"My head's still spinning," says Julie Clarke, best known for turning men's heads on the beaches of her beloved Naples, Florida. Seven months ago, she was working the phones at a local health club. Now that job's on hold. Julie - "Jules" to her friends - is living a life "that's like a fantasy vacat
...ion." Her dizzying ascent from Florida fitness buff to Playmate began when the tanned, tawny daughter of a globe-trotting G man (Her dad, an FBI language specialist, sends her bikinis from Brazil) appeared at a swimwear pageant in Clearwater, looking untouchably fine. A local female-beauty inspector offered to send her picture to Playboy. "I said, 'Yes!' I'd always thought if I ever had a chance to be a Playmate, you wouldn't have to as kme twice. We would have asked her twice, of course, but it's lucky that we didn't have to - otherwise, you might not have met Julie yet. Relaxing beside the grotto at Playboy Mansion West, Julie works on her already perfect tan. "I'm having the time of my life," she says, plotting an assault on Los Angeles night spots with her new pal, Playmate of the Year 1990 Reneé Tenison. Famously fit - she has been known to exhaust her dance partners at Skipper's in Tampa, where the dance floor is sand - Miss March hones her figure by sweating every last fat cell into submission. Her daily "Jules and Gym" workout: half an hour climbing stairs, half an hour with free weights and "hundreds and hundreds of sit-ups." Not one to sit still, Julie is just now getting warmed up for her new full-time job, "having fun. Maybe I'll settle down when I'm thirty, but not now. Plans? Well, I think I might go skinny-dipping in the ocean - I've always wanted to do that."
