playmate contingent is in great form tonight. Debra Jo Fondren, 1978 Playmate of the Year, accentuates the positive with the sheerest of shorties, while 25th Anniversary Playmate Candy Loving is overwhelming in a long flowing pink gown. Each woman seems more striking than the last. One must be very careful at these functions to avoid whiplash.

Of course, if the whiplash doesn't get you, the calories will. One of the unsung joys of a Mansion party is the food. This is quite simply one of the best places to eat in town. Any town. Many a dancer makes a pit stop only to find that his boogie no longer works after refueling. At that point, the conversation gets lively. Informal discussion groups spring up to critique the sartorial onslaught. People watching and star spotting get serious. And, finally, romance permeates the air. Couples huddle in corners or drift over the Mansion grounds, seeking one of the many special places where libidos can rise undisturbed.

It's nights like this that keep people coming back--and others maneuvering months ahead for an invitation to either of these new Hollywood phenomena. Even burly Burt (Rocky, Rocky II) Young, who admits to feeling "pretty silly" in pajamas, says 1979's Dream may be one of the best among the dozen or more parties he's attended at the Mansion. But will it be his special favorite?

Burt says with a glance at the many girls nearby, "Check with me about four A.M. It could be tonight."

"The girl is clouding your mind with her gold G string, magic wand, diaphanous angel wings and no top."

Why not throw your own Playboy pajama party and tell us all about it? Or better yet, send a photo to Playboy Picture Department, 919 North Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611.