Before Karen Brown in the mid 1970s, the literally "Golden" girl with the 70+ inch chest who epitomized the meaning of plumper in erotic photography; before Kristen Andersen aka Darla Hood aka Susan Burton aka Smiley in the early 1970s, with eyes to die for and a superb belly (see my other post), a fantastically cute Polish model named Caruska broke the glamour and pinup mold. Essentially, she couldn't squeeze into it.
She is Matron Saint of full-figured models of Generation X. Fans of both Brown and Hood-Andersen need to dig a little deeper and soak up the jus at the roots. Dip that mental hoagie in a little Caruska! This cover from Climax [v17 n 10, Oct 1971] has proved to be one of her earliest mass-market photo shoots. Featured inside is a Keith Bernard black-white-color layout, and nude to boot! Her turtle is on-site, and likely the company is what drove Michelangelo to be such a party dude.
Even in horizontal pose her fullness is apparent, abundant you might imagine, to the point where two masses meet an opposing force and create a rift; dimples in surplus.
One notes the tiny feet. These tiny feet, couple with her well-formed thighs and calves, grabbed the attention of a fetish photographer named Elmer Batters, a gentleman looking for work and finding it at the ready in California. All the models went to California, notably Hollywood, to find work in film and inevitably wound around the fingertips of eager and hungry photographers as a means of breaking into the scene. Caruska was immediate eye candy to Batters, who found her at Pretty Girl International in Hollywood, the photog too exhausted from "call girls" who'd rather be screwed than shot. He'd hole-up at a motel, and indeed it was a capital M-Motel, where he could seed out his seediness, where his concierge would ring the local flesh (often the easiest of subjects to acquire), and he could grab his thing and shoot away. Batts paid them fifty bucks a day, so for the time and for a model hungry not only for exposure but for her next meal, it was fair. Caruska was however hungry only for the exposure, and with such precious stores in tow, your author would gladly take shelter with Caruska and her healthy supply in any fallout.
One can appreciate the fact that she was not shy, and relish in the product. With a seemingly perfect Rubenesque carving, hips and tan-lines purporting the tagline,"To Acknowledge the Divine is Relative, But Allow Me to Relate My Divination," Ruski subtly explodes in the development as we do, not so subtly.
Where the Shit are you, Caruschka? Does your turtle wade in Heaven's Pool with you, or are you raking in the pension plan benefits? Write me a letter baby, we can be pen pals. Wrap my birthday present in a stocking from the 70s, a bra from the 80s, submit your spectacles from the 90s, remit a flat-heeled slipper from ten years passed, and yours truly opines when we meet we'll be splashing with Michelangelo.
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| 1996, Taschen Amuse-Guele, tiny book with two gatefolds = awesome |
