miss august has her sights set on succeeding in style
Her eyes are like planets. They seem larger than life, cinematic, wide-screen. People see Suzi Schott and assume that they've seen those eyes before. "I've been mistaken for Marie Osmond, for the girl in Flashdance, Jane Fonda and Mackenzie Phillips. I don't mind people's making a comparison, as long as they don't dwell on it. Really, now. Mackenzie Phillips?" The waitress comes up to our table and asks, "Aren't you Brian De Palma's wife?" "See what I mean?" We tell her that will change when she becomes a Playmate and the August issue is on the stands. She will be Miss August 1984 forever. In fact, someone passing through the Playboy offices recognized Suzi when he got a look at her layout: "She's the girl who lives in the high-rise across from me. I see her swimming all the time." Already, she is famous. "I think I know who you're talking about," Suzi told us. "There's a guy who walks around his apartment with binoculars, in his underwear, singing to himself and playing air guitar. At least I think that's what he's doing." Suzi has other strong notions about who she is and how she wants to be approached. When she first came to Chicago, she worked in a singles bar on Division Street. "The guys who came there were like Genghis Khan on a business trip. It was 'Hey, babe, get me a J. & B. and water.' They were Johnny Dancealottas with million-dollar tastes and five-dollar wallets. The kind of people who hang out there think Flashdance should have won the Academy Award. It's all 'I'll take you here, I'll show you there.' Those same people, when they hear I'm a Playmate, get nervous and respectful, as though I were a different person. What if carpenters were as famous as Playmates? Look, I called up my mom and told her that I was Miss August. She said, 'That's fine. Do you want to know what I bought at Venture today?' " That perspective helps Suzi keep her feet on the ground.
She grew up in Addison, Illinois, a very small town just outside Chicago. After a two-year stint as an executive secretary, she came to town to try out modeling. She is an energetic explorer of the city: "I wanted to develop a personal style, to get into places where no one else goes -- new restaurants, new clubs, new stores." Her education is a two-way process. She believes that restaurants should be aware of individual eccentricities. "I will go into a restaurant and order a root beer or a Dr. Brown's black-cherry soda. Maybe next time they will stock it." She showed the same initiative with her modeling career. When approached by Playboy Associate Staff Photographer David Mecey, she said, "Why not?" A test led to this pictorial and to lots of assignments around town from Playboy Models. She landed a job with a women's store in order to sharpen her skills in her first love -- fashion design. She has developed her own style in dress -- she looks as good on the street as she does without clothes: a knockout. As the dinner progresses, some of her humor becomes evident. "If I had to choose between chuckles and orgasms, I would choose chuckles. You can remember something funny and laugh again. How often do you remember something sexy and have an orgasm?" She has no dreams of Hollywood. "I wish my parents had forced me to take music lessons, dance, tap, computer, anything. But as it is, I'll make the best of what I am." And what she is is eclectic. When you ask her for a list of favorite movies, it includes Papillon, All That Jazz, any Albert Brooks movie and Dastardly and Mutley in Their Flying Machines, a TV cartoon about a dog who squeaks as he laughs. So take a good look. This is Suzi Schott, one of a kind.
Photography by David Mecey, Pompeo Posar