Vice so nice they did it thrice.
Above, a cover for a rare triple novel featuring the sleaze work of Joan Ellis, Jill Hammond, and March Hastings. We like how the stories cover three different stages of life—Teen-Age Sex Party is high school, Office Playmate is the working world, and Experiment in Adultery is married life. A follow-up triple included Middle-Aged Miscreants, Retired but Desired, and One Dick in the Grave. Well, not really. But we missed our calling, don't you think? The cover art here is from Paul Rader, and the copyright is 1968.
She was a woman of exceptionally high caliber.
We always thought it was weird that hip boots only come to mid-thigh, but we suppose if they came all the way to the hips they wouldn't be boots—they'd be a body cast. Above you see Wisconsin born actress Christa Helm, née Sandra Lynn Wohlfeil, in a promo made for her 1974 actioner Let's Go for Broke, in which she played the ass kicking Jackie Broke. It was one of only two movies she made, due to her unfortunate murder in 1977 at age twenty-seven by a still-unknown assailant who stabbed her thirty times.
Helm was a black belted practitioner of martial arts, but the prevailing theory, supported by forensic evidence, is that she was surprise attacked from behind. Because of the murder, she has attained a posthumous fame, partly kept alive by family members still seeking to solve the crime, and partly by a growing internet cult. We'd get into the story in detail, but others have written about it and done a thorough—if sometimes dubiously factual—job, so just appreciate the amazing photo. It's one of the cooler ones you'll ever see, and one of the very few of Helm that exist online.
Wait. Okay, you're right. No argument. I really messed up. But wouldn't it be an even bigger sin to shoot me?
Verne Tossey's cover art on this 1953 Signet paperback edition of Jack Webb's The Big Sin suggests that the sinner of the title is either the armed woman or her unseen target, but actually the sinner is someone who isn't even alive. It's a beautiful Mexican showgirl named Rose Alyce whose death has been ruled suicide by gunshot. But protagonist Father Shanley believes her death had more sinister origins, because Alyce was a devout Catholic he knew as sweet Rosa Mendez, and he's convinced she would never commit “the big sin.” You can only truly know someone inside the confessional booth, apparently. Shanley uncovers government corruption and teams up with detective Sam Golden on the way to solving the mystery, of which mobsters are an integral part. We ran across a beautiful dust jacket for the book from British publishers T. V. Boardman, which came from an interesting site called dustjackets.com that reproduces hardback sleeves for vintage books. That strikes us as a pretty cool idea. You can have a look at that site here.
Tabloid gets blue inside and out.
Above is another cover from the famed blue period of National Spotlite. Actually, all the covers are blue. We've literally never seen one that wasn't. The stories are predominantly blue, too, among them a piece by Jay Shanley titled “Girl Seduces Men for Homo Clients.” In addition to being sexual it's of course offensive as hell toward the gay community, but as phony tabloid stories goes it's more inventive than most. Shanley writes about a woman named Tina Conway who has a business seducing men for gay clients. She doesn't actually have sex with them. “I just get them heated up so that they'll take any form of sexing they can get.” Did this actually happen? We seriously doubt it, but Spotlite editors had to make sure they ticked the anti-gay box with each issue. For people who claimed to dispprove, they sure were obsessed. Just saying. This issue hit newsstands today in 1971.
She's got the best seat in the house.
Above is yet another awesome promo photo of Swedish sexploitation actress Christina Lindberg you've never seen before. We've featured her many times, with some of the images being the first ever to appear online, such as this one, this one, and these. This one isn't our scan. It's a download we scored years ago off a now defunct forum page, so consider it a re-up. We have a couple more from the same source and maybe we'll post those at some point.
All right guys, new rules—I've decided to speed this process up by taking you two at a time.
You're familiar with the Mann Act, right? Basically, it's a law that forbids transporting any female across state lines for debauched purposes. Generally, it was applied to men who had sex with underage girls, but not always. In One by One, the hero drives a dancer named Dolly Dawn from Los Angeles to Las Vegas and has sex with her, whereupon she threatens to call police and have him prosecuted under the Mann Act if he doesn't continue to indulge and take care of her. The action revolves around his repeatedly thwarted efforts to extricate himself from her sticky web. One very interesting aspect of the book is that it's a period piece, set nineteen years before its 1951 publication date. Also, if you're looking at the cover blurb and thinking “less morals” sounds weird, you're right that it's grammatically off. Morals is a plural noun, so you'd have fewer morals, not less. We imagine the editors knew that and wrote the blurb colloquially to connect with the reading audience. It probably didn't matter, because the cover art alone pretty much sells this book. But it's uncredited, which is a shame.
He'll learn any tune you want him to.
The above poster, with its sinister art, was made for the Japanese run of a 1970 French movie titled L'aveu, aka The Confession. It was directed by Costa-Gavras, who often delves into political themes, and here Yves Montand stars as a Czech communist party official named Anton who is one day followed, arrested without warrant, and thrown in jail without charge or access to legal counsel. He thinks it's a mistake but soon realizes party officials suspect him of treason and plan to extract a confession through whatever means are required. He's subjected to isolation, sleep deprivation, and rough treatment, all presented here unequivocally as torture. And indeed when the movie was made there was no doubt what it was. But these days, in the U.S., tens of millions of people and many government officials say it isn't torture—or worse, say it is torture and should be used more. For that reason the film, in the fullness of time, now offers a double lesson—its intended one about a Soviet empire that collapsed, and an unintended one about an American empire making the same mistakes. In L'aveu the state tries to forcibly program Anton; in the U.S. millions have been programmed to accept torture simply because the state has told them to. For us, it was all pretty hard to watch, but it's a damned good movie. It premiered in Japan today in 1971.
Okay, okay, I'll take out the garbage when I get home. Just let me finish this other thing first.
Our subhead is a little inside joke with the Pulp Intl. girlfriends. But not really that inside, because inside jokes can't be figured out by outsiders, whereas this is pretty straightforward—we always forget to take out the garbage. The look on the woman's face is perfect. We see it constantly. Cover artist Robert Stanley used this type of guileless expression often. He really had painting it down pat. There's only one explanation for that—he forgot about the garbage all the time too.
It's taken a few weeks, Tony, but I'm really starting to feel like a woman. I have like fifty useless receipts in my purse.
Above, a sound stage photo of Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon in costume for their roles in Some Like It Hot, in which they starred with Marilyn Monroe. The movie premiered today in 1959 in Memphis, Tennessee, for some reason, then hit Chicago, Washington, D.C., and New York City later in the month.
You brute! Why don't you enslave someone your own size!
Above, more Down Under goodness from Australia's Adam magazine, with a cover from this month in 1969 depicting a scene from Mark Bannerman's “Murder in Marseilles.” It's a tale of kidnapping and slavery, or as the author constantly puts it, “white slavery.” This is a term you run into often mid-century and pulp literature, and of course the idea is that enslaving white people must be specially pointed out, as it's presumed to be orders of magnitude more evil than just plain slavery. In this case, a “swarthy Algerian” is the villain, and a Marseillaise beauty is the target. Do we need to tell you this plot is foiled? Of course not.
Adam offers another interesting feature—a piece of factual journalism entitled “Wild Girls of the American Suburbs.” It's about apartment complexes for singles, which are described as if they're twenty-four hour sex parties. All of this being well before our time, we weren't sure if such places actually existed, but it seems they did, in locales all over the U.S., particularly San Francisco, the Jersey Shore, Myrtle Beach, and Fire Island. Apparently Los Angeles had a famous one called Villa Dionysus, which we can't help noticing would be initialed V.D. Hopefully a walk-in-clinic was somewhere in the same zip code. Twenty-seven scans below.
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