Le magazine australien LeBoogie (dirigé par l’excellent photographe Phil Gallagher) sortira son N°6 ces jours -ci ! Une cover assez folle avec 2 nanas nues qui regarde un bodyboarder s’envoyer en invert, nu lui aussi !

Extrait vidéo de Thomas Robinson découvrant le magazine:

La cover:

LeBoogie 6 Cover

Extrait de l’Edito de ce N°6:

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

It was a full moon, I remember, the night all this lunacy began, which explains a lot. There was no sign of the cops when we left the studio which was relieving but we still walked quickly to the car parked nearby, cloaked in darkness.

It was the Shakespeare Hotel in Surry Hills, I remember, where we decided to dine. There was a lot to talk about, the editor had said. The family was multiplying. Sales, unprecedented. Supremacy was imminent and we were to strike while the iron was hot.

Through a window I watched a phoenix fly silently across the sky.

“What of a nude cover?” dared the editor through a mouthful of veal. There was still flecks of blood in his hair.
Dramatic lighting from outside.
“Now THAT… is ambitious,” I chortled, eyeing my marinated ribs.
“It must happen!” exclaimed the designer, spilling his whiskey, thrilled.

And it did happen! It does!

The sun is shining brightly in Norah Head, the right kind of weather. My skin sizzles. The air is thick with heat on this beach and the swell dances in perfectly while a zephyr blows. There are plates of fruit. There are stacks of boards and cases of expensive camera equipment. The photographers are crouched over there, drawing diagrams in the sand, calculating distances. I am humming the tune of ‘Hakuna Matata’. There was a dolphin sighting earlier.

Meanwhile the models are casually getting acquainted, laughing and looking beautiful and tan. One is glazed a gentle cinnamon and I ask myself, would she taste the same? But before I can answer RIDER XXX is coming over, all boyish smiles and a flamboyant Quigley custom beneath his wing and a twinkle in his eye. The chosen one.

The models are untying their sarongs now – they are naked, carelessly applying sun cream to their bodies, slim legs angling inward at the very top, their breasts saying ‘hello!’ again and again and I am not imagining this. RIDER XXX and other crew members have since disappeared.

And then someone yells ‘action’, a cue for the models to flick their hair and look hot as hell and for everyone else to stop and gaze in appreciation. “What am I going to tell my girlfriend?” worries Dallas Singer, an involuntary towel assistant. A lone fisherman is distracted as he walks by, thinking secret things. And the timing… the timing and the vision of jet-ski chauffeur Chris Wilson is absolutely flawless. Over a period of an hour RIDER XXX shamelessly completes a series of eye-catching maneuvers: an air reverse, an invert to air reverse, a 720 aerial attempt (nup, but so close!), another air reverse, a cover shot.

Someone remarks about the magic of the moment, but I’m paying minimal attention, desensitized, listening to the voice as closely as I would listen to a brick, a plant, a statue. A wave of adrenalin is washing over me, and then… anxiety. Where do we go from here? How would we ever eclipse such brilliance? How could we possibly expect you to settle for anything less than this?

The answers lie a meal away.
Issue 6 le BOOGIE magazine