Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison

02.06.2016 Views

CHAPTER 10 “I can’t help it,” said Alice very meekly: “I’m growing.” “You have no right to grow here,” said the Dormouse. —Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland I think a jewelry line would be really cute,” I suggested to Darlene, one of the Playboy licensing department associates. The show’s ratings were high and growing, so it dawned on Playboy to begin merchandising it—and the girlfriends—to increase profits and capitalize on its popularity before it was too late. They asked Darlene and some other licensing execs to come speak with the three of us. “They should be specific to our lifestyle shown on TV,” I continued. “Charm bracelets are really popular, so how about one with cute charms like a tiny dog, a champagne bottle, a jet . . .” I began doodling the design on one of the HMH (for Hugh Marston Hefner) monogrammed notepads placed around the dining room table. “That’s a really great idea,” she exclaimed, watching me draw the little trinkets on a large link bracelet. “Wow, you can actually draw.” At the time, the licensing department was one of the star moneymaking divisions of Playboy Enterprises. Playboy clothing and accessories had been popular ever since Sarah Jessica Parker wore a gold rabbit head necklace on an episode of Sex and the City. And, for the first time ever, the show was single-handedly guiding Playboy into, dare I say, almost family-friendly, mainstream status. Our show was packaged in such a way that, believe it or not, many adults were watching it with their kids. The series, though loaded with sexual innuendo, was so colorful and cartoony that it almost felt more Scooby-Doo than sexy. GND merchandise was a natural integration. However, Playboy licensing was extremely cautious not to directly associate any one product with The Girls Next Door in order to avoid owing any sales percentages to the network (save for the GND book, calendar, and the bobblehead dolls, all of which were things I pushed to make happen). Playboy accessories were already big sellers online, through the catalogue and in boutiques, so I figured jewelry was the smartest fit for our first collaboration. Together with Playboy’s jewelry manufacturer, I created my capsule collection consisting of earrings, necklaces, and bracelets. When the show was at the height of its popularity, so was the Vegas renaissance—and it quickly became a popular destination for us on the series. If we were married to the mansion, then Las Vegas was our mistress. The Playboy Club inside the Palms Casino Resort opened in October 2006, and

shortly after, Playboy licensing had the brilliant idea (no sarcasm, it actually was pretty good) to create Girls Next Door slot machines. We were made aware of the project and expected to be thrilled at the honor alone. No one mentioned any sort of compensation for use of our likeness or any percentage on the back end. We were really excited about the idea, nonetheless. Who wouldn’t get a kick out of seeing their faces on a slot machine? We simply didn’t realize that we should be getting a fee for such a thing. By this time, Bridget, Kendra, and I had signed on with a management company. Hef had worked closely with this company in the past and had made friends with the owner, so I suppose he didn’t feel too threatned by us “branching out” in this way. Hef kept us aggressively sheltered and any press we were allowed to do was preapproved by Playboy public relations and only done if it promoted the brand, the show, or Hef specifically. Nothing spotlighting us as individuals was ever given the green light. For example, Hef refused to let me try to compete in the first season of Celebrity Apprentice, because he didn’t want me to go to New York for a few weeks, but “coincidentally” a Playmate of the Year he was eager to promote landed the spot instead. For the most part, we chose our battles and did as Hef requested when it came to our careers, but the slot machine idea struck a chord. “No way,” an acquaintance of mine told me over the phone one afternoon. “I’m going to look into this. Slot machines are big money, Holly. They’re planning on using your names and likenesses. They have to pay you for that.” Shortly after the licensing department was approached about compensating us, the slot machine plans came to a grinding halt. It seemed insane to abandon it altogether, but it was never brought up again. Either there were too many hands in the pot to make it profitable or no one wanted to concede that we should be paid for the use of our names and likenesses. God forbid they open up a can of worms by making us feel important or put enough money in our pockets to feel independent! My last attempt at foraying into the world of Playboy licensing was a pitch for Bridget, Kendra, and me to create swimwear lines—an idea they were initially enthusiastic about. They immediately green-lit the project and I began designing my collection. It went far enough into development that samples of all of my designs were manufactured. But one day, without any explanation, the project was shut down. Bridget, Kendra, and I were so used to defeat by this point, we didn’t even question the decision. It was never mentioned again until one day I noticed the Playboy catalog on Mary’s desk. I spun it around to face me and gasped. There she was: a sultry Sara Underwood lying across the cover in a sleek, sophisticated black monokini with a tiny gold Playboy logo beneath the belly button. “What the fuck?” I whispered under my breath. That was my design! Did Playboy licensing actually go ahead and manufacture and sell my design without even letting me know? Sure, it could have been a mistake, since the same manufacturers that made the Playboy line made the GND samples, and maybe Playboy even had the legal right to use my ideas this way, but it still made me feel like dirt. It wasn’t about the lack of compensation. It was about feeling owned, like I was Playboy’s personal property and could be walked all over like a doormat. I didn’t even bother confronting anyone about it, because I knew it would be a losing battle. It definitely made me question

CHAPTER 10<br />

“I can’t help it,” said Alice very meekly: “I’m growing.”<br />

“You have no right to grow here,” said <strong>the</strong> Dormouse.<br />

—Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland<br />

I think a jewelry line would be really cute,” I suggested to Darlene, one of <strong>the</strong> Playboy licensing<br />

department associates. The show’s ratings were high and growing, so it dawned on Playboy to begin<br />

merchandising it—and <strong>the</strong> girlfriends—to increase profits and capitalize on its popularity before it<br />

was too late. They asked Darlene and some o<strong>the</strong>r licensing execs to come speak with <strong>the</strong> three of us.<br />

“They should be specific to our lifestyle shown on TV,” I continued. “Charm bracelets are really<br />

popular, so how about one with cute charms like a tiny dog, a champagne bottle, a jet . . .” I began<br />

doodling <strong>the</strong> design on one of <strong>the</strong> HMH (for Hugh Marston Hefner) monogrammed notepads placed<br />

around <strong>the</strong> dining room table.<br />

“That’s a really great idea,” she exclaimed, watching me draw <strong>the</strong> little trinkets on a large link<br />

bracelet. “Wow, you can actually draw.”<br />

At <strong>the</strong> time, <strong>the</strong> licensing department was one of <strong>the</strong> star moneymaking divisions of Playboy<br />

Enterprises. Playboy clothing and accessories had been popular ever since Sarah Jessica Parker<br />

wore a gold rabbit head necklace on an episode of Sex and <strong>the</strong> City.<br />

And, for <strong>the</strong> first time ever, <strong>the</strong> show was single-handedly guiding Playboy into, dare I say,<br />

almost family-friendly, mainstream status. Our show was packaged in such a way that, believe it or<br />

not, many adults were watching it with <strong>the</strong>ir kids. The series, though loaded with sexual innuendo,<br />

was so colorful and cartoony that it almost felt more Scooby-Doo than sexy. GND merchandise was a<br />

natural integration. However, Playboy licensing was extremely cautious not to directly associate any<br />

one product with The Girls Next Door in order to avoid owing any sales percentages to <strong>the</strong> network<br />

(save for <strong>the</strong> GND book, calendar, and <strong>the</strong> bobblehead dolls, all of which were things I pushed to<br />

make happen).<br />

Playboy accessories were already big sellers online, through <strong>the</strong> catalogue and in boutiques, so I<br />

figured jewelry was <strong>the</strong> smartest fit for our first collaboration. Toge<strong>the</strong>r with Playboy’s jewelry<br />

manufacturer, I created my capsule collection consisting of earrings, necklaces, and bracelets.<br />

When <strong>the</strong> show was at <strong>the</strong> height of its popularity, so was <strong>the</strong> Vegas renaissance—and it quickly<br />

became a popular destination for us on <strong>the</strong> series. If we were married to <strong>the</strong> mansion, <strong>the</strong>n Las Vegas<br />

was our mistress. The Playboy Club inside <strong>the</strong> Palms Casino Resort opened in October 2006, and

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