Bunny Tales Read online

  Every year we also attended the Golden Globes parties, all of which take place at the Beverly Hilton, just down the street from the Mansion. We would watch the awards on television at the Mansion and then make our way to the after-parties. It was always great to go and see the actors whose work I admire, but it was never fun. Every party we went into, Hef did not want to stay very long, usually because the accommodation was not to his liking, meaning we were seated among other people—without a velvet rope and security lined up all around us. The first year we attended the Globes after parties, Hef felt uncomfortable and claustrophobic and kept wanting to go to the next party. In an hour, we had walked through all of the parties and were headed home. Then he sat there in the limo and talked about what a great night it had been. Emma and I looked at each other in disbelief. Was he for real? We thought he was just saying that to brainwash us. Was he used to really stupid women who accepted his version of each event or experience? It began to dawn on me that it did not matter what the girls wanted to do, but what Hef wanted, and what it seemed Hef wanted was the publicity. After that, he was ready to go home.

  The following year I thought the Golden Globes might be different. It started off okay as we spoke with the ladies from Sex in the City. Then we had a friendly chat with Tom Hanks, who seemed like a very nice person. We also met Susan Sarandon, who asked us to take a photo with her son Jack, which later appeared in US Weekly. But for all of the A-list celebs who were cool and friendly, there were other ladies, dates of men we did not even recognize, who gave us unfriendly looks. We were used to it. Their husbands’ or dates’ heads spun 360 degrees just to look at us and the women did not appreciate it. I understood where these women were coming from, but it made me feel bad and I felt it was unwarranted. Soon after we got to the party, just like the year before, Hef got all hot and bothered about the crowds and lack of private space and wanted to leave. At that moment, Adrian Brody was trying to speak with him, but Hef was in such a hurry he didn’t notice the award winner, and physically shoved and pushed us to leave. We were upset that he treated us like that, and we were embarrassed that he brushed off Adrian like that, even though it was done unintentionally. As soon as we go to the elevator, Shauna Sand, Playmate and former wife of actor Lorenzo Lamas, and I pointed out to Hef that Adrian Brody was trying to say hello to him. I was particularly interested in meeting the young and talented actor because of his role in The Pianist. Being Polish, I am familiar with the story depicted in that movie. I also wanted to ask him what it was like to work with Polish director Roman Polanski, a man it is my dream to work with. Hef, who was also a fan of the film, felt embarrassed about what happened, and we returned to apologize and speak briefly with Adrian.

  Another film-related event we attended annually was the American Film Institute (AFI) Awards. One year it was in honor of Tom Hanks, and we were seated with Heidi Fleiss and Tom Sizemore, who had starred in Saving Private Ryan with Tom Hanks. I thought the AFI was having some fun with us by making the interesting seating arrangement: let’s sit the Hollywood madam and the Hollywood sex king together. I was a little embarrassed by the whole thing, but what could I do? Heidi and Tom Sizemore told us how they met and how in love they were, though later when I read about their rocky relationship in the paper, I wasn’t really surprised. The awards show was interesting to watch, and the food was tasty, but what I remember most about this event is that it was so cold in that room that all the girls kept pulling on the table cloth to cover themselves up with it.

  The next year, the AFI honored Robert DeNiro. I was thrilled because DeNiro is one of the actors I admire most. That event was also a lot of fun, partly because Emma would always get drunk at these formal dinner galas we went to, and she would start acting silly. It was up to me to make sure she behaved, but she would crack me up. Holly, as per usual, appeared annoyed when we were having fun. Emma and I stared in admiration at Leonardo DiCaprio and Jude Law as we watched clips from DeNiro’s films and listened to his colleagues recount making these films with him. The nice thing about the AFIs was that they always gave each attendee a collection of films of the actor they were honoring.

  One other memorable experience was being invited to participate in the finale of the very first season of The Surreal Life. Corey Feldman, a Mansion regular, would be marrying his fiancée, Susie. Another participant on the show was Brande Roderick, one of Hef’s former Girlfriends. The wedding was lovely, and the reception was a fun, casual buffet-style dinner around the pool. We hung out with Vince Neil of Mötley Crüe and his sweet fiancée, Leah. We wanted to stay and have a good time, but of course, as with any other event, we left before the real fun actually started.

  The best birthday party we went to was for Vicki Iovine, who is married to Jimmy Iovine, the head of Interscope Records. Vicki is a former Playmate as well as an attorney and an author; I really wanted to meet her because we seemed to have so many things in common. The nice part was that they were our neighbors, so we could just walk across the street to the party. Vicki’s guests included Dr. Dre—whom I thought very handsome in person—Bono, Sheryl Crow and Lance Armstrong, Mark McGrath, and Maria Shriver and her brother. It was a lovely party, and even though it was Vicki’s birthday, the guests were given goodie bags of Philosophy skin products as they were leaving.

  We also had a blast stopping by Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed’s house when MTV Cribs was filming an episode at their new house. They had a beautiful house, spacious and bright. The best thing was Gene’s office, it was a Kiss fan’s fantasy; it was huge and covered in unique Kiss memorabilia. Shannon Tweed is Hef’s ex-Girlfriend, and she actually met Gene Simmons at a Playboy Mansion party. She was very nice. We met her sister Tracy once at a cocktail party, and she told me she used to stay at the Mansion when her sister Shannon was dating Hef. She asked me which room was mine, and when I told her it was six, she informed me that my bedroom was once a swingers room. I thought it was hilarious, and when I was back in my room that night, I laid in bed wondering what other memories the walls of this room held and how strange it was that I found myself in it.

  When I look back on life at the Mansion, I am grateful for all of those unique and one-of-a-kind experiences. I feel like I acquired a lifetime’s worth of fantastic memories.

  8: The Booty.

  “If women didn’t exist, all the money in the world would have no meaning.”

  —Aristotle Onassis

  The amount it costs to take seven Girlfriends to the movies and treat them to popcorn and snacks? $100. The monthly cost of hair color for seven blondes at a Beverly Hills Salon? $10,000. The yearly amount spent on silicone implants at a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon’s office? $70,000. The publicity you and your company get by having seven young blonde busty Girlfriends? Priceless. Having seven young blonde Girlfriends didn’t come cheap, but most men in Hef’s position spend that on one girlfriend, or an ex-wife, so he was getting a pretty good deal.

  There is never-ending speculation regarding whether we were paid money to live at the Playboy Mansion and how much. The truth is we got an allowance of $1,000 a week. Every Friday morning we would go to Hef’s room and ask for our allowance: a thousand dollars counted out in crisp hundred-dollar bills from a safe in one of his bookcases. We disliked this process for two reasons: one, we had to go there during a small window of time to catch him after he wakes up but before he goes to his office, otherwise it would take days to get it. And life was so unstable at the Mansion that we always felt that we had to get it right then, because we did not know if we’d be there tomorrow. Additionally, not only was it uncomfortable and slightly embarrassing to always have to ask for the money, but also, to make things worse, Hef used the occasion as an excuse to bring up whatever he wasn’t happy with in the relationship. He put us on the spot, making us feel uncomfortable. He would tell us what needed to be changed and speak to the other girls about it. Most of the complaints were regarding lack of harmony in the group, or lack of sexual participation, or that we
didn’t watch movies with him, or that we didn’t want to spend as much time with him as Holly and Bridget.

  Although he always told us that we were his family and he gave it to us out of love, we often felt like the allowance was not given out of concern or generosity. He used it as a weapon to make sure we would never leave; whenever we were out of town and missed the Wednesday and Friday going-out nights, he did not want to give us the allowance. Every time I went to see my family, he was quick to remind me that if I went, I would not get my allowance. As if I would not visit my parents for a thousand dollars? One time I had to go back to Canada to renew my visa—as a Canadian, I was in the United States under the NAFTA visa reserved for professionals such as attorneys, doctors, etc. I had to go back to renew the visa at the border because the company I worked for—Playboy—did not want to pay for the process. I did not want to travel in the dead of winter, and I did not have money for the extra expense of the flight, but I had to go. Before I went, Hef told me I would not get my allowance when I got back. I was upset, and when I returned, I told him that it was unfair of him to not give me the money when the trip was out of necessity, and I had to spend money I did not have on the flight and the visa. He gave in and gave me my allowance, but I resented him for being so cold about it. We needed that allowance; it was not a luxury. Two of the girls had children and had to pay for their school expenses and extracurricular classes. When Hef asked us to move into the Mansion, some of us still had our apartments because the leases did not end for many months, so we had to pay the rent and other bills. But Hef didn’t concern himself with that reality. My greatest burden was and still is my school loan. After eight years of post-high-school education, the loans accumulate, and I was enslaved to the financial institutions. How far does $4,000 a month get you when you are paying $1,500 for an apartment you don’t live in and $1,300 for school loans? Sure, girls who didn’t finish college or had prior obligations and shopped downtown in the discount district could save lots of money, but most of us didn’t have that luxury.

  Before I moved into the Mansion, I heard that Hef had paid off some of the school loans the girls had. Having finished undergraduate studies and law school, I certainly had more than enough school debt. Although it had nothing to do with my decision to move into the Mansion, I was hopeful that maybe Hef would help me out with the loans. Any amount of money would have made a tremendous difference in my monthly payment and my future outlook. I knew that my loans were incomparable to the other girls he helped, since they usually got a real estate license or went to a community college for a year. He did know how burdened I felt because he questioned me about where I was spending my money, and I told him that $1,300 every month went to my loans. But he never offered, and I was too intimidated to ask him. What hurt my feelings was the fact that any time a camera crew was around, the first thing out of his mouth was, “Izabella is an attorney.” He liked to brag about it to people, as if it validated the quality of women he dated. It hurt me that he used it as a promo tool but never extended any help toward me. Anyone who has postgraduate education knows how it feels to enter the world weighed down with so much debt—it’s truly hopeless. And there I was dating a man who could have changed my life without ever being deprived of any luxuries. What was strange to me is that Hef would gladly pay for any plastic surgery, necessary or not, but he would not help me with school loans. I couldn’t understand his priorities.

  Besides the allowance, there were occasions when we got extra money. For every major event we would attend, such as the AFIs or Golden Globes, we got a $1,000 clothing allowance for a dress and shoes. Special occasions such as the Grammys or the Oscar parties might merit $2,000. We would be given checks from Hef’s secretary, with the name of the event on them indicating how it was to be spent. Of course we were not obligated to show receipts and prove we spent all the money on the clothes and accessories, so some of the girls bought cheaper outfits and kept the rest of the money. I always spent it all as required, because we were expected to look good, and we needed the clothes because we were constantly attending events and parties.

  Besides cash, there were many other benefits associated with living at the Mansion. Hef covered all of our medical and dental expenses; although in the past he paid for teeth whitening, he stopped doing that in 2002. He did pay for porcelain veneers for many girls, but it was one of those major things you could ask for only once in a while or as a birthday gift. There were also other incidentals such as computers and accessories for our cars, and he even helped me pay off a credit card that I had run up before and during my life at the Mansion. We also had an account at the renowned Jose Eber salon on Rodeo Drive (easily $500 a week for hair styling and coloring, plus $2,500 every three months for hair extensions). And we had an allowance for massages, facials, manicures, and pedicures and even laser hair removal at other salons. Initially, we had unlimited facials and massages, but when girls started abusing this privilege, we were permitted each treatment only once a month and would get only $100 toward it regardless of how much it cost us. We lost the privilege because some of Hef’s previous Girlfriends got Botox injections, but had the salon (not Jose Eber) write them up as massages and facials. One of the Girlfriends went to the salon to inquire about this arrangement and Hef’s secretary got wind of it and brought it to a stop. Roxy, one of the girls who was suspected of doing this, tried to blame one of my friends for it and it brought about my first fight at the Mansion (there were three). I confronted Roxy and told her that I was not going to stand by and let her blame my friends for this. I did not want to fight with her, but I wanted to stand up for others. That is how I got my nickname of being the “mouth” of the group; when there was a problem, they looked to me to express it.

  Another great perk of being Hef’s Girlfriend was getting a new car or simply a better car if you already had one. Most people assume that Hef bought the cars for us outright, but that was not the case. He bought the Bentley twins and his prior Girlfriends $100,000 cars and bought them anything they wanted. But when a former Girlfriend took off with her new Porsche or Mercedes, Hef learned to hold back. Things were quite different when we came along. We were allowed to choose a car and then he would give us a $10,000 check for the down payment on the car and would make the monthly payments and pay the insurance for as long as we lived at the Mansion. That way the car would be paid off if one lived at the Mansion for the entirety of the payment plan, which is usually three to four years. However, because most of the girls left before that, they would be responsible for making the balance of the payments. Many Girlfriends who moved out of the Mansion after a year or so were not able to maintain the monthly payments and lost their cars. But we were the more practical generation. We knew to upgrade to better cars, but we would never get the kind of cars the previous Girlfriends got because we would not be able to make payments on them after we left. Again, a lesson in moderation learned from other’s mistakes.

  When Emma and I moved into the Mansion, Tammy, who had been there for two years, had a Porsche Boxster, and Holly had a hand-me-down Escalade that was left behind when Buffy Tyler was asked to leave the Mansion. When Holly moved in, Hef offered it to her because he was already paying for it. She accepted it, but it wasn’t her car of choice. Holly had a hard time driving the huge truck, regularly getting into problems for which Hef was paying. I was the first in the newly formed group to ask for a new car. Since Emma and I were the only ones officially living at the Mansion, besides Tammy and Holly, and Emma had just received breast implant surgery from Hef, I had to be the first to ask for something new, although it was always easier to follow in another’s footsteps when it came to asking Hef for things. It was kind of intimidating, but Tina told us that Hef likes to be asked; he enjoys feeling needed. I mustered up some courage, presented my case for why I needed a new car, and held my breath. He said yes, and I was ecstatic!

  What I really wanted was a black Escalade, but apparently Holly complained bitterly over the fact that I was
going to get the same car she had. Tammy called me while I was car shopping to tell me that I should not do it or it would create problems. I didn’t understand it since Holly always seemed to talk about how she didn’t want that truck and was going to trade it in as soon as she had the opportunity. Furthermore, she had a white one that was raised up on huge monster wheels; I wanted a black one with chrome rims—a totally different look, especially since Cadillac had come out with a new, altered model of the car. My understanding is that Holly went and complained to Mary as well, and when I called to say I found the car I wanted, negotiated the price, and filled out the papers, I was told by one of Hef’s assistants that I had to find another car. I was hurt, sad, and thought it was unfair. I went to look at other cars the next day, and I found one similar to the Escalade, the Chevy Tahoe. When I called Hef’s assistant, who usually took care of the money, to give her the details, she told me that it was too expensive and I should look for something cheaper. I was confused; it was already pre-approved by Hef. It wasn’t just what she said, but the way she said it: she was condescending and acted like the money was hers and not Hef’s. I broke down crying right then and there in the dealership. This was such a joyous occasion for me, and it was agreed to by Hef, and now I was being denied, again? It was embarrassing enough to go to the dealership as Hugh Hefner’s Girlfriend and to tell the salesman that I did not have the permission to get the car, but to have Hef’s assistant yell at me on the phone was over the top. Eventually I spoke to Mary, who realized the silliness of the situation, and I got the green light for the Tahoe. I was really happy. I had it totally custom made with the chrome grill, sunroof, 22-inch rims, DVD player, TV, back-up camera, and navigation system. In the end it cost as much as the Escalade, although I paid for the upgrades with my own savings. And the biggest irony of it all lies in the fact that less than six months later when Tammy left, Holly ditched the Escalade and got herself a white version of Tammy’s black Porsche Boxster.