The Other Swimsuit Issue

January 31, 2003

National Geographic released its swimsuit issue yesterday, and that says more about us than it does about them.

You see, National Geographic has never been in the "crass commercialization" business.  The organization that produces this magazine dates back to 1888, when a group of geographers, explorers, teachers, etc. met at Washington D.C.'s Cosmos Club to create the National Geographic Society.

"The men embodied an era that was marked by exploration, discovery, invention, and change," according to the Society web page. "Americans were energetic, ambitious, optimistic, and curious for new information about the world around them. It was clear to the men assembled at the Cosmos Club that a vehicle was needed to satisfy that desire for knowledge."

Well, nine months after the Society was founded, the first National Geographic magazine was published.  Its pages were to be "open to all persons interested in geography, in the hope that it may become a channel of intercommunication, stimulate geographic investigation and prove an acceptable medium for the publication of results."

And one hundred and twelve years later, the magazine is more stimulating than ever.

I went to its swimsuit page on the web. The very first image displays is a curvy woman in a polka dot swimsuit. She's being chased by a dolphin, who, I'm certain, is doing what I would do: trying to get a closer look.

By clicking on another babe at the bottom left of the page, I was able to "surf through 100 years of swimsuits." And what a century it was.  Swimming didn't become popular until early in the 20th century, you see, but what we swim in has always reflected our changing values.

In the old days even men wore tops when they swam; men didn't start going topless until the 1930's.  And women started out wearing "cover up" swimsuits with heavy stockings and shoes.  It wasn't until the 1940's that they began wearing two-piece suits. And things sure have evolved since then.

But the question is, why are the editors of the National Geographic Magazine suddenly in the babes and bikini business?

"The whole issue is just a retrospective of how people have dressed to have fun in the water over the last century," said Bill Allen, National Geographic's editor in chief, in a Reuter's article.  "If you look through the magazine, you'll see that there are people in all stages of dress and all kinds of bathing costumes, so it's very much in keeping with the whole cultural history of the world, which is what National Geographic portrays."

Oh, really?

If cultural history is what we're really interested in, then why, a la Sports Illustrated, is the magazine's cover graced by Hanna Hobensack, a fashion design student in Sydney, Australia, who is wearing (yowsa!) only three scallop shells?

And why does another photo, shot in 1988, display a couple of bare backsides from Cable Beach's "clothing optional" zone at Broome, Australia?

And why does a 1917 photo display two bare-breasted women from the Marquesas Islands, "where women dressed simply for the Polynesian weather -- to the dismay of Western missionaries?"

I'll tell you why. Because we Americans may be ignorant about geography, but, ever since Clinton was president, we know plenty about biology. And biology sells. And the National Geographic people are using their swimsuit issue to sell, sell, sell.

On the swimsuit page on the web, you can register for a free trip to the Galapagos Islands (that's near Cleveland, isn't it?), but first you have to key in your name, address, income level, etc, so that telemarketers can get at you.

You can e-mail bikini babe post cards to friends, which is a clever way to promote the swimsuit issue. And you can also participate in a contest to determine which of three photos you would have selected for the magazine cover (hint: the two with the skimpy threads are way ahead of the lady in the heavy garment in the voting).

This is because National Geographic knows that to make their carefully researched publication compelling to our minds, they must first capture our libidos. It's a classic case of bait and switch. I applaud them for it.

And I can't wait to get a copy of the print issue. I can't wait to see those egg shells close up.

Tom Purcell