Anne Marie Fox

Beneath a photo that shows me in midair, leaping into splits, my Playmate pictorial begins with this canny observation: “Anne Marie Fox is eager to get on with the business of being Anne Marie Fox.” At 19, my ambition—and my impatience to make my own way in the world—was already apparent to my interviewer. Looking back, it’s clear to me that PLAYBOY captured a turning point in my life. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, my first experience in front of the camera catalyzed what would become my passion for working behind it.

When I was 11, I moved with my mother to West Germany, where I attended Gymnasium—an academics-focused secondary school. The German educators were just as strict as the Catholic nuns I was used to, but my time in West Germany was formative. I absorbed and adopted valuable aspects of the culture; discipline and a strict work ethic still shape my daily habits. Without my exposure to European culture, I doubt I would be as open-minded and liberal-thinking as I am today. Travel is truly the best educator.

It was while I was abroad that I discovered my first PLAYBOY, hidden in my German-language tutor’s bathroom. I remember thinking, I wish I had a body beautiful enough to be in PLAYBOY one day. Seven years later, after I had moved back to the States, my adolescent desire came true.

I was a freshman at Mount Saint Mary’s College in Los Angeles when I agreed one day to go shopping with my roommate, who drove us out to Sunset Boulevard. Her parallel-parking skills were iffy at best, so I stepped out and guided her into the only available spot. As I remember it, when we went to cross the street, a friendly young man approached us and asked if we would be interested in meeting with his boss—PLAYBOY’s photo editor. We had happened to park directly outside her office window. My roommate and I glanced at each other, assuming it must be some sort of joke, then agreed to check it out as a dare. I expected the photo editor to be interested in my beautiful roommate, so it was a shock when she asked if I would consider posing. Playing along, I said, “Sure, why not?” “Fantastic!” she replied, then led me through the corridors into a massive, sun-drenched photo studio. The next day I received a call at my dorm informing me that Hugh Hefner had approved my Polaroid; I could begin the Playmate shoot as soon as my semester ended.

My experience on set was incredible. I was treated so well—even spoiled a bit—and felt I was working in a creative environment with consummate professionals. Each day afforded me new insights on photography, lighting, production design, hair and makeup, and my own physicality. Modeling for PLAYBOY was my first opportunity to experience both sides of the camera. I began to understand the symbiosis between subject and photographer.

The reality of being a Playmate didn’t actually sink in until I saw my published pictorial for the first time. En route to a Playboy event, I picked up the magazine at an airport newsstand. As I flipped through the pages, I became distracted by a group of Japanese businessmen enthusiastically doing the very same. They spotted me and did a double-take at my Centerfold. We all shared a knowing smile.

After my PLAYBOY pictorial came out, I dabbled in fashion modeling and commercial acting. I signed with a few agencies and moved to New York City to enroll at the Stella Adler Conservatory of Acting, but unfortunately the climate of the early 1980s was not ideal for African American actresses. The only jobs I managed to secure were mostly for background talent and the occasional television commercial. This was hardly satisfying, so I began rethinking my options as an artist.

After four years honing my acting craft with Stella Adler, I attended Columbia University, majoring in English literature and minoring in film studies. Post-graduation, I applied to the International Center of Photography and was accepted. I apprenticed under the legendary Brigitte Lacombe and Nan Goldin, who equipped me with the technique and self-esteem to pursue photography professionally. Partly thanks to Goldin’s encouragement, I came to realize my degrees from Columbia could be parlayed into a fulfilling photography career. This was a huge epiphany! Based on her unwavering support, I relocated to Italy after graduating to work on developing my first portfolio.

A few years later, I received an offer to head to London and be a photographer on the set of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, directed by and co-starring Kenneth Branagh. My job was to capture the daily intensive prosthetics transformation of the lead actor, Robert De Niro, whose metamorphosis from man into the monster was fascinating to witness and to photograph. As his character evolved, so did the prosthetics—an extra scar here, a wooden limb there. It was my first foray into set photography, and I found every aspect of the work energizing. I remember as I stood gaping at the scale and authenticity of this period piece, a distinct sensation washed over me. I was finally in my happy place: a creative environment surrounded by screenwriters, acclaimed actors and an über-talented director, all of whom I genuinely respected and admired, and me, camera in hand, given free rein to document this fleeting endeavor.

I still have specific career goals as a photographer that, hopefully, are not beyond my reach, and I can also envision myself writing and directing. But after more than 20 years in the industry, my larger dream has become to uplift and inspire others through my work. Each assignment still feels so visceral; each project takes up a sacred space within my subconscious. I want to establish myself as a dedicated image maker, storyteller and role model for all women and especially women of color. As much as my life has changed since becoming a Playmate, I continue to evolve as an artist. I’ll always be eager to get on with the business of being me.

My happy place: a creative environment surrounded by people I respect and admire.