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Trials of a Playboy photographer
The assignment: find A&M’s finest
David Chan focuses his cameras on thousands of women each year, but few reach Playboy magazine.
By RUSTY CAWLEY
News Editor
I. The Camera Never Winks
On the fifth floor of the Aggieland
Inn, within a plush suite overlooking
the hotel swimming pool and the
neighborhood Jack-in-the-Box, a
phone rings.
A lithe young woman with auburn
hair, pale skin and well-placed
freckles (let’s rate her an 8.5.) picks
up the receiver and says, in a voice
that could thaw Butte, Montana, on
Christmas Eve, “Good afternoon,
Playboy.”
Her name is Sherral, and before
her, lettering the deep red bed
spread, are notes, schedules, pam
phlets, snapshots, more notes and
a blue rubber ball belonging to a
poodle named Pepe.
Today is Wednesday, and Sher-
ral’s job is to book this afternoon
and the next three days for Playboy
photographer David Chan. In that
time, Chan will interview and
assess as many members of Texas
A&M’s female population as he can
attract to his suite.
The hook is a 3 column x 6 inch
advertisement in The Battalion, a
simple ad carrying basic informa
tion (who, what, when, where, why)
and the Playboy \ogo. The bait is an
opportunity to interview with and
perhaps pose for a photo spread
scheduled for the September, 1980
issue. The spread is entitled, “Girls
of the Southwest Conference.” It is
Photos by
Lee Roy
Leschper Jr.
intended to parade before the na
tion the best the Southwest Confer
ence has to offer in.... well, you
know.
At a table in the middle of the
room, Chan helps the first few fill out
their application forms. The form is
a brief one, printed on the face of an
envelope designed to hold the
snapshot Chan has asked each girl
to bring. It asks the essentials:
Name, age, address, phone num
ber, hair color, cup size. . .
But, as Chan will often tell you,
P/ayboy requires its women to have
more than beautiful bodies. They
must have an intellect as well, and
the form asks for proof that each
has one. It asks for a list of honors,
achievements, and such.
But the most crucial line, the one
almost every applicant swallows
her gum over, is the one that asks if
she wants to pose nude, semi
nude, or fully clothed. The barer the
bod, the higher the pay. Clothed,
$100; semi-nude, $200; completely
raw-buck-in-front-of-God-and-
Country-naked, $300.
Chan doesn’t pressure them.
“Don’t worry,” he says, “It’s not a
contract. Put down what you feel is
right. Once we start shooting, you
may want to take more off, or you
may want to keep more on than you
thought you would. No matter. It’s
up to you. We don’t force you to do
anything you don’t want to.”
Shooting doesn’t begin until April,
when Chan returns from Chicago
with a list of who is to be photo
graphed and who is not. The appli
cants have until then to decide at
which point their greed overcomes
their modesty.
Nearby, a camera team from
Bryan’s KBTX-TV is busy shooting
the action: the girls around the
table, the poodle sleeping on the
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