BABES IN BOYLAND
Beyonce, body paint and (Jimmy) Buffett — this year’s Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue is packed with, uh, the same stuff it always has: hot girls and little fabric.
The just-out 2007 issue has a music theme, complete with a guitar-pick bikini and one model donning nothing but a strategically placed iPod. Here’s a woman’s trek through the latest skinfest. keckert@dispatch.com
COVER
Beyonce is already hot. No need for the ridiculous airbrushing, people.
PAGE 6
Gee, I bet the prop guy who rubbed sand on Marisa Miller where bikini bottoms otherwise might have been was bummed about that gig.
PAGE 22
Did Russian model Irina really list Unbreak My Heart as the top song on her playlist?
PAGE 38
I read the names of the pro athletes these models dream of meeting and wonder: Do these guys’ buddies tack these in their lockers with “Attaboy” notes?
PAGE 58
Twenty swimsuit models are shown in 20 separate photos with one special guitar. It’s like one of those traveling paper dolls from first grade — with a little better action than Joey’s grandma’s trip to Portugal.
PAGE 66
Sigh. I can run, swim, practice yoga and do crunches until my abs ache, and my stomach is never going to look like that. Ever. Option 1: Sulk. Option 2: Cut another brownie from the pan.
PAGE 74
Are those bottoms or a guitar strap wrapped around her hips? PAGE 80 Marisa Miller (again). Life isn’t fair.
PAGE 97
I’m pretty sure that fresh highlights won’t make me look like Anne V, but I make a mental note to schedule an appointment in the morning.
PAGE 108
Is Kanye West that short? Or is the woman next to him, like, 7 feet?
PAGE 110
If I could steal just 2 inches off her legs, I swear I’d never complain about any body part again.
PAGE 112
If Kenny Chesney ever seemed this interested in Renee Zellweger, maybe their marriage would have lasted longer than four months.
PAGE 120
Painted-on suits spark one thought: an incredible bikini waxer.
PAGE 127
Someone toss her a doughnut before that hipbone pops out of her skin! And pass the brownie pan again.
PAGE 134
A few pages of Beyonce, and I stop blaming my husband for wanting so desperately to be Jay-Z.
PAGE 142
I bet that not one man reading this notices that nearly all of Beyonce’s suits have been designed by House of Dereon, a label owned by the singer and her mom. And, yes, I realize that none cares.
PAGES 192-193
Six guys from the Grambling State band hold a model’s nearly naked body. The smirk of the guy who’s holding prime real estate is the most genuine expression of subdued glee I have ever seen.
PAGE 199
This is, by my count, the third making-out-with-a-drum photo. What gives?
PAGE 237
Dear Marisa Miller: I officially hate you. But hats off, girlfriend. It’s obvious your abs require work besides toilethovering. I’m just glad you don’t work out at my gym.
