But where there is a will there is a way, and when the boys show up, the girls will play. At the beginning of a party we sat there dutifully smiling and posing for pictures, all the while keenly aware of which guests were arriving at the party. We sat there as the ever-gracious hostesses and made goo-goo eyes with hot male celebrities. And as soon as the party was rowdy enough for Hef to be distracted, we would excuse ourselves to go to the bathroom, taking the longest possible route to get there. Our next excuse was to go get food, and after flirting and chatting with the guests, we always made sure to grab a plate of food on our way back to the table and announce to Hef how happening the party was and how we had to wait in line. After that, when everyone had a few drinks in them, we would basically sneak away as soon as Hef turned his head. He would always leave the party early. This was good and bad—bad because we wanted to stay longer, and good because we figured the sooner he went to bed, the sooner we could sneak back down and hang out freely by ourselves.
Let’s take a closer look at the five annual Playboy Mansion parties.
New Year’s Eve Party
The party calendar began with the New Year’s Eve party, my least favorite of the year. The reason is not because of the décor or the food or a lack of festive spirit, but because the odd mix of guests lacks the usual energy associated with Mansion parties.
It is simply that most people like to spend New Year’s Eve with their significant others, and since Hef is so strict about not inviting men, many girls do not want to show up solo. According to Hef, “a good party has more good-looking women than men,” but most women want to spend New Year’s Eve with a date. Also, it is a time when people are usually with close friends and family, and Hef does not usually permit his guests, other than the Girlfriends and his close friends, to bring more than one friend to the party. As a result, a lot of celebrities and hot, fun people do not attend the New Year’s Eve party. It is a random mix of Hef’s older friends, a handful of celebrities, and mostly female singles. The Mansion is a good place to go on New Year’s Eve only if you are single and at least a couple of your friends are also invited to the party.
The New Year’s Eve party is more elegant and subdued than all of the others. The décor is usually black, white, and sparkly: white flower centerpieces, silver chairs, black sparkly tablecloths, a black-and-white checkered dance floor. There is also a greater contrast in what the guests wear; a lot more women in dresses and men in suits, unlike at the other parties, which are all lingerie. As time went on, even the Girlfriends started to wear more clothes for that party. The last year I lived at the Mansion, Emma, Susan and I all wore short black dresses, Holly wore a silver sparkly flapper dress, and Bridget wore some bizarre gold get-up.
The New Year’s Eve party was not only mellower in terms of décor but also in terms of the shenanigans that went on. Nothing much happened, despite our efforts to create fun. One year, Emma invited some guy she knew from the East Coast and his brother. She got them on the list because they were musicians. She kept sneaking off to the game house to smooch with this guy, and I would go with her to make sure she didn’t get caught. I think she did it out of boredom, and her idea was that I would hook up with the brother, but it wasn’t my thing. I wasn’t bored enough to hook up with random people, despite my occasional Grotto fantasies. There was also a big movie star at the party who hooked up with Susan’s friend, whom Susan invited to the party as her guest. I was shocked to see it happen because I had just watched a TV special about him, how he met his wife, and I remember thinking what a great relationship they had. Typical Hollywood illusion, I thought.
The last New Year’s Eve party I attended as Hef’s Girlfriend was in 2004, the year I moved out of the Mansion. After doing Vegas and taking Manhattan, we capped off a trio of Playboy fiftieth anniversary bashes with a blowout New Year’s Eve spectacular at the Mansion. Minutes before the New Year arrived, we gathered on the dance floor, where we were swarmed by dozens of women hoping to kiss Hef, pushing and shoving, as balloons fell from the ceiling and engulfed the party. It was a fun way to bring in 2004 and a fitting way to celebrate the golden anniversary of the magazine.
The only time I really enjoyed the New Year’s Eve party was when my parents were visiting me for Christmas and they came to the party for a couple of hours. It was nice to share the experience with my parents, who had never been to a Mansion party; after all, this was the classiest party as far as the dress code and behavior went. My mom was excited to meet some actors from the soap opera she watches. My father was just mesmerized. Unfortunately there were not too many celebs other than ESPN’s Dan Patrick and Blink-182 drummer Travis Barker, who rang in the New Year in style alongside dozens of sexy Playmates. Because of my mom’s back condition, they weren’t able to stay too long, so I called Justin to pick them up at the back gate of the Mansion. I walked my parents out, and they got into his car. It was so hard to see him there on New Year’s Eve and not be able to walk him into the party. He wasn’t doing anything that night. He took my parents back to my apartment and hung out with them. It was things like that that made me appreciate him and really consider a future together when I left the Mansion.
Mardi Gras Party
A month and a half into the new year, we celebrated Mardi Gras. When I was first invited to the Mansion, this party was the Valentine’s Day party, but that concept wasn’t very successful. Playboy parties are mostly girls, and on Valentine’s Day, you are either with your partner or you are looking for one. On Valentine’s Day, Hef took us out for dinner and—as I said before—gave us a small gift, usually Playboy paraphernalia such as panties and tops. No diamonds or pearls like everyone imagined we got from our wealthy and famous boyfriend. Anyway, the party was then renamed the Mardi Gras party—a fun, provocative theme.
The Mansion was decorated in bright colors, and hundreds of beads were handed out. It seemed that more guys were invited and the party was a success. Some of the guests included Justin Timberlake, George and Geoff Stultz, AJ McClean, Matt Cedano, Seth Green, Wilmer Valderrama, and more. The sexual dynamic was increased—the men used the beads to get women to take off the very little clothing they had on to begin with. It was a fun, carefree party. The wild theme of the party allowed the guests to get even more creative with their outfits; many went topless, and outrageous feather and fur hats were seen everywhere. The Girlfriends wore whatever we could come up with. I remember one year Emma and I got matching little outfits: a frilly bra top and see-through pants (her lace was red; mine was pink). We were in Emma’s room and we were just about to go downstairs to the party when a girl that was hanging out with us arrived: she was wearing the same outfit as Emma. Normally, if another girl is wearing the same thing it is not more than mildly annoying. But this time was different because this girl was sleeping with Hef and hanging out with Hef and was therefore invited to sit at our table. We could not have two girls at the table wearing the same thing unless it was preplanned. I could see Emma was upset and didn’t know what to do. So I had to step up. I told the girl that she had to change her outfit. Emma and I were Hef’s Girlfriends, and we had planned for days to wear matching outfits, and I said I was sorry, but if she wanted to sit at our table, she would have to change. I then told Emma to show the girl some alternative outfits. Eventually she ended up putting on some psychedelic one-piece suit. She later complained that I bullied her. But I had to protect my friend’s interests, and I would have done that for any girl in the group. Despite our differences and internal problems, we were bonded. This girl was just a passerthrough, some girl Hef slept with occasionally but was not interested in and would never be a Girlfriend.
Hef’s Birthday Party
In April we celebrated Hef’s birthday all month long. Whatever clubs we attended on a regular basis would each hold a party for Hef—sometimes we attended three birthday bashes a week! They all tried to outdo each other with the cakes: Hef as a Simpsons character, a caricature of Hef, Hef with the girls. But the main event
was, of course, Hef’s birthday party at the Mansion, which was my second favorite of all of the parties. I find that a lot of interesting people tend to show up to wish Hef a happy birthday, including celebrities who do not attend our other parties. In addition, Hef’s birthday party is one of the two annual parties that are limited to 500 people, and it feels more intimate. Our table is located right at the entrance, so we get to see everyone who comes in.
As for the décor, it varies. For Hef’s seventy-sixth birthday pajama party, the Mansion was transformed into an art deco old Hollywood, where new Hollywood players Snoop Dogg, Drew Barrymore, David Schwimmer, Matthew Perry, Gavin Rossdale, and Kiefer Sutherland mingled with scantily clad women. After an early-evening screening of the James Cagney movie Footlight Parade with fifty of his closest friends, Hef emerged from the Mansion’s screening room to join the beautiful crowd with us by his side.
My favorite was when Snoop Dogg showed up at the party with the pimp Don Magic Juan. They had on their pimpest outfits and carried their own blinged-out chalices. Emma and I snuck away from our table the first chance we had to look for Snoop, and we found him outside sitting at one of the tables.
“What’s up Snoop? Welcome to our house!” we said.
“Wuz up, baby girl!”
Snoop then asked us if we cared for a smoke, and of course we said yes. He then proceeded to roll and pass over what looked like a cigar. Emma and I giggled before we even took a puff. Snoop ruled. He was so cool. He came back to the Mansion again to film an episode of Doggy Fizzle Televizzle and brought with him these election stickers that said “Hef/Dogg 2004: A finer, hotter nation.” It was hilarious.
Besides Snoop, my favorite person to see at Hef’s birthday party was Jack Nicholson. He was standing in the corner of the dining room when I saw him. I think he was a bit overwhelmed by all of the attention and left fairly quickly.
Hef’s party dress code was lingerie. Like with the other parties, anything goes really, but it was not as wild as Mardi Gras, not as whimsical as Midsummer Night’s, and less formal than New Year’s Eve. We usually wore something sexy and romantic—lots of lace and frills. One year, inspired by the Pussycat Dolls, I sported a faux-mohawk and dressed up my outfit with fishnets, stripes, stars, and bows. I think it was bit much for Hef, but the guests seemed to like it. On Hef’s actual birthday, we would go out to dinner unless the party fell on that date. The toughest thing about Hef’s birthday was getting him a birthday present. What do you get a man who has everything? Most of the time, we would get Hef photos of ourselves. In 2002, Emma, Lea, and I gave a him a photo of the three of us that he absolutely loved, and it became one of his favorites; he even put it in Playboy’s “Hanging with Hef ” section. It was a photo of the three of us naked, but posing in such a way that nothing was revealed. I was in the center, and Lea and Emma were on either side of me. Our hair was long enough to cover our nipples and our bodies were posed sideways so that nothing at all showed. It was a sexy yet subtle and elegant photo. Hef hung it up in an alcove with a light above it, located at the top of the stairs of the second floor. I heard it has since been replaced and stored away. Some of the other things Hef would get were stuffed animals. It wasn’t really worth getting him anything else because he is so set in his ways that introducing new things never worked. We usually did a group photo for his birthday, which was enlarged and displayed in the great hall so that Hef and the guests could see it upon arrival.
Midsummer Night’s Dream Party
This is the party of the year, the most famous of Mansion parties. Every August, the Midsummer Night’s Dream bash is the hottest ticket in Tinseltown. The theme of the party is fantasy, and the Mansion is transformed into a magical place. As the guests arrive, they see the Mansion sparkling in pink lights. As they enter, they see colorful flowers—the pool area is surrounded by plants, with flowers floating in the pool and beautiful mermaids lounging on the rocks surrounding the pool. The guests lounge on a veritable sea of colorful satin pillows, snacking on food from the sumptuous buffets. In 2003, the Mansion was turned into Mermaid Island for the annual bare-what-you-dare bash. A year later, it was a Greek bacchanal theme, where the lush grounds were decorated with giant statues of Greek goddesses and decorative flute-playing satyrs. This party seems to attract the most celebrities—not necessarily the most interesting ones, but the largest number. At 8 p.m., the gates were opened to a thousand friends—Playmates, Girlfriends, and celebrities, including Jenny McCarthy, Jimmy Kimmel, Sarah Silverman, Nikki Ziering, Tommy Lee, Michelle Rodriguez, Fred Durst, Marilyn Manson, J.C. Chasez, Leonardo DiCaprio, Tobey Maguire, Matthew Perry, Ali Landry, Jamie Foxx, Owen Wilson, Drew Carey, and Drew Barrymore. And to top off the star-power for the evening, Britney Spears arrived fashionably late. As testament to the party’s desirability, Mansion security worked double duty with Bel-Air Police to corral all the crashers who tried in vain to scale the walls. After all, you have some of Hollywood’s biggest names, rock stars, and hundreds of gorgeous women prancing about in the skimpiest of sleepwear.
It was to this party in 2002 that Stacy Burke wore the horse outfit with a gag in her mouth. Stacy is into fetish and bondage. I cannot help but laugh as I recall this; it was an ongoing joke among all of us. The girl was wearing a white lingerie outfit with a tail and hooves, and she had a gag in her mouth the whole night. It was over the top. We had never-ending fun with that, and soon after that, we voted her out of the group. So even though the Mansion is an open fantasy atmosphere, the fantasies do have their limits. It is not a free-for-all freak show.
Also at the same party, I met a couple who had paid $40,000 on eBay for an invitation. I went up to them and said, “I’m Hef’s Girlfriend. Is there anything I can do to help make this experience worthwhile? You paid so much money to be here.” They looked at each other and smiled. Then the wife said, “Yeah, you could go down on me!” I was speechless; I had been thinking more like an exclusive tour of the house. I laughed nervously and quickly walked away, mortified.
Then the busty British sexpot Jordan got totally wasted. She kept asking Hef if she could become a Girlfriend. Holly was getting jealous, and the whole thing was hilarious. But then Jordan began passing out on the table and we had to take her upstairs where she immediately crashed. We couldn’t wake her up, and we were scared. She could have taken something; we didn’t know. We called a doctor, but she turned out to be fine. I think she was just dealing with a lot of stress because her first baby had just been born blind. Jordan was really nice, and I wished she stayed longer. She flew back to the U.K. the next day with a bag full of Hello Kitty stuff for her bathroom.
Then there was a girl who tried out for Playmate and who played hard to get with Hef. When he lost interest, she tried anything to get into the group. I remember sitting at our table during the party talking to another Girlfriend when she suddenly grabbed my arm. “Will you kiss me?” she said with a heavy Southern twang. All I could think was, “Eww, no,” but I politely told her I could not. She ran off to the kitchen, crying to the butlers that she had been rejected. The freaks we had to put up with for Hef! There were some girls who really thought that most of the Girlfriends were into other girls, but that was simply not true. That party was a trip; it was one freak after another.
Halloween Party
The Halloween party at the Mansion is the most lavishly produced party, and it is amazing. It is my favorite party of the year! The usually tranquil Playboy Mansion is transformed into a wicked house of horrors. The decorations are incredible. In the front yard, we had personalized tombstones, and they are hilarious. Emma’s said “Stoned to Death,” Roxy, who is from the South, had one that said, “Too much Southern Comfort,” while Susan’s said, “From Neiman Marcus to Rigor Mortis.” Mine was boring, it said, “Legally Blonde.” Maybe it would have made more sense if it said, “Pronounced Legally Blonde”? The rooftop gargoyles glared from their perches, looking awesome flapping their wings. Monsters jumped out of the bushes, a gigantic, robotic
alien monster invaded the front lawn, and dismembered corpses oozed blood from guillotines along the driveway. The great hall is transformed into the “Hall of Heads,” and the walls are ringed with fanged ghouls, blood-soaked monsters, and bug-eyed freaks.
One of the scariest, and most popular, diversions at the party was a horrifying haunted house constructed on the tennis court, which featured killer clowns, axe-wielding psychopaths, the Exorcist, and Freddy. I am not easily frightened, but Hef’s haunted house is no joke—definitely not made by amateurs. Every year we began the party by walking through it and holding each others’ hands tightly, while the camera crews from various news stations and entertainment shows like Access Hollywood, Extra, or Entertainment Tonight followed us and captured every scream and terrified look. Then they showed it on the late night news. It was a lot of fun.
Another great thing about the Halloween party is the costumes. All of the girls and all of the guests really go out of their way to dress up; no homemade stuff, this is the real deal. In 2001, I spent Halloween with Hef before I actually joined the group; I dressed up as a ballerina; it was actually a really cute one-of-a-kind costume. Unfortunately, that is the infamous party when I did my own makeup (before I learned the tricks of the trade). I got completely drunk, and all of the pictures from that party are horrible. The years after that I was a “Sexy Biker Chick” and the “Rite of Spring”—I just wore some flowers on my underwear and bra. Truthfully, we tended to choose costumes not based on the theme but on which ones we looked hot wearing. As for the guests, the Halloween party attracted the crème de la crème of Hollywood. At the 2002 party, I saw an actor I had always thought was good-looking. I caught him checking me out, so I walked up and introduced myself. He then introduced me to his beautiful wife; I didn’t know he was married. We chatted, and I went on my way. Later on, they found me and gave me their number, just in case I wanted to “hang out” with the both of them. That was the first time I had been propositioned by a couple. (It was before the eBay couple.) They were both gorgeous and I was flattered in a way, but I was and still am way too chicken for things like that; I smile every time I see him on television.
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