I’m Kayla, and yes, I actually sat with a stack of 1970s Playboy mags and the big coffee table book, Playboy: The Complete Centerfolds. I found the mags at a flea market. Ten bucks for the lot. The hardback I borrowed from a friend who keeps it under his stereo, like it’s a vinyl sleeve. (For the blow-by-blow version, my month-long journal with the ’70s Playmates lives here.)
I didn’t rush. I made tea. I put on Fleetwood Mac. And then I read, page by page. Not skimming—reading.
The vibe check: warm light, soft hair, big confidence
The photos from the 70s don’t feel cold. The light is warm. Skin tones look golden. The sets are playful: shag rugs, wood paneling, plants everywhere. Sometimes a pool. Sometimes a ski lodge. It has mood.
You can tell the look mattered. Hair is a big deal. Natural waves. Long bangs. Brows that look like brows. Not too carved. Not too fake.
I kept seeing the same photo names pop up: Pompeo Posar, Richard Fegley, David Chan, Ken Marcus. That told me the style here wasn’t random. It was a house look, and it holds together. Like a good album, not just a hit single.
Real standouts I can’t forget
These are the women who stuck with me. Not just for the centerfold, but the way they felt on the page—the little data sheets, the smile, the posture, the pace of the set. (If you want to see who opened the decade, the full roster of 1970 Playmates is a fun starting point.)
- Liv Lindeland (Playmate of the Year 1972): Cool, clean, and Norwegian. She looks like winter sun—bright but calm.
- Marilyn Cole (Playmate of the Year 1973): British glamour with steel in the eyes. Poised, not precious.
- Cyndi Wood (Playmate of the Year 1974): Feathered hair, glossy style. You can almost hear a disco bassline.
- Marilyn Lange (Playmate of the Year 1975): Girl-next-door energy but with stadium-level charm. Big smile. Real warmth.
- Lillian Müller (Playmate of the Year 1976): Angular and chic. A look that works in any decade, which is rare.
- Patti McGuire (Playmate of the Year 1977): Sporty and bright. Later married Jimmy Connors. I love that note—it adds story.
- Debra Jo Fondren (Playmate of the Year 1978): The hair is legendary. Huge, but soft. It frames her face like a halo.
- Monique St. Pierre (Playmate of the Year 1979): Euro gloss with a cool gaze. She felt fashion-forward to me.
- Candy Loving (January 1979 Playmate): Fresh and friendly. Her name matches her vibe, which sounds silly, but it’s true.
- Bebe Buell (November 1974 Playmate): A rock-scene thread runs through her pages. She’s got “band on tour” energy.
I know that’s a lot of names. But I wanted you to see what the decade really looked like across the years. It wasn’t one tone. It changed.
Wait, the articles? I read them too
People joke about “reading for the articles,” but, you know what? Some of the writing is strong. The Playboy Interview with Jimmy Carter from 1976 is still shocking. He talked about “lust in his heart.” A sitting politician, saying that in print? Wild.
There’s solid fiction and essays, too. The Playboy Advisor column made me laugh. It’s frank and a little smug, but it’s useful. The ads are a time capsule: Brut cologne, hi-fi systems, long Camaro noses, low Porsche stances, and a lot of smoke. The era’s flair for spectacle even spilled into the squared circle, captured in this ode to ’70s wrestling pageantry. For a wider blast of ’70s nostalgia—including those very ads—take a spin through Super70s, which curates the decade’s quirkiest relics in one place. You can smell the paper and the cologne notes in your head.
What aged well (and what didn’t)
Here’s the thing: some parts shine. Some parts don’t.
What worked for me:
- Warm, skilled photography with real set design
- Centerfolds that feel like people, not mannequins
- The “data sheet” pages—hobbies, music, little quirks
- Hair and brows that look human, not carved up
What didn’t land:
- A narrow view of beauty—very thin, very similar skin tones
- Airbrushing that sands off the edges of real life
- The male gaze is the boss; it shows
I don’t want to gloss over the harder stuff. The A&E series Secrets of Playboy and other reporting added weight to how I read these pages. It made me think about safety, power, and who got to say “yes” and “no.” The mags don’t show that part, but the world around them existed. I carried that with me.
Thinking about how romance migrates from glossy paper to glowing phones made me curious about modern matchmaking tech. If you’ve entertained the idea of meeting someone online, take two minutes to scan this no-fluff Hinge review—it breaks down what the app gets right (prompts, safety features, real bios) and where it’s still stuck in swipe culture, helping you decide whether to download or dodge. Prefer something more immediate and locally grounded than a polished dating app? Swing by this Backpage Elmira board for a throwback classifieds vibe where real-time listings connect you with nearby singles and casual meet-ups without the algorithmic haze.
How I actually used this stack
I wasn’t just daydreaming. I pulled looks for a photo shoot mood board: soft backlight, houseplants, vinyl textures, high socks, a little satin. I stole a color palette—caramel, moss, cream, and cherry. It works on modern sets. It even works in living rooms. No joke. (I even tried dressing the part for a week—spoiler: collars got huge—and wrote about it in this 70s attire experiment.)
I also clipped a few vintage ads and tucked them into a frame on my bookshelf. A Porsche ad next to a tiny cactus. It makes me smile.
Little details that made me feel there
- Staples that creak when you fold the center. That sound is so specific.
- The printing drift—red plates a hair off. It gives photos a hum.
- Shel Silverstein cartoons show up, and I’m like, oh, right—him!
- Cover blurbs that tease interviews like they’re movie trailers.
Price, format, and the easy way in
If you want the look without hunting, the big book, Playboy: The Complete Centerfolds, gives you the 70s in one sweep. I spent nights flipping, then going back to the months I liked. My flea market stack was cheap, but single issues in great shape can get pricey. If the covers are rough, the price drops fast. I didn’t mind the wear.
My verdict
Do these magazines nail modern values? No. Do they show careful craft, striking design, and a true sense of time? Yes. Big yes.
If you love vintage style, the 70s Playmates give you tone, lighting, and feel. Take the good—texture, warmth, and human faces—and keep your eyes open about the rest. That’s how I read them. That’s how I’ll keep them—on a low shelf, next to the turntable, where the light is soft and the past sits quiet.