Bunnies' tales: As the Playboy Club rises again, Britain's first Bunny Girls reveal all about life as a floppy-eared flirt

Tonight, 30 years after shutting its doors, the Playboy Club will once again be open for business on London’s Park Lane. 

While many now believe it to be sexist and outdated there’s no doubt that, in its heyday, the club was the place for the rich and famous to be seen.

But what was it like to work there? Here, three former bunny girls tell Lynne Wallis about their time in bunny ears...

Bunnies' tales: Susan Smith, left, Barbara Haigh, centre, and Linda Bishop all worked in the Playboy Club in London during its heyday

It was like being in a James Bond film

Linda Bishop, 62, is a property  developer. She lives with her third  husband in Axbridge, Somerset.

Awestruck: Lucy Bishop left a job as a lab technician to become a Bunny Girl aged 19. She lasted 10 years

In the summer of 1968 I was working as a trainee lab technician at a plastics factory in Swindon. Hardly glamorous!

Then I saw an advert in Vanity Fair for bunny girls and decided to apply by letter, as I was desperate to live an exciting life in London.

At my interview, I was completely awestruck by how sumptuous the club was. It was like something you’d see in a James Bond film. The club preferred wholesome-looking girls to overtly sexy ones, and that’s probably why I was offered the job. 

My uncle, a vicar, tried to talk me out of it by saying it was not a place for a young lady like me to be working, but I didn’t listen.

There was already a Linda there so — like all the girls with common names — I had to find an alternative, which is how I became Bunny Lucy. 

I had to undergo a month’s training before my debut, during which I learnt about wines, spirits and cocktail mixing. I was also taught how to serve drinks in the right order so that the tray would balance, and how to bend from the knee so that a customer wouldn’t get an eyeful of cleavage. This was known as the ‘bunny dip’. 

We were expected to know all the customers by name so we could smile and say ‘Oh, how lovely to see you, Mr Jones’, in order to make them feel special.

I also had to spend an evening trying all the exotic food they served, such as oysters, caviar and frog’s legs, so that if a customer asked how they tasted, I could tell them. I didn’t always like it but, of course, told them it was delicious.

Once I put my bunny outfit on, I felt like Marilyn Monroe. The costumes were exquisitely made — they were cut high to make our legs look long, nipped in to give us a hand-span waist and the bobtail was to emphasise our bottoms.

Even though I was only 19, I was married and my husband, a croupier, loved boasting that he was married to a Playboy bunny.

At work I had to remove my wedding ring as the management liked us to appear single and available, even if we weren’t. We were expected to stay in shape and if we gained a few pounds we were taken off duty until we shed them again, with a warning that any future weight gain would lead to an instant dismissal.

Secretly married: Linda's croupier husband liked to boast that he was married to a bunny girl

Every evening, before work, we underwent a ‘bunny inspection’. The ‘bunny mother’, a former bunny girl, would line us up military-style and then walk up and down, telling us that our tails were flat, our ears weren’t perky or that we had chipped nail polish and scuffed shoes.

We got huge tips. I once got £20 from a wealthy Arab for serving a coffee. When I looked surprised, he mistook it as ingratitude. He didn’t think he’d left enough so he peeled off another £20 (around £260 today) — an absolute fortune in those days.

On a good week I was taking home £300 (the equivalent of £4,000 today) compared to the £30 I was previously earning at the factory.

In my time I served Donald Sutherland, Roger Moore and Sammy Davis Junior, but I became quite blase about celebrities as there was somebody famous in most nights.

I would be on my feet from 9pm until 4am and by the end of my shift I could barely walk. During our breaks we’d run our feet over iced bottles of Coke just to try to soothe the pain.

Bunnies weren’t meant to date customers, but most of them did. As I was ‘secretly’ married, I’d just thank men if they asked me out and say I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.

One wealthy businessman offered me £2,000 to spend the night with him at his hotel. It was horrible when that happened, but you just had to smile and say ‘no thank you’. 

I lasted ten years and earned enough money to buy a lovely house.  I spent the next few years travelling the world, and studying for an Open University degree in psychology and economics.

I only returned to the UK last year and am planning to open up  a B&B.

 

Omar Sharif asked me out but I refused. I picked up a chap from the Avengers instead

Barbara Haigh, 61, is a restaurateur in London. She never married.  

'Everything we had was God-given': Barbara Haigh's curvy figure and long legs helped her get the job

Some of us old bunnies were contacted last year by the club’s new owners, who asked our opinions on whether we thought bunny girls could work in 2011. They were worried that in the age of lap-dancing it would all seem tame.

But, as I told them, that’s the appeal — a suggestion of something naughty but nothing more.

Back in 1971 I was working as a travel agent in Liverpool when I saw an advert in The Stage newspaper for bunny girls. I was a confident little thing and always being told what a great figure I had, so I thought: ‘Why not?’

Nobody had breast implants those days — everything we had was God-given and it’s thanks to my curvy figure and long legs I got the job.

My official salary was £35 a week (£370 in today’s money) but that was totally irrelevant. All the money came from tips — up to £100 (just over £1000) on a good night.

I was a very good bunny. I was an expert at the bunny stance: standing one foot behind the other, hips thrust forward. And I mastered the famous bunny dip which the customers loved so much.

The club was so plush and elegant — there were six floors in all, and the most prestigious area was The Hunt Room, which was painted royal blue. The disco had chocolate-brown felt walls and brass fittings, and the lounges had mahogany and oak panelling, with thick carpet and expensive paintings on the walls. I’ve seen the new club and it’s very different. 

Confident little thing: Barbara was an expert at 'the bunny stance' - one foot behind the other, hips forward

Cool, subtle and minimalist with muslin curtains hiding bunny silhouettes, which looks mysterious and draws the eye. 

The bunnies now are still as pretty and girl-next-door looking. I worried that they’d all have silicone breasts and orange tans. 

In my day we all wore hair pieces and giant false eyelashes, as that was the look at the time. I took an hour to get ready, but some of the girls would take three or more.

Strictly speaking, we weren’t meant to date customers but everyone did. The U.S. bunnies actually went on strike over this issue and won. 

Omar Sharif asked to take me out after work one evening, but I didn’t have a dress with me so I told reception to tell him I’d gone.

But I did date the very suave actor Gerald Harper, who appeared in The Avengers, for a while. He was much older than me. I eventually grew bored, but we went to some amazing restaurants and parties.

Dodi Fayed was in the club once when he was about 18. He invited me to a ‘party’ at his apartment but when I got there it was just another couple, him and me, so I left pretty sharpish. 

Dustin Hoffman was a regular and lovely to all the staff.

I once had to tell him off for putting his feet up on the furniture and he was very apologetic and promised not to do it again.

By the time I reached 28, I was a bit fed up of it all. The clientele had changed and was made up of vulgar euro-trash types. 

I began to feel a bit stupid wearing bunny ears and a fluffy tail and handed in my notice.

My bunny days were the best years of my life and I still wear the gold necklace I was awarded for my skills.

 

If anyone was rude, we tipped their cocktails into their laps

Susan Smith, 53, is a psychotherapist. She lives with her partner, a self-employed businessman, in Bromley, Kent.

People watcher: Sue Smith's time as a bunny girl inspired her to train for a career as a psychotherapist

For nine months in 1981, I was Bunny Shelley just before the club closed. Before that I was working as a secretary when my brother, a croupier, told me about a vacancy at the Playboy Club.

I remember while in the lift up to the interview a very handsome man tried to chat me up. I gave him a very snooty look, making it clear that I didn’t take kindly to being talked to in such a forward fashion.

I learned later he was the singer Sacha Distel, who half the country’s females were swooning over at the time.

My mum was absolutely thrilled I was going to be a bunny.

She saw it as being a part of show business — like a Bluebell girl. There was never any disapproval from my family.

I used to love driving into Mayfair for my shift at night when all the traffic was going in the opposite direction as everyone headed home.

Knowing I was going to the most exciting nightspot in the whole of London was exhilarating. 

I drank tea with actor Telly Savalas, met Freddie Starr several times and, of course, saw Omar Sharif, who was always there when he was in London. I was wary of some of the Arab princes because they seemed to think everything was for sale, including us. 

But I always enjoyed people-watching and knowing what made the customers tick, which is what led me to later train to become a psychotherapist.

I loved working in the Hunt Room best of all, where we wore beautiful maroon costumes with silver trim and served cocktails such as Side Cars or Old Fashioneds, and lobster thermidor rather than the standard burgers and chips in the Playmate grill. You could earn more than £100 (£300 now) in tips in one evening up there.

I remember I once slipped on the polished floor as I tried to perch while serving chicken and chips, and the food slid off the tray all over the table. I was very embarrassed, especially as I’d come wiggling so confidently over to the table. I didn’t get a very big tip that night.

'There was nothing tarty about the way we looked': Sue, left, with two workmates from the Playboy club

Sometimes we were so exhausted we’d snag our tights on purpose to have an excuse for a break.

Just off the floor area there was a broom cupboard behind two double saloon doors and we used to perch on a shelf in there eating plates of chips the chef would slip to us.

We had to make sure our bunny ears were flattened down so the bunny mother wouldn’t see them sticking over the top.

I come from a family of strong, powerful women and would never have done anything I felt was cheap or demeaning.

We were on display and  chosen for our bodies, but there was nothing tarty about how we looked. The costumes were flattering and could  make an ordinary figure look sensational.

If someone was rude to us they’d get drinks knocked over them all night long by 20 girls. Guests quickly learned that it was never worth making a bunny cross.