Sexy! Sexy! Sexy!
by Joseph Turner
vol. 2 no. 12, 1958
Accompanying the pictures of
Bonnie Logan, the concave-and-convex-it-will-please-the-male-sex H-bomb
here on display, came the following brief but intriguing publicity puff,
entitled "It's the Gypsy in Her"--
"About twenty and five years
ago a blond Norwegian giant skippered his sailing yacht into the sun-drenched
port of Cadiz, Spain, on a pleasure cruise. The cruise was pleasent--and
romantic. He flipped his wig for a Spanish gypsy girl.
"He wooed her in the moonlight
and married her in Malaga.
"Three years later, the love-birds
were visiting his relatives in Wisconsin, U.S.A., where their blue-eyed
daughter was born.
"This is she. Take a gander
at the issue of that romantic bliss and martial connubiality. Bonnie Logan
(nee Norquist) is cool as Norsky and hot as a gypsy, yet American
as Eskimo pie.
"Now 22 summers, buxom and beautiful,
Bonnie calls Hollywood home. Her ambition is to become a singer in the
pop mode. During the past year, she had done stints as a typist, receptionist,
cocktail waitress, photographer's model, airline hostess and whatnot. She
was a showgirl at the Dunes in Las Vegas, but quit that $200-per-week job
because it looked like a dead end.
"Miss Logan's capsule history
of herself: 'I love steak, wild parties, sleeping nude, horseback
riding, swimming and--men, the most.' But she doesn't want to wed now,
because it would stymie her career as a canary.
"Bonnie designed for your looking
pleasure, has honey on her tongue and wants to pleasure you up with songs,
Brief, as above stated, but
intriguing--sufficiently so to rate an in-person interview. Viewed across
a booth-table in the coffee shop of the Hollywood Brown Derby, Bonnie Logan
verily a most enticing hunk of hormones (female) on the hoof. She is, statistic-wise,
five-feet four-and-a-half inches tall, weighs a trim 122 pounds and scores
sensationally on the tapes at an eye-popping 38-22-36. Furthermore, she
is a raring, tearing, brownette beauty, with a face right out of "Li'l
Abner," including a delightful sensuous, rather humorous mouth and a pair
of the largest, lightest, brightest blue eyes in captivity. Just looking
at Bonnie is a joy for all males and a cause for envy among all females
save those rare ones who can match her beauty or those of the philosophical
turn of mind who have voluntarily put themselves out of the running.
"Women, not men, are my biggest
problem," she admits in a low-pitched, enchantingly soft voice. "Ever since
I got the way I am now, they have hated me on sight. On buses or on the
street, they talk just loud enough for me to overhear them. And it's always
in what used to be the shameless-hussy vein."
Not unnaturally, this penalty
of her blooming loveliness and aura of sexiness, which she exudes as naturally
as she breathes, has caused Bonnie considerable distress. Recently, she
donned a sack dress in the hope of somewhat subduing her exuberant charms,
only to have a neighboring passenger on a bus stare at her as if she were
some sort of insect, then say, "Why don't you go home and put some clothes
Bonnie gave up the sack, if
not the ship, and resumed the relative normalcy of sweaters and Capris--only
to have another woman approach her on Sunset Boulevard and say, "Look at
the way those men are looking at your behind!"
By her own admission, it's all
a little discouraging. "It scares me--the thought that half the population
is automatically my enemy. But there doesn't seem to be much I can do about
it. After all, I can't help my figure."
Praise Allah for that!
Now, what about this gypsy bit?
Bonnie hesitates then replies, "As a matter of fact, I always believed
I was of pure Norse descent until Mother told me about it a few years ago.
Once again, there doesn't seem to be much I can do about it. Maybe my children,
when I have them, will look like gypsies--but I doubt it."
What about men, marriages and
such? Says Bonnie, "I'm normal, which means I've give love and sex and
all that a great deal of thought and some action."
Interesting--when does the action
come? Bonnie makes a charmingly rueful grimace, then says with a faint
smile, "I guess you could say it comes with the seasons--spring mostly.
I seem to feel it about four times a year. Right now, I guess you could
call me between seasons."
Anything serious? "Not yet--I'm
still on this career kick, and I haven't really got it off the ground.
There have been boys, sure--men, if you will. I know when I'm going to
fall in love--it's a chemical reaction the moment I meet a man."
What sort of man? "There's no
special type. They don't need to be handsome--or rich. Not that I'd object
to a man because he had money--but so far, nothing like that has come along.
Actually, I'm tired of boys who call up and apologize for their cars in
advance. I don't even care is a man has a car or not. As long as that chemical
reaction is working. I'm just as happy going for a walk with him--or not
going out at all. Falling in love is the greatest fun in the world--as
long as it's mutual. If it isn't, it's sheer torment."
Family background, early life
and so on? "I'd rather not talk about my family. They still live in Wisconsin.
They're not rich, or important, or anything. I just grew up there, near
Madison--that's where the university is, but I didn't go. I did live for
a while in the WGS House, practically on the campus--that's a residence
for working girls. And I modeled and did some little theater work there.
But mostly, I worked in a bank."
Bonnie has been on her own for
upwards of four years. "I planned for years to break away when I came of
age. I started out on my own right after my eighteenth birthday."
She reached Hollywood in November
of 1955 and hated it at first. The smog was dreadful just then, and, after
the clear cool air of her native Wisconsin, Bonnie found it unbearable.
Now, however, she loves it.
"I learned to skate and ski
like all the other kids around home," she admits, "but I don't care if
I never see snow again. I'd a lot rather ride horseback or swim. Not that
I'm much good in the water--I like to dog-paddle around in somebody's pool
whenever I get a chance. The ocean is too cold--and rough."
Bonnie, like so many girls with
beautiful bodies, was once a tomboy. "I guess you could call me a teen-age
bannister slider. And I still like to climb trees. Once I was reaching
for an apple and fell out on my head. They say no grass had grown since
where I landed."
Beauty contests? :Just one.
I tries out for the Dane County, Wisconsin, Potato Queen once. " Who one?
"Oh--some girl. Not me. I was awfully young then, and didn't have my present
measurements. Maybe it made a difference."
Outside of the penchant for
sleeping with her flamboyant curves uninhibited by pajamas or nighties,
what happens to her when she turns in? "I dream real goofy dreams--crazy
ones. And always in color. They tell me only one person in five dreams
in color, but I don't see how anyone can dream in black-and-white. After
all, dreams are a sort of reproduction of life, and everything in life
What's the worst thing that
ever happened to Bonnie? "Well, I was fired from a job once--as an elevator
operator. I used to stop between floors all the time to eat candy bars
or chat with my friends. But I really wanted to get fired from that job,
so it wasn't really so terrible.
"I guess the worst thing happened
back in Wisconsin. I was coming home with the groceries when I saw a car
hit by a train. Like a dope, I ran over to take a look--ugh! The
police hadn't gotten there yet. It was horrible. I had hysterics. I guess
I'd never make much of a nurse. It took me a long time to get over that
The best thing that ever happened
to her? "I guess it was appearing on the Alfred Hitchcock show. I really
want to be an actress, and I study all the time and take courses whenever
I can wangle one."
What about that singing bit?
"I'd like to make records and sing in clubs or on the stage. I've got
a deep voice--contralto. If it will help my career, I want it."
And what about the brief Vegas
pitch? "I liked the money but I didn't like Las Vegas much. All that heat,
and all those days with nothing to do. The shows were okay, but I didn't
seem to be going anywhere."
Certainly, it's a switch on
most girls dead set on crashing Hollywood. But then, Bonnie is a most unusual
starlet. Certainly, she's an independent miss--"Too independent, sometimes,
I'm afraid," she admits.
And what about this wild party
bit? She laughs, a little embarrassed, but only briefly. "I didn't really
say that," she admits. "I love parties--sure. I seem to come to life all
over a good party." And what sort of clothes does she prefer to wear to
such gatherings? "Tight ones. If they're too tight for me to sit down,
I either wear a slit dress of hoist my skirt up."
What else? "I read a lot--mostly
fiction. I liked Meyer Levin's 'Compulsion' and Aldous Huxley's 'Brave
New World.' I go for science fiction, too. But I'm really crazy about poetry.
No particular poet, though I go for Emily Dickenson and Elizabeth Barrett
Browning's 'Sonnets from the Portuguese,' but usually I read for the poem,
not the poet. I even write it myself--no I'd never let anyone else read
it. I write it just for me."
What about the immediate future?
'Well, I can't wait forever for TV jobs. There's a promotion deal on for
reducing couches--I may do it if the offer proves solid, as a demonstrator.
It will pay well, but..." She shrugs and looks thoughtful.
And the love life? "Right now,
it's very, very slow. No messages received lately. But that doesn't worry
me--something will come along."
You look at Bonnie, and you
know that's true, and you wish like blazes you could be the one to get
that next message through. For this is a very sweet gal indeed, no matter
what the old biddies say on the street and in the buses. They should look
like her, and have her disposition and charm and guts!