Bash Compactor: The Naked City

How many naked women does it take to make a New
York Times bestseller? Thirty-five, if enough people buy acclaimed
erotic photojournalist Andrew Einhorn’s new book, Naked Coast to
Coast. The book features over 800 naked pics of “the beautiful, exotic
and diverse women of New York and San Francisco,” chronicling Einhorn’s
first two seasons on the reality series Naked Happy Girls.

Before
I went into the book party last week, at artist Ryan McGinness’ Centre
Street studio, I stood outside and watched artist and body-painter
extraordinaire Andy Golub drive up in his psychedelic-pimped out
car. McGinnes’ lair, on the sixth floor, definitely puts the walk in
walkup, but if you want fine nakedness, I guess it doesn’t come easy.

At least that’s the impression I got from a low-budget film
producer who marveled at how Einhorn was getting women to drop their
drawers. He said that women who audition for his films often renege on
the nudity. “What’s his little trick?” he quipped, then later begged me
to retract his name and statements because he didn’t want to end up in
Google search.

I wasn’t concerned with starting a catfight
between artists; I had to get in line to see a book of naked women. To
my surprise, the book was engaging and, dare I say, artistic. It’s not
naked women but pictures of women doing what they usually do—studying,
playing with their dog, smoking weed—but they just happen to be without
clothes. You can’t really appreciate the book when a bunch of mofos are
breathing down your neck for their turn, but for $40 bucks you can take a
bunch of naked women home. Each spread opens with an interview: Talia
the Lawyer intrigued me when I read she’d be happy if her clients
or co-workers saw the pics.

Sunny, on the other hand,
wouldn’t be so happy but she’d deal with it. I sat down with her as she
watched video (for the first time) projected on the wall from her first
nude shoot. “Do you feel strange?” I asked. “No,” she beamed. “I’m fine
with it. Everyone has seen a naked woman.”

Yes, but I can only
stare at a strange naked woman for so long before it gets weird. I
skipped the rooftop photo shoot where everyone was supposed to strip
down, but not before pressing the flesh with Einhorn. The photographer,
who does have a noticeable charm, said the book is “sexy but
journalistic” and he likes the women to “have fun and be comfortable.”
Then he asked me if I was going to pose for him. I could write about it,
he suggested. I said I’d call him, but I lied.