Chelsie Aryn
Playboy Morning Show - Episode 497
Playboy Morning Show - Episode 496
Playboy Morning Show - Episode 495
Playboy Morning Show - Episode 494
Playboy Morning Show - Episode 493
Playboy Morning Show - Episode 492
She hits like a storm. Chelsie Aryn was born in Berne, a small mountain town upstate, German blood mixed with Japanese, yet all of her. Dirt bike grease on her knuckles, mud on her calves, she’d rather throttle through a track than sip cocktails at a club. "I like to think I’m tough," she laughs. "They called me Mighty Mouse in high school—small girl, big attitude." Youngest of her siblings, raised country, she still jumps when she sees a frog and smiles at a snake. That same country edge earned her an online following hungry for the real thing. She’d already won Miss Social back in 2011, earned the Mansion trip, even had Jennifer Pershing—another Miss March—as her tour guide. "Her Centerfold was the first one I ever pinned above my bed," Chelsie says. Back then they offered her a test shoot. She turned it down. Nothing less than the real thing would do. Her bedroom at home is bubblegum pink, covered in Playboy memorabilia. She found her father’s magazines in the basement at fourteen and never looked back—subscriptions, posters, Bunny necklace now warm against her skin. The goal was always the same: Playmate, not almost. Now she’s March 2015, trading New York pines for California palms, but the promise she made her dad stays. If she made it, she’d bring him to the Mansion. She kept her word.
She hits like a storm. Chelsie Aryn was born in Berne, a small mountain town upstate, German blood mixed with Japanese, yet all of her. Dirt bike grease on her knuckles, mud on her calves, she’d rather throttle through a track than sip cocktails at a club. "I like to think I’m tough," she laughs. "They called me Mighty Mouse in high school—small girl, big attitude." Youngest of her siblings, raised country, she still jumps when she sees a frog and smiles at a snake. That same country edge earned her an online following hungry for the real thing. She’d already won Miss Social back in 2011, earned the Mansion trip, even had Jennifer Pershing—another Miss March—as her tour guide. "Her Centerfold was the first one I ever pinned above my bed," Chelsie says. Back then they offered her a test shoot. She turned it down. Nothing less than the real thing would do. Her bedroom at home is bubblegum pink, covered in Playboy memorabilia. She found her father’s magazines in the basement at fourteen and never looked back—subscriptions, posters, Bunny necklace now warm against her skin. The goal was always the same: Playmate, not almost. Now she’s March 2015, trading New York pines for California palms, but the promise she made her dad stays. If she made it, she’d bring him to the Mansion. She kept her word.