Pilots' Pals
However if you wish to go down this route I personaly know a lady that did a lot stronger than a slightly teasy calendar in the late 80s. Her personal view of it is that she had the time of her life! 99% of the people that were involved were in her words "professional". For her getting paid was a bonus, nobody forced her or put a gun to her head. It was a job, simple as that.
Its the 1% as always that put a bad vibe on these things.
I was 16 in 1988, so they were not aimed at grandfathers! but back then at 16, all I was bothered about was beer, women and airplanes!! not in that order. A modern perspective on something from 30 to 40 years ago is not how it was thought of then.
Last edited by gravedigger666; 25th May 2023 at 22:03.
Some of the girls were only 16
Thats like asking if men are no longer attracted to women!
One way of seeing this is the mind experiment of 'would you encourage your daughter to be exposed in this way?' perhaps that may take the money out of the equation.
I speak as a father whose daughter was attacked by someone whose 'deviation' had become normalised by repeated exposure to sexualised images that had been made for profit. Both my daughter and her attacker suffered from this type of exploitation.
Last edited by beardy; 26th May 2023 at 07:24.
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As were the girls appearing topless on the Sun page three newspaper, it was just a thing of the time, we have moved on from that these days.
As Sam Fox bats for the opposition, that should read:
No not a crime. Nice and pretty girls as they may well have been, was it ethical to capitalise the sexualisation of 16 year olds and sell the images to women old enough to be their grandmothers?
Previously, printing images of women aged 16 or 17 on Page 3 was deemed acceptable. In 1983, Sam Fox was the youngest at only 16 when she first featured topless in the paper with the headline 'Sam, 16, Quits A-Levels for Ooh-Levels'.
However, the passing of the Sexual Offences Act in 2003 resulted in the minimum age for women posing on Page 3 being raised to 18. This now means that all former images featuring women under 18 are now potentially illegal.
However, the passing of the Sexual Offences Act in 2003 resulted in the minimum age for women posing on Page 3 being raised to 18. This now means that all former images featuring women under 18 are now potentially illegal.
No not a crime. Nice and pretty girls as they may well have been, was it ethical to capitalise the sexualisation of 16 year olds and sell the images to women old enough to be their grandmothers?
No-one I ever knew who knew whatt STUPRECC-ing was all about would ever worry about triv such as Pilots' Pals....
Some nice Gnat videos on Dr FOD part one too!!
Some nice Gnat videos on Dr FOD part one too!!
Perhaps they were, and I'll bet a penny to a pound that none were coerced in any fashion to take part, in deed, I'll further bet they were enthusiastic regarding their participation. Heavens to be, some may have taken up a position connected with aviation as a result, as pilot even, perhaps in the military. As I said, I can go to the beach and see more flesh on display and of any age.
Walking back to the OM at St. Athan after a static display, we were surprised when a minibus screeched to a halt next to us... "This is a bum fondling bus", announced one of the occupants. Who were the 'Superkings Girls', and such a happy gang. So we invited them to the OM post-airshow party where they had a great time. The Air Cdre thought they were delightful!
A group of young ladies having playful fun. No doubt the 'gen wet pronoun wearing whingers' of today would have hated it though, had they been around at the time 30-ish years ago!
A group of young ladies having playful fun. No doubt the 'gen wet pronoun wearing whingers' of today would have hated it though, had they been around at the time 30-ish years ago!
Last edited by BEagle; 26th May 2023 at 22:04.
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Maybe so, but not printed in your newspaper and ogled over by a bunch of crack flashing builders tucking into a bacon buttie at mid day. Nor a flash of vinegar soaked nipple showing through from under your portion of fish and chips.
Avoid imitations
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Surely this is just a storm in a D-cup.
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Best no-one mentions the ‘Sunday Night Debauch’ following the RIATs of the early 90s!!! 👀 🤭 😎 Ooops…😁
PS…before anyone jumps on the ‘perma-offended’ bandwagon, I should add - pretentiously (mis?) quoting Cicero - ‘O Tempora! O Mores!
PS…before anyone jumps on the ‘perma-offended’ bandwagon, I should add - pretentiously (mis?) quoting Cicero - ‘O Tempora! O Mores!
Last edited by OJ 72; 27th May 2023 at 10:13.
Gentleman Aviator
Indeed so OJ 72. One recalls - a little earlier, maybe 80s? - air show "groupies" not only scoring "notches" for display pilots "entertained", but extra points for doing it in the cockpit!! [allegedly]
Walking back to the OM at St. Athan after a static display, we were surprised when a minibus screeched to a halt next to us... "This is a bum fondling bus", announced one of the occupants. Who were the 'Superkings Girls', and such a happy gang. So we invited them to the OM post-airshow party where they had a great time. The Air Cdre thought they were delightful!
A group of young ladies having playful fun. No doubt the 'gen wet pronoun wearing whingers' of today would have hated it though, had they been around at the time 30-ish years ago!
A group of young ladies having playful fun. No doubt the 'gen wet pronoun wearing whingers' of today would have hated it though, had they been around at the time 30-ish years ago!
I had a 'Pilots Pals' calendar in the late 80s (*), which I had delivered to me at work. In the office where I worked I seemed to have managed to get a 'prime desk' without really trying or asking. It was in one corner, at the end of the long office, had a nice window overlooking green fields, etc. It was considered a prime spot as you could see almost the entire length of the office, you see people approaching long before they got to you, and there was nobody behind you to look over your shoulder.
The day that the calendar was delivered it was brought to me by a young-ish lady who'd slapped a post-it note on it saying 'this degrades women'. It probably didn't help that she looked like a bulldog chewing a wasp, and had zero chance of appearing in such a calendar; she might have been useful as a wheel-chock, maybe. What probably didn't help was that I put a post-it note on top of hers saying 'Yes!'. I put the calendar face-down, still sealed in its packaging, and carried on about my business.
After lunch I came back to find it had been placed into the bin next to my desk, still in its plastic bag, still with the post-it notes attached. So, I fished it out, put it back on my desk, and carried on. I could see her giving me the evil-eye down the length of the office!
The following morning it was back in the bin again, so I made a big act of fishing it out again, but I did throw-away the post-it notes. I pinned the calendar face down, still inside its bag, onto the desk divider behind my computer screen. Just about the only place you could see the calendar was if you climbed-up a ladder and peered through the window. Apparently that was not enough for her.
A few months later she went off on a training course (basket-weaving or wimmins-studies for all I care!), so I bought her a desk calendar. It was either fireman or tyre-fitters, but all oily and sweating. She seemed to be okay with that!
(*) - I might still have it somewhere, still in its original polythene delivery packaging.
The day that the calendar was delivered it was brought to me by a young-ish lady who'd slapped a post-it note on it saying 'this degrades women'. It probably didn't help that she looked like a bulldog chewing a wasp, and had zero chance of appearing in such a calendar; she might have been useful as a wheel-chock, maybe. What probably didn't help was that I put a post-it note on top of hers saying 'Yes!'. I put the calendar face-down, still sealed in its packaging, and carried on about my business.
After lunch I came back to find it had been placed into the bin next to my desk, still in its plastic bag, still with the post-it notes attached. So, I fished it out, put it back on my desk, and carried on. I could see her giving me the evil-eye down the length of the office!
The following morning it was back in the bin again, so I made a big act of fishing it out again, but I did throw-away the post-it notes. I pinned the calendar face down, still inside its bag, onto the desk divider behind my computer screen. Just about the only place you could see the calendar was if you climbed-up a ladder and peered through the window. Apparently that was not enough for her.
A few months later she went off on a training course (basket-weaving or wimmins-studies for all I care!), so I bought her a desk calendar. It was either fireman or tyre-fitters, but all oily and sweating. She seemed to be okay with that!
(*) - I might still have it somewhere, still in its original polythene delivery packaging.
I had a 'Pilots Pals' calendar in the late 80s (*), which I had delivered to me at work. In the office where I worked I seemed to have managed to get a 'prime desk' without really trying or asking. It was in one corner, at the end of the long office, had a nice window overlooking green fields, etc. It was considered a prime spot as you could see almost the entire length of the office, you see people approaching long before they got to you, and there was nobody behind you to look over your shoulder.
The day that the calendar was delivered it was brought to me by a young-ish lady who'd slapped a post-it note on it saying 'this degrades women'. It probably didn't help that she looked like a bulldog chewing a wasp, and had zero chance of appearing in such a calendar; she might have been useful as a wheel-chock, maybe. What probably didn't help was that I put a post-it note on top of hers saying 'Yes!'. I put the calendar face-down, still sealed in its packaging, and carried on about my business.
After lunch I came back to find it had been placed into the bin next to my desk, still in its plastic bag, still with the post-it notes attached. So, I fished it out, put it back on my desk, and carried on. I could see her giving me the evil-eye down the length of the office!
The following morning it was back in the bin again, so I made a big act of fishing it out again, but I did throw-away the post-it notes. I pinned the calendar face down, still inside its bag, onto the desk divider behind my computer screen. Just about the only place you could see the calendar was if you climbed-up a ladder and peered through the window. Apparently that was not enough for her.
A few months later she went off on a training course (basket-weaving or wimmins-studies for all I care!), so I bought her a desk calendar. It was either fireman or tyre-fitters, but all oily and sweating. She seemed to be okay with that!
(*) - I might still have it somewhere, still in its original polythene delivery packaging.
The day that the calendar was delivered it was brought to me by a young-ish lady who'd slapped a post-it note on it saying 'this degrades women'. It probably didn't help that she looked like a bulldog chewing a wasp, and had zero chance of appearing in such a calendar; she might have been useful as a wheel-chock, maybe. What probably didn't help was that I put a post-it note on top of hers saying 'Yes!'. I put the calendar face-down, still sealed in its packaging, and carried on about my business.
After lunch I came back to find it had been placed into the bin next to my desk, still in its plastic bag, still with the post-it notes attached. So, I fished it out, put it back on my desk, and carried on. I could see her giving me the evil-eye down the length of the office!
The following morning it was back in the bin again, so I made a big act of fishing it out again, but I did throw-away the post-it notes. I pinned the calendar face down, still inside its bag, onto the desk divider behind my computer screen. Just about the only place you could see the calendar was if you climbed-up a ladder and peered through the window. Apparently that was not enough for her.
A few months later she went off on a training course (basket-weaving or wimmins-studies for all I care!), so I bought her a desk calendar. It was either fireman or tyre-fitters, but all oily and sweating. She seemed to be okay with that!
(*) - I might still have it somewhere, still in its original polythene delivery packaging.
Last edited by mopardave; 4th Jun 2023 at 11:39. Reason: spelling
I remember appearing in a firefighters calendar! I was Mr May.........still have it. We were sick of seeing all these oiled up Greek God's in fire kit so we did our own.......the real firefighters calendar. It featured 12 blokes with paunches, bald heads or bags under their eyes. In some cases, all three combined. No, wait a minute.......one guy took it really seriously. The station cook put us up to it and she was the one responsible for the paunches! It had a (very) limited run but was great fun! Happy, happy days! As we used to say............"If you can't take a joke........................."
so guess you all did not look like this lol
Tech question, Defence Fire Services across the RAF stations and the 2 naval air stations, and two AAC bases don't wear silver suits like their US counterparts. ...be it at Lakenheath / Mildenhall or further afield in Europe at likes of Ramstein, Spang, Sigonella, Rota,
cheers
USAF / US DoD civilians / locally employed civilian firefighters also wear the newer type of protective clothing these days
RAF Fairford:
RAF Lakenheath:
Nellis AFB:
RAF Fairford:
RAF Lakenheath:
Nellis AFB:
