They were the kind of girls Mama was supposed to warn you about.
You know the kind. Bad Girls. Voracious dames who would pawn their virtue for a pack of smokes and a half-pint of bourbon.
Insatiable sirens with more curves than a scenic railway.
I can say only one thing: I am grateful I never listened to Mama.
The one thing Hollywood once got right was movies starring women being something other than Doris Day.
You know, Doris Day thinking about husbanding Rock Hudson for 2.4 kids, a house with a porch, and Baked Alaska on every third Saturday in the month.
And the irony of it being Rock Hudson.
These are posters of films featuring women who were themselves. Happy gunslingers. Dedicated nymphos. Bruise-lipped sirens who have nothing to sing about and nothing to lose.
And those sad-eyed victims of gross misogyny.
Maybe hard to admit, but there was a truth in these B-movies which today’s ultra-inclusive films fail to represent.
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