To paraphrase Elaine from “Seinfeld”: Men are not sexy. Mens’ bodies are utilitarian, like Jeeps. They just supposed to get you where you’re going.

Twenty-five years ago, a publisher named Ira L. Geller didn’t think so. And amidst the panache of the 70s and the sexual revolution, he launched a woman’s magazine whose centerpiece was...well, centerfolds.

Oh, has it been a loooonnnggg 25 years.

Eroico put together an informal women’s group to determine if the magazine had any more relevance for today’s woman.

“If you like looking at boys who are your son’s age,” snipped Mary Perez, a housewife from Newark. “I’ve seen a couple in my lifetime and I felt like a pervert because the centerfolds were 20 and 24, or something like that. I felt so bad, I went to my priest. He told me to just give it up, although he insisted I turn over the magazines.”

“Back in the day, say the late 70s, Playgirl had relevance,” stated Ines Shapiro, a therapist in Boise, Idaho. “There were interviews that had a point, and a vague political feeling, maybe because there was so much debate about the ERA, or women in the workplace, whatever. When I look at today’s copy, I get the feeling I’m reading something written by women who graduated from Vassar.”

Other women in the group also noted the magazine’s superficiality. “My husband used to have a subscription to Playboy,” explained Doris Robertson of Sante Fe, New Mexico. “The articles in there dealt with everything going on in society, from politics to entertainment, you name it. Playgirl has no edge, it isn’t informative, and the writing is insipid. Plus there’s way too many porno ads in the back."

That distinction is something Playgirl enjoys with Penthouse. Unlike Playboy, which limits its advertisements to products (videos, collector’s issues) primarily coming from Playboy itself, Playgirl opts to sell a great deal of its ad space to anyone willing to pay. Advertising space is obviously one way for magazines to pay the rent, but Playgirl seems to take it wherever it can get it.

But the question remains, is this what women want? “I think the argument that what’s good for men is good for women has gotten a little passe,” remarked Gillian Berget of Mesa, Arizona. “I believe that in the first few years of the magazine, women could say, ‘You see, we like nudity too.’ But women don’t have to make the point over and over again. It’s kind of like, ‘Okay, been there, done that. What’s next to conquer?’”

One woman returned to the criticism of the writing of the magazine. “The men, who are always ‘personal trainers,’ just appear cartoonish and awkward when reading their bios. It’s like reading a woman’s impression of what a guy thinks a woman wants to hear. It’s maddening.” Another participant weighed in: “What’s even more crazy is how they’re all billed to be ordinary guys looking for that someone special, but if you look at the ads in the back, they’re starring in some porno movie.”

One self-described political lesbian decried the entire concept. “What is entertaining about pictures of body parts? The sexuality portrayed in magazines like Playboy or Playgirl are cartoonish, out of touch, totally unrealized. And having it all surrounded by political commentary or so-called erotic fiction doesn’t make it entertainment for anybody. It’s just magazine units waiting to be sold.”

So the informal results are not good for Playgirl. While most participants had no problems with the concept of the magazine, most felt that they had moved “beyond that” (presumably the ability to view nudity that obstensibly catered to their fantasies) and were more interested in other topics. Interestingly, most women in the group evinced a quick identification with the sexuality portayed in the magazine as silly or unbelievable, something definitely to be glossed over, whereas in our next column examining Penthouse, men liked to believe that it was every woman’s fantasy to be photographed in soft light.

Playgirl declined to comment.