Looking at this cover of National Spotlite published today in 1971 teaches us one thing—black ink is cheap. The magazine has Austrian actress Marisa Mell on the cover in a nice shot we've never seen before. Also on the cover, editors promise you can learn to be a modern Don Juan, and inside they share “sure fire seduction methods.” We know you're dying to learn these, so for all you single boys out there we'll skip right to the actionable intel.

The thing to watch are a woman's thighs, the way she sits and moves. If she's squirming around in her seat a lot and crossing and uncrossing her thighs it probably indicates a lot of beneath-the-surface sexual tension. On the other hand, if she's sitting there calmly smiling at you it could mean she's a tease, trying to get you to come on to her so she can put you down.

And:

There aren't many women who want to be picked up in an elevator at 8 o'clock in the morning. On the other hand, there aren't many women sitting alone in bars who don't want to be picked up. Walk up, buy her a drink, sit down and enjoy the entertainment. When she's finished her drink, take her by the arm and guide her outside. After that you've got it made.

Wow, to us this seems like terrible advice, particularly the part about grabbing a woman by the arm and leading her outside. That sounds like a quick shortcut to a swift knee in the nuts. But the advice doesn't end there. After all, the real point of every cheapie tabloid article about dating is to veer into graphic sleaze fiction. That's no less the case here:

To help with the satisfaction part guys of the ’70s should use tools of the ’70s. I never let a woman go the first night without a little treatment from the vibrator. I mean, there's a limit to what you can do with penis, fingers, tongue, and so forth. (edit. “and so forth?”) Take a vibrator and start working it around her breasts. Watch her nipples rise and swell. When [you use it] on her clitoris and vaginal lips, let the tips of your fingers dip into her nest.

We'll stop there, before the climax, so to speak. We aren't sure if National Spotlite is trying to create Don Juans or increase the number of restraining orders. We also find their prototypical stud—this guy below wearing a bowler hat and a carnation in his lapel—of questionable use as a role model. As far as we're concerned Spotlite reinforces the same old lesson—never take sex advice from a tabloid.