James Beltran, an Associated Press Writer, reports Bettie Page has had a heart attack and is in a coma. Her management company, the Curtis Management Group, says she’s “critically ill”.
And a friend of hers says she’s in a coma, which her managers aren’t denying.
Which totally bums me out.
Bettie Page is 85 years old.
I dunno if you caught the Bettie Page biopic, but I did, and I liked it. I especially liked the way the film makers captured creepy dudes behaving totally creepy around her while she was out in public places…which, not long after she retired being a model, was something she seldom did.
In fact, I don’t think she went out much while she was a model, but I’m not too sure about that.
Here’s a porno history lesson, so listen up, especially if you don’t already know this:
In the 50’s, amateur “camera clubs” would hire models; cities all over the US had their own club. Which is to say a bunch of horny perverts, much like myself, with their cameras in tow, would haul ass to whoever in the camera club was hosting the model that weekend (don’t you know it was the dude whose wife was away), and the pervs would crowd around the model and request certain wardrobe; they’d ask her to strike various poses, and if they had really big balls they might have even asked her to nude up and show a little bush, and then they’d haul ass back to their amateur dark rooms in their basements and develop the pics, and then look at their “work” and beat off like a monkey in the zoo.
Ain’t it grand to be a pervert in the 21st century! No more dark rooms and developing and crowding around a model at your local camera club. Oh, thank you Lord for the wonder that is the internet!
Irving Klaw was based out of New York, and he was a pervert, much like myself, and he sold smut, much like myself, and he was one of the very first fetish photographers. This is post-WW II, when almost everyone was uptight, and The Pervs were just starting to surface. Klaw sold nudie pics out of the back of magazines like Titter, Beauty Parade, Eyeful, and Wink. A lot of Klaw’s work featured women in bondage, and Bettie Page was his most popular model. Eventually, Klaw got into all sorts of legal hassles over the smut he produced, and it got so bad he quit the biz and destroyed a ton of the negatives he had shot over the years.
What a shame.
Bunny Yeager was a former model turned photographer, and she lived in Florida, and she took lots of classy nude shots of her most popular model — Bettie Page. She’s still alive, by the way, and, from what I hear, she’ll be happy to take your portrait.
I want a Bunny Yeager portrait!
Anyways, I’m no Bettie Page expert, but I’m a big fan. Her look is an archetype — nothing less. And I don’t have to tell you that’s something very, very rare.
Even though I just told you.
Someone told me Bettie was most recently living somewhere in Santa Monica and was a recluse. Again, I don’t know this for sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me. She also found Christ.
If you’re ever wondering whatever happened to your favorite porn girl, don’t ever count out becoming a recluse — after finding Christ.
Adrianna Nicole introduced me to Eric Kroll recently, and we’ve become fast friends. Probably cause we’re both perverts who like to take pictures of naked girls, only his are art and mine aren’t. He also collects a lot of the same stupid shit I like to collect. Kroll is known for his fetish work, but don’t tell him I told you that…he doesn’t like to be pigeonholed. Anyways, for a spell he was Bunny Yeager’s agent. And when I first met him, I was totally blown away by all his vintage Bettie Page prints. I ended up buying a few from him, too. Actually, I’m still blown away by lots of things about Eric, which sounds kinda gay…but No Way Am I Gay.
Where am I going with all this now?
Oh, I remember now: Listen up, bros! If you happen to run into a porn star — or a model — while out doing whatever it is you do during your day, don’t be a creep.
Always remember this smart saying from your pal Billy Watson the Smut Peddler: creepy behavior gets absolutely nothing accomplished.
If you’re in absolute need to say something, just say “Hi!” and that you’re a fan, and then move on.
Quickly.
Before she reaches for the mace.