Wolverhampton native British supermodel Joanne Latham (1960-) is a perennial favorite model. A fresh face is just what the 70s adult market needed, revamping the final days of 60s cheesecake, & paving the way for idealized model aesthetic. A woman pissed-off has a certain appeal to those looking for it, pair that with a bust like those ancient Chinese fertility stones & the result is a powerful statement of womanhood. Her attitude is apparent from the start, a blessing to hungry, drooling fans after only a few appearances as a covergirl & regular in men's magazines, novelties like playing cards, and in the cover art for adult VHS while not actually appearing in the movie. By 1983, editors featured full layouts of Joanne, making her a meaningful successor to the likes of June Wilkinson, but implying in some of the copy that she'd already reached her epic peak. The heyday is early 80s, but the impact lasts anything in her wake, appearances in magazines continuing well into the 1990s. Her posing and facial expressions always lend a sense of irony that says to the viewer "you have no idea, do you" and leaves our mouths dry. What side of the bed did she wake-up on? Some sessions feel like the camera is the enemy, some see the sweet girl next door, eager to show off her newly developed 40-25-35 figure after a long winter break. Joanne is the brightest aura & the darkest enigma of eroticism in print. She both hugs the limits of a person at the top of the game ("Game" was a magazine she posed for repeatedly) and shadows the entire lot with a creeping mystique. She later became a follower of Eastern philosophy, a poet of spiritual transformation, & perhaps due to consistent yoga, she lost much of the weight so prevalent in Penthouse, Response, Mayfair, Partner, etc., but we don't fault her. She has aged nicely. If she ever poses again, I hope to be the man with the camera, snapping in admiration. She will be in pure easiness & not be misused. Posing anyway she wishes, Down Dog or the panca of Namaskara A/B, no salacious presentation of her tan ass (an uncommon image), no colliding of 40+ tits, just the hazy English countryside and the visage of a woman so pissed she laughs & we finally get her to smile with unifying happiness that SHE created. Occasionally Joanne will post on social media some vintage pinups, classy, nothing nude or exploitative, of her from olden times. A framed pull-out poster of rifle-wielding Joanne before fireplace, & a Stef Meeder Hammond organ LP sleeve are at eye level every time I sit down to work. Inspiration desperately needed in a selfie-saturated world.