It’s February. Every year at this time I remember the most cringy moment of my career.

The year was 1987. As detailed in this earlier story, I was editor of Pizza Today magazine.

Our publisher, Gerry, bounded into my office one morning. As I swiveled from my computer to face him, I noticed he was bouncing up and down in his chair, smiling broadly.

I held my breath. This couldn’t be anything good.

And then he burst forth:

“Are you familiar with Sports Illustrated?”

My immediate thought: Oh, no! Gerry wants to do a swimsuit edition!

As much as I would have loved to be wrong, that’s exactly what he had in mind.

The designated issue would be that September, the 100-plus page “pre-Expo” edition. That should give me lots of time to talk him out of it, right?

My powers of persuasion failed me, I’m sorry to say. Gerry, a middle-aged, now-single guy, was determined to channel his inner-Guccione and create the first-ever swimsuit edition for a foodservice magazine.

Did I say first-ever? When I saw the cover design, I realized it was the “first annual.”

Our staff was nearly all female. I thought we were in for an all-out mutiny. Many demanded to have their name removed from the masthead that month. We bunch of “bored housewives” in Santa Claus, Indiana, were furious.

But Gerry had already lined up his photographer (a buddy from his military days) and a talent agency in Vegas.

… because that was the venue for our 1987 Pizza Expo trade show. Plus the models could make an appearance during the Expo. You know, to sign autographs and pose for more pictures.

Little by little, I was able to talk Gerry into a few minor concessions.

The rest of the issue would be a regular pizza-themed foodservice magazine packed with business advice, equipment reviews, and recipes. He would write the content and take the byline for what turned out to be a 10-page spread.

Under my breath, I referred to it as our “Pizza Ass” issue.

As the date for the photo shoot approached, I gave it one last try, “Gerry, what would you think of including men and children in swimsuits – you know, since pizza is a family food? We could show kids eating pizza, adults playing beach volleyball, with pizza boxes in the background …”

Gerry nodded at me dismissively. He’d already planned out the shoot and there was not even a single slice of pizza included.

Once our publisher departed for Vegas, our staff went into high gear mocking and moaning. My favorite suggestion was to include a pizza-flour handprint on one of the model’s posteriors. Now that’s branding!

Epilogue: Just as I felt it was safe to show my face among other foodservice editors at the International Foodservice Editors Council later that fall, it was quickly apparent memories of the swimsuit edition were everlasting. “How could you?! You singlehandedly set back women in trade magazines and trade shows by decades!” was the greeting I received from most of the female editors. I just shook my head. At the closing dinner, when highly coveted awards were given out, they broke from tradition and gave out a gag award. Gerry received the “first ever” Bob Guccione award. I sunk down in my seat, knowing that although a pizza-flour handprint may have not shown up on a model’s backside, it was on my resume forever.

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