First, permit us to introduce Nudnik, who is the perpetrator of Nudnik’s Nude News. A “nudnik” is defined by The Joys of Yiddish as “a pest, a nag, an annoyer . . . a persistent, talkative, obnoxious, indomitable and indefatigable nag.” We’ll do our best to live up to the praise. If in our ramblings on Nudity we agree with any mainstream critic or journalist, or with the dead body of accepted wisdom, we’ll know we have failed at nudnikism.
Although “everybody” supposes Helen Mirren is the cat’s meow, she strikes Nudnik as a bore. She was allegedly the sex goddess of the Royal Shakespeare Company, which isn’t saying much. She got an Oscar and a heap of other awards for playing Queen Elizabeth II in the tedious The Queen. In case you live on Mars, the movie is about poor, put-upon Queen Liz II having to cope with a global outpouring of sorrow over the suspicious death of Princess Diana. Because Liz loathed and snubbed Di, the People’s Princess, she had to pretend sorrow and mourning to salvage the monarchy. In life, the Queen got her priorities wrong, and for Nudnik’s money so did the movie: the real queen of a woman was Diana. Still worse, Mirren got a TV Emmy for playing Queen Elizabeth I as though she were an incarnation of Margaret Thatcher! Give us Bette Davis in Elizabeth and Essex for a gut-wrenching rendition of the historical monarch who could love, hate and rule at the same time. When, in a fit of fury, Elizabeth smacks her lover Essex in the face, she actually sent Errol Flynn’s head spinning. There’s a woman! There’s a Queen! It would be interesting to see shots of the younger, actually cute, Bette Davis in the nude.
Mirren with drown ducks
Now, Mirren at 64 has posed topless (sort of) for a publicity puff disguised as an article in New York magazine. She is promoting her latest flick, Love Ranch, in which she plays opposite Joe Pesci as the couple that owned a booming seventies Reno whorehouse. As a madam, she’s still playing the boss. Says New York, “She presides over the brothel with such swagger that Pesci shouts, ‘Who do ya think you are, the queen of fuckin’ England?’” This “swagger” consists of making bad dick jokes, having an affair with a big, young lunkhead, and stomping on the throat of a whore who is supposedly out of line. Admits Mirren, “I’m still the good girl who wants to be a bad girl.” Providing her husband, Taylor Hackford, directs the movie and she doesn’t have to spend even one night in the Nevada brothel she visited for “research.” Finally, the lady admits, “I’m too fearful, too much of a wimp, really.”
So what does she look like topless? At her age not bad. Dame Helen is still an attractive woman in a sterile way, and the shots in question are appropriately taken of her in a bathtub. In the shot that shows her breasts, she is mostly submerged. Her wrinkles are what catch the eye, and not surprisingly in the Net comments on the New York piece, there is back and forth about age and whether that issue matters or not. Nudnik thinks she is still a pretty woman, just not a sexy one. Says one comment: “She looks nice and clean. I bet she smells fresh too!” Reader, if this is your ticket to an erotic night, go to! As for you Dame Helen, you never were a bad girl, you never could be. That’s why you married the producer/director and he’s named Taylor Hackford. Nudnik hopes this is the last we will have to see of your classically trained boobs.
We might have known it: Dame Helen adores Lady Gaga, a really bad girl. At least, Gaga is a serially topless, underwear-prancing girl, if indeed she is a girl. The rumor persists that, before a sex change, Lady G. was Mr. G. Nudnik finds it interesting that G. is constantly stripping but never goes all the way–so what’s under there?
Gaga to her fans
Leave it to Gag to blur the line between dressed and undressed. At a Mets’ game at Citi Field the other week she arrived late, fussed about the attentions of the paparazzi (as if she minded), disappeared, then reappeared in Jerry Seinfeld’s box wearing nothing more than her brief, beaded bra and bikini panties. To remind her fans that she loathes them–she best understands their bad taste–Gag “flipped the double bird,” as the New York Post put it. In plain English, she made the “Up yours” gesture with both middle fingers to the entire stadium. It takes balls, to be sure, and Gag’s keen appreciation of the inherent masochism of groupies, rock fans, and assorted admirers of her very ordinary body. Gag just ain’t got it–she’s short, kinda homely, with a very unappealing ass. According to the Post, Gag “went up to the box and said, ‘F— you! F— you!’ to the photographers.” Nudnik recalls that the “F” word is supposed to be about sex not animosity. Nudnik’s plea: “Gag, keep your private parts, however acquired, private. They are already way overexposed.
Moss on the beach
British Kate Moss is one of the most super of fashion models. Born in 1974, she has appeared on over 300 magazine covers and in innumerable fashion advertising campaigns. A top earning celebrity model, she can easily make $10,000,000 per year, despite being rather short for her trade. She has that waifish look and figure, combined with a flair for high-profile romantic relationships, not to mention cocaine scandals that endear her to the tabloids. Various nitwit men’s magazines have chosen Kate as their Sexiest Woman, apparently impressed by her list of rock ‘n’ roll boyfriends. In a recent appearance on the Howard Stern Show, Courtney Love gabbled that Moss had chased her around the room and bed and had intercourse with her, and that all of Love’s lady (sic!) friends in London had relations with Moss. If you believe Howard and Courtney, Nudnik knows of a well-known bridge for sale. Reader, if you think Kate is SEXY, especially nude, hang on.
Nudnik finds Kate as sexy as a broomstick. Well, some like “It” hot, and some like it skinny. Speaking of which, a 1993 photo contact sheet of supposedly nude shots of teenage Kate were recently auctioned off at Christie’s. The photographer is the well-known Albert Watson, famed for his black and white shots, and the 14 photos went for 30,000 pounds. Claimed the Daily Telegraph, “There is an intimacy between the photographer and his muse.” Allegedly, the shots “draw you in.” Replies Nudnik, “They turn me off.” As the British newspaper admits, “[Kate] is crouching trying to hide as much of her body as possible.” Crunched up like a clam, she is plain hiding out, and what you mainly see is a thigh and a knee, stringy dark hair, and a pouty puss. Ms. Moss, unhappy and underfed, reminds Nudnik of photos of concentration camp survivors. This stuff could give child porn a bad name. Kate, here’s a kibitz from Nudnik: If you got “It,” strut it. If you’re a beanpole, go into fashion modeling. Oops, guess she did. Which points out that hi-fashion is not about showing but hiding.
Let’s close with the query: Can a clothed woman appear more naked than a nude one? Take the case of Debrahlee Loranzana, a bank officer no less. To quote the estimable Maureen Dowd, “A knockout in New York, Debrahlee Lorenzana, a 33-year-old single mother, filed suit against Citigroup, claiming that she was fired in August from the Citibank branch at the Chrysler Center for looking too sexy.”
The bank complained that, in the clothes she chose, she distracted the male workers in her department. A bra size 32 DD, the Puerto Rican native claims to be skinny, and that her mode of dress–turtlenecks, tailored jackets, pencil skirts and stiletto heels–is modest. Unlike some tellers who wore low-cut tops, snug pants and hot boots, she never showed cleavage. Yet the guys she worked with, especially her bosses, could not keep their eyes off her. To them, in their minds, she was stark naked.
Debrahlee’s bosses at Citibank told her that her female co-workers could wear what they pleased because they were nothing to look at in the first place. But her well-tailored clothes, especially tight turtlenecks, emphasized her “hourglass figure.” Then there is the way she walks, holds herself, and speaks in a breathy, Marilyn Monroe voice. “This is genetic, what am I supposed to do?” complains Debrahlee.
Sometimes, she says, she wished she looked more ordinary so that she would be judged on her hard work.
Folks, nudity is all in the head. In the Garden of Eden, after Eve got caught conniving with the Serpent, and Adam had eaten of the apple, he grew ashamed of her nudity. She had to put on a fig leaf or two. Yet every classical painting shows an Eve that looks plenty nude to Nudnik. Maybe Eve should have emulated Debrahlee and sued her boss–Jehovah–and the Serpent and Adam for good measure. And as to what Debrahlee ought to do–get out of banking! Maybe you could become . . . a model?
NEXT TIME OUT NUDNIK WILL RANT ABOUT NUDITY WE LOVE TO SEE.
