This entire post about former Beverly Hills 90210 star Ian Ziering reportedly being asked by Playgirl to pose nude cracks me up. I never watched much of 90210, but I was a junior in college when it debuted. I was more of a Melrose Place kind of gal. In fact, I think I still have the Melrose Place soundtrack on cassette tape.
Speaking of Playgirl, somewhere along with my collection of 4-H ribbons and school yearbooks is an autographed magazine filled with nekkid men that will surely be a family treasure to pass on to my girls when they are at the appropriate age.
I was working in the “branding and media services” department six years ago (that’s corporate BS jargonese for internal communications) at a large company here in Nashville. This was pre-kids when I still had that ambitious twinkle in my eye to get my grubby hands on the corporate ladder. My boss was named a VP and they restructured the management position over my department in such a way that it was actually not out of the question that I could qualify for it since I had 10 years’ of experience at the time.
Being little miss ambitious, I applied for the job and lo and behold I was flown out to Houston to interview with the head corporate person in charge of the new division. I did not get the job, but I came home with an autographed copy of Playgirl which was a great story to tell my all female co-workers.
During the flight I ended up sitting next to a very tall Italian man whose ego just about knocked me out of my seat. The Italian Stallion and I chit chatted for a while and he told me he was traveling on a book tour. This instantly got my attention since I am all about all things of the literary/publishing persuasion. I thought to myself, “OK, maybe this guy isn’t a shallow all brawn, no brain kind of guy.” He then proceeded to tell me he had recently been named the Playgirl magazine Man of the Year and he was touring the country. He pulled out his black satchel of goodies and the flight attendants were practically falling into his lap. Luckily the only thing he pulled out of the bag was a handful of magazines and a black Sharpie. There’s nothing more awkward then flipping through a magazine and looking at nude pictures of a man sitting right next to you. I mean what do you say? Nice tan? Who’s your stylist? How’d you get all that grease out of your hair?
Any way, I’ve always wondered what happened to the guy since he wanted to break into the entertainment industry. Ahem.