Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison

It all felt very rushed. Besides the photographer, the room was empty—no stylists or coaches to
speak of.
“Hi, Holly, how are you?” the photographer said, staring down at my application in his hand and
guiding me towards a white backdrop. “This will be great. Just relax. Have fun.”
I was instructed to strip down to my bikini for the first photograph. Brimming with nerves, I did
what I was told.
“Awesome, great,” the photographer said hurriedly. “Now, can you take off your top?”
Oh shit! He wants me to do what? I thought. He’s not going to take pictures of my boobs. Is
he?
It was incredibly naïve; I know that now. I had figured that the first round of photos were just to
see if you were cute enough to be called back and then perhaps we’d discuss the possibility of more
revealing photos. I wasn’t expecting to get naked at that very moment.
Begrudgingly, I shed my top for a photo. Given how incredibly awkward I felt, I can’t imagine it
was the most flattering photograph. Immediately, I felt the urge to do some kind of damage control. I
had signed my life away on the photo release, so could they use these photos even if I wasn’t
selected?
“Um,” I said, clearing my throat. “Could you make a note or something that you don’t have my
permission to use these pictures unless I’m selected?”
The photographer gave me a weird look, clearly not expecting that kind of reaction from a girl
auditioning for Playboy.
“Okay, I’ll make that note,” he said before scribbling something down on my application. That
was it, ten minutes and I was done.
Now looking back, I don’t think I could have done anything more damaging to my chances. “Hi,
I’m Holly. I want to be in Playboy but don’t use my topless photo.” But at the time, I wasn’t prepared
for it. Of course I had hopes of becoming the “Millennium Playmate,” but I sure as hell didn’t want a
topless photo of myself snapped in the back of a bus to be printed in the magazine (worrying about it
appearing online wasn’t even a consideration back then). What if they did a spread of all the girls that
auditioned?
Not too surprisingly, I never heard a word from them.
When the Millennial Playboy issue eventually came out, a set of Peruvian twins graced the
centerfold (the girls were models from Miami who never even stepped foot on the Playboy bus; the
“tour” was mostly a publicity stunt for the January issue).
Wow, twins! I thought. I never stood a chance.
In the previous issue was a four-page spread called “Girls of the Millennium Search”
showcasing collages of nude photos from the girls who auditioned on the bus. It was exactly the type
of story I wanted to avoid. Frantically, I scanned the pages but didn’t see my photo anywhere.
Thank God I said something. Although after signing the paperwork, I’m pretty sure the editors
could have done whatever they wanted with my photo. Yet, while I didn’t want to end up in some
throwaway section of the magazine, I had to admit I felt a bit defeated. I thought I’d blown my
opportunity to appear in Playboy.