Australian Penthouse

Heather Locklear at the 1993 Emmys. Photo by Alan Light. See bottom of story for details.

For two decades, Heather Locklear made young men believe that the nastier a sexy chick was, the firmer she made you. Feisty? Pound-for-pound, tiny Heather could slap down Mike Tyson if her insults didn’t make him weep first.

I first saw Heather in T.J. Hooker, where she played Officer Stacy Sheridan. Slim, with sparkling, powder-blue eyes and a cheeky smile, the bombshell blonde often played on her innocent looks and rocking body to work undercover as a masseuse or a woman looking to work in porn. In one episode, she was an exotic dancer, a role she excelled at. In fact, Heather is such a raunchy groover that for years tapes of this performance and a dance scene in Dynasty (where her gash-flashing gyrations brought shame on the Carrington household for 1000 years) were shown in sperm-donation centres to increase the volume of deposits.

Sex and sass came together for me when Heather joined Dynasty as the commoner tramp, Sammy Jo. She introduced me to the hotness of one woman chewing another out, even out-bitching Joan Collins. Heather was so damn quick and vicious with her mouth that I couldn’t help wondering what else she could do with it. But the slap-fests and mud wrestling with rivals on Dynasty was just a warm-up for Melrose Place, where she punched out men and women alike.

Melrose was a failing, limp-wristed 90210 spin-off until Heather weighed in as scheming Amanda Woodward, the power-hungry boss and landlady from hell who only accepted tenants she could either root, blackmail and/or humiliate. Everyone in Melrose Place hated Amanda’s guts, yet 10 were sucked into the fiery Bermuda Triangle between her legs. Five even married her. She didn’t just snag men, she owned them.

By most reports, the real Heather is a wholesome sweetie, but her characters must live in her a little. During her first marriage (to bad-boy rocker, Tommy Lee), she said, “He doesn’t worship the devil, he worships me!” And she didn’t ease up on second hubby, Bon Jovi’s Richie Sambora, either. “Lust is the sin that gets me excited,” she confessed.

“Luckily, because I’m married, I also get good jewellery out of it.” I guess she did fine in both divorces.

More recently, Heather shows up like a booty call, thrusting her hotness upon us when we’ve almost put her out of our dirty minds. Usually it’s in TV shows, such as Scrubs and Two and a Half Men, where she plays a controlling bitch who uses men the same way Genghis Khan used prize horses—riding them hard and fast to complete a merciless conquest.
Heather represents the temptation that can lead a man into hell.

I’ve never had a sexy boss scream at me, then do me on her desk. No picture-perfect babe choked a girl in a mud pit over me. No seductive lawyer arranged to call me and say “Now!” when she wanted sex. But Heather kept those dreams alive.

Image courtesy of Flick user Alan Light, used by his permission. Original here

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