It was 2014, I was 23. I had just moved in with my boyfriend of two months to this quaint little town we like to call Silver Lake. (lol) We found ourselves nestled at the top of Lyric Ave in a 1970s cabin surrounded by trees. I was living my best life. My boyfriend, would often get mail from his stepdad - little gifts, letters, random knickknacks. One day, he received the newest issue of Playboy magazine.
Playboy had been reaching out to a photographer I’d worked with a few times. From what I knew of the magazine and its creative direction, it had always been a hard no for me. To me, Playboy was The Girls Next Door, three platinum blondes sleeping with an 80-year-old man in hopes of landing a cover. The show was entertaining in my teen years, but it wasn’t something I ever aspired to.
I was a model. Signed to One Management in New York and Two Model Management in LA. I kept busy between modeling and the commercial career I’d had since I was 12. I had just landed a massive Subaru campaign and was on hold for the Emily Ratajkowski Carl’s Jr. campaign (which I ended up losing out to Sara Underwood… a Playboy Playmate.)
Could that have played into my decision? Maybe.
But the truth is, I was good. I was making real money and living with my boyfriend. This was when residual checks were really big residual checks. RIP
I had just signed a music publishing deal with a very hip company, one with a roster full of artists I was dying to work with. I was excited to break into the music world.
I didn’t need Playboy.
And I was never afraid of nudity. When I was first asked to pose nude for test shoots, it felt liberating. Maybe it was because I was raised in a Mormon family? Maybe because no one else around me was brave enough to do it? Or maybe because I liked to be different. I always found the female body beautiful. I believed in my art. Not everyone can be a good model. It’s an art form.
If you trust yourself, you trust the work.
I knew I was a good model. I always left set being told how great I did. And more than that—how much fun everyone had. That was part of my charm. I’m fun. I’m grateful. I’ve never walked around with an ego. Clients brought me back not just for how I looked, but because they genuinely liked me.
The day my boyfriend got that Playboy issue, I had never opened one before. Not even a cheeky 1970s copy. I flipped through it and saw a famous fashion photographer was shooting their campaigns now. Then I saw the Playmate of the month and thought, Wait a minute, I know her! I told him, “They’ve been asking me to audition, and I’ve turned them down every time… but this looks different.”
Turns out, they had a brand-new creative team. A man who had just left another promising company. I liked what I was seeing.
“Should I do this?” I asked.
So I emailed the contact I had and, in true 20s fashion, didn’t overthink it. My thought process was: If I get the cover, I get seen. If I get seen, more followers. I can make this cool again. This will be easy. LET’S MAKE PLAYBOY COOL AGAIN.
I was already shooting nude, for free. Why not make a little money? At the time, they were paying their Playmates $40k for a shoot. Sure, half gets taxed - but still, that was a good chunk of change in 2014. The woman got back to me quickly and scheduled a test shoot. You still had to audition, and then Hef had to personally approve you.
I got approved.
I told a couple people at my music publishing company and they swore I was going to ruin my career forever. I wonder how they feel about it now?
We’ll circle back to that thought…
Hef wanted me to shoot at the mansion. The first Playmate to do so since the ’70s. I told them I only wanted to shoot with Tony Kelly, and I only wanted to be on the cover if I did it. At the time, Tony shot campaigns for brands like American Apparel, Diesel, and Agent Provocateur, as well as celebrities like Miley Cyrus, Emily Ratajkowski, and Irina Shayk. He had a way of turning sex appeal into pop art. His recent Playboy shoots had clearly elevated the brand into something more fashion-forward, less “men’s mag” and more “coffee table book.” That’s what sold me.
I assumed the Playboy Mansion had calmed down over there, and they had. Hef was married and 90 at this point. It wasn’t the wild party scene it once was.
I worked out for a month. Got a bikini wax for the first time in my life. Got a little spray tan. I prepared for my big debut.
I trusted myself. I trusted the work. I knew it would be tasteful. I knew it would be cool.
I packed my bag and headed to Beverly Hills to the PLAYBOY MANSION. Wtf?
The moment I arrived, the valet took my car, which surprised me and made me forget my pack of cigarettes. The mansion was fully staffed but almost completely empty. Hef was having a game night with a few older gentlemen. They asked if I wanted to meet him. I said, "Of course."
The butler escorted me, and I briefly exchanged words with Hugh Hefner. I told him I was from San Diego, and he responded, “San Francisco?” That was about it, maybe two minutes in total. Afterward, I got settled into the guesthouse. The place was eerily quiet. I can’t stress that enough.
They let me order dinner in my room, like room service. I could pick anything I wanted. I ordered salmon, rice, and a glass of red wine and asked if there was any way they could find me a cigarette.
I texted with my boyfriend, got a little tipsy, and ended up swimming alone in the iconic grotto solo. I snapped a few pictures for him and eventually went to bed.
The next day felt big. It was a full crew, a full team—and not just any team, the best in the business. The hair and makeup artists had worked with all the biggest celebrities, and the stylist was top-tier. It felt legit.
Tony was great to work with. They shot me in retro-inspired scenes around the mansion, including under Hef’s original work desk with its famous green 1970s carpet. We shot in the grotto, on the trampoline, and on the tennis courts. It was honestly one of my favorite shoots I’ve ever done.
And yet… they didn’t use it.
Yes, after all that, they never used it.
I went to New York to work on music and model for a couple of months. I would spend my summers in New York 2014-2016. While I was there, I got a call that they needed to reshoot the entire thing. To this day, I still have no idea why. They told me they wanted me to “look more like Marilyn.”
It couldn’t have been more like Marilyn, but for whatever reason these photos could not be used.
The reshoot was still beautiful. Josh Ryan shot it in a single day (compared to the two days we spent on the first shoot). The vibe was definitely more romantic—less bright and playful. I love these photos, too, and a lot of people especially loved the Jaguar shots below.
That said, I was less prepared for this one. I didn’t make the cover, and the editorial was shared with a couple of other models, which was not what I originally agreed to.
We were supposed to shoot a video portion on another day with a team who wasn’t part of the new creative direction. They were part of the older Playboy world. I already had hesitation walking in there.
And I ended up walking off set. It was the day of my video shoot and I just thought — I have a music career. I didn’t like their direction. It wasn’t chic, it wasn’t cool, and it didn’t feel like me.
So I left.
I didn’t get the rest of my payment. I went to Hyperion Public and got drunk with my friends instead.
I will forever be known as the Playmate who walked off her own video shoot.
I love that for me.
When the photos came out, my Instagram following jumped from 20K to 50K — exactly what I’d hoped for. My modeling career immediately picked up. But it also complicated things.
Some clients hesitated because of the visibility and boldness of the images. It put me in a specific box. But it wasn’t necessarily bad. Keep in mind -
This was 10 years ago.
Shortly after, I left my agents and started booking my own work. From 2015 to 2020, I was able to sustain consistent modeling jobs. I became my own manager, creating concepts, pitching ideas to different clients I found myself, and booking a lot of work through word of mouth. Many campaigns and shoots came because people specifically wanted me, not a fashion model.
What I didn’t realize at the time was how much it would sexualize me and how little I thought about what that might mean as I got older. Or who could possibly see it.
As I shifted my focus toward music over the last 8-10 years, I’ve always embraced my sexuality, and for a while there, I really embraced it. But there came a point where I no longer wanted to be seen as just “sexy.” My audience, mostly men, didn’t transition easily with me into my music career. Over time, I started posting less “sexy” content and embraced being more authentically myself.
I’m not anti-sexy, and I’m not a prude. I’m just a lot more intentional now about how I want to be seen and who I want to be.
So, to answer the question we started with, Did this hinder my career? Not necessarily, but it's definitely been a difficult transition for me—not as easy as I thought it would be.
Because at that time - I didn't think about it at all. I was 23.
I don’t regret doing it.
But I do regret how small people tried to make me afterward. Like that was all I had to offer. It put me in a box I never signed up for. And it’s taken a long time to reclaim the full picture of who I actually am.
The truth? I’m not just someone who posed nude once for a magazine. I’ve worked in this industry for 20 years. I’ve lived many chapters. I’ve done many things. Things that I’m extremely proud of.
I’m someone who writes. Who creates. Who feels deeply. And who’s still unfolding.
That cover was a moment. Not the whole story.
My female friends think I’m an iconic trailblazer. They tell me the images, the decision — it’s something I should be proud of. And I am.
But the deeper I get into my music career, the less I want to talk about that side of my story. Or modeling at all, really.
I’ve accomplished far more than just that one title.
I don’t think it hindered my career, but it definitely made certain things, especially personally, more complicated.
If someone asked me today if they should do it, I’d tell them no. Because it never really disappears. That goes for nudity in general. Once it’s out there, it’s out there forever. Think hard before saying yes to something that lives forever.
But it is 2025. Nudity is just another day at this point. The biggest pop stars are out here wearing latex leotards on stage and nobody blinks. We’re desensitized. It’s not shocking anymore. It’s branding. It’s normal. But just because something is normalized doesn’t mean it’s without consequence.
So I’ll stick with my decision.
I’m a pioneer. A trendsetter.
So tell me, Can a real-life Playboy Playmate become an indie musician?
Until next time-
Sincerely,
Still here.
fabulous! Your strength is inspiring . instead of using your psst as a excuse , you use it stepping block to ride to the next level . keep it up ❤️