10 Things To Know About The Weekend Women
Kim du Toit
July 20, 2005
1:05 AM CDT
Before you browse among the Weekend Women featured in this department, it behooves me to make the following things clear:
1. All the pictures are tastefully posed—no nipples, no frontal nudity, no pudenda. A few ladies feature sheer, translucent clothing which leave little to the imagination—but those pictures might have appeared in any mainstream magazine. In fact, almost all did.
2. These are mostly women who have held my imagination since early adolescence. Call it my personal shrine to pulchritude.
3. The term “Weekend Women” is an affectionate one—from the times when men called women a “stand-up dame” and meant it as a compliment.
4. With only a very few exceptions, the women pictured herein reflect my own taste in women—which means mostly redheads, blondes and a few tasty brunettes. There are no token Black women, or Asian women—not because I don’t like those, but because I love redheads, blondes and a few tasty brunettes, to the exclusion of all others.
5. These Weekend Women are also what’s known as “zaftig”—no stick figures here, unless in jest or by way of comparison. Once again, that’s my personal preference. Chalk it up to my Afrikaner heritage—where the joke goes: “The reason Afrikaners prefer big, strong women is that when the oxen get sick, someone has to pull the wagon.”
6. Occasionally, I have yielded to public pressure, and featured someone who wouldn’t ordinarily have made the cut (Morgan Fairchild, call your office). Mostly, I have regretted those occasions.
7. I think the actresses of the 1940s, 1950s and early 1960s had it over their successors, in just about every way imaginable. Certainly, the likes of Virginia Mayo, Sophia Loren and Ann-Margret are far more desirable than any young actress of the 21st century.
8. I’m not related to Elize du Toit.
9. There are also half a dozen features of “Hunks”—because my few Lady Readers also deserve a little consideration, and a chance to sigh with longing.
10. Finally, to those who consider this kind of thing to be “exploitation” or “demeaning”: nonsense. I’m a man: I love women, love them with a passion, and I respect them all. I see no reason why I shouldn’t admit as much. It’s also why there’s no explicit language or leering language in my write-ups.
I love them all, and I hope you do, too. Each one has claimed a little piece of my heart over the years, some more than others, and a few a lot more than others. Such as Ann-Margret:
Weekend Women
