The soft, pliant Playboy bunny should be put down

12 April 2012

Everyone loves a bunny, right? Floppy ears, those sweet little faces, twitching whiskers. So you might think that the birthday of one of the lapin world's most famous members is a cause for celebration.

This year, the Playboy Bunny and the clubs which bear her bow-tied image are entering their sixth decade. No matter that Little Miss Lapin has already had one 50th anniversary — seven years ago for the entire Playboy empire — this time, she is having a hell of a knees-up. In June, the company is hosting "the world's sexiest party" in Playboy clubs in 50 cities, including our own.

But this isn't just a chance to join in the non-stop bikini fest that Hugh Hefner has enjoyed for most of his 84 years.

As part of the festivities, the Andy Warhol museum in Pittsburgh has asked artists to come up with a bunny "for the future", displayed in an exhibition later this month. It seems the bosses at Playboy Enterprises want us to think that it isn't just a smutty pornography producer but that the brand has cultural significance.

I'm hoping that one of these artists will draw a rabbit with a noose around its neck. Because at 50, this is one damaging doe who deserves to be put down.

In the recent debate about the sexualisation of children, she was rightly cast as one of the villains thanks to the flogging of Playboy pencil cases and pyjamas to under-18s.

But no one then asked why so many women would want to have this logo emblazoned across their chests and bags. The vast majority of bunny-branded goods are sold to female shoppers.

At university, I misguidedly thought that the bunny was funny; that going clubbing in Cottontail's ears was somehow ironic.

Then I read the reason Hef had picked the rabbit as his company mascot and I cringed. In 1967, he told a journalist: "It is a fresh animal You feel like caressing it, playing with it. A girl resembles a bunny: joyful, joking." The playmate's appeal, he said, was that: "She is never sophisticated we are not interested in the mysterious, difficult woman, the femme fatale."

As a difficult female myself, just typing his quote makes me queasy. Women then were battling to be treated as fully-fledged human beings, not as something to be played with, petted and pawed. The enduring appeal of females dressed up as this "simple" animal suggests the struggle has not entirely been won.

Hefner never could understand why feminists hated him so, since he believed that they should be united in the fight for sexual liberation. But his is a one-sided form of liberation: with his one-dimensional Playmates, he appears little different from the pervy relative who asks you to sit on his lap and "give uncle a kiss".

Hefner may think he loves women but what he really loves is the kind who pander to his whims — be it his platinum blonde harem or us schmucks who buy Playboy-branded goods. His creation, the Playboy bunny, is a throwback to a time when women couldn't complain: after all, she doesn't even have a mouth.

Feminists never actually burned bras but if we had a bonfire of bunny ears, mine would be first on the pyre.

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