The lovely and talented Betty Blue, Playboy’s Miss November 1956, has legs that don’t take coffee breaks but lungs that do stop for a smoke or two.
This is the only other photo from the shoot. It’s clear from the paint-splattered sleeve that the hand offering the match in both photographs is the artist’s; also, in this shot, you can see more of the charcoal sketch of her on the easel behind her. As Mark Tomlinson has pointed out, the explicit male presence in this photo set makes them slightly uninviting, and it’s one of the last where a man makes an appearance in the picture, rather than being implicit in the photograph’s composition.
I remember when I modeled for an art class, there was always a point where the professor called for the students to turn their easels to the centers, and I, or we, if I was working with another model, got to wrap our sheets around us and shuffle around seeing the drawings. There was this one deaf guy who consistently drew me like a mix between Xena and a ballerina. He was really generous about increasing breast size and upping my level of arm tone. Long story short, that’s how I know the sign for “thank you!”
Interestingly, Betty is one of the few Playmates who is a permanent resident of the Playboy family. In accordance with her wishes and at the concession of Hef, who always invited her and her husband, AVN-award-winning producer Harold Lime, to events and parties, her ashes were scattered at the grounds of the Playboy mansion in a private ceremony following her death from heart failure in 2000.