Christy Canyon
Christy Canyon kicked the doors wide open in '84—big tits, brown eyes, brown hair, the works. No twenty-year-old wannabe stacks up. She split from her folks at 17, crashed in retail, then some guy flashed a magazine spread. The camera loved her; she didn’t quit even after flaming out at nineteen, burned out and tangled with a jealous boyfriend. She popped back in ’89, signed with Vivid, banged her way through contract scenes while cramming nights at fashion school. Degree in merchandise marketing landed in ’91. Left again mid-nineties, swung through one last lap, then hung it up for good in ’96. Pole circuit next—feature dancing, sweaty clubs, late nights—until 2001. Over 200 titles in the can, XRCO and AVN Hall of Famer, and she still smells like money. Wrote Lights, Camera, Sex! in 2003, sat on Jenna’s panel later, and now she cracks dirty jokes on Playboy Radio’s Night Calls. No more fucking on film, but fans still lose it when her name drops.
Christy Canyon
Christy Canyon kicked the doors wide open in '84—big tits, brown eyes, brown hair, the works. No twenty-year-old wannabe stacks up. She split from her folks at 17, crashed in retail, then some guy flashed a magazine spread. The camera loved her; she didn’t quit even after flaming out at nineteen, burned out and tangled with a jealous boyfriend. She popped back in ’89, signed with Vivid, banged her way through contract scenes while cramming nights at fashion school. Degree in merchandise marketing landed in ’91. Left again mid-nineties, swung through one last lap, then hung it up for good in ’96. Pole circuit next—feature dancing, sweaty clubs, late nights—until 2001. Over 200 titles in the can, XRCO and AVN Hall of Famer, and she still smells like money. Wrote Lights, Camera, Sex! in 2003, sat on Jenna’s panel later, and now she cracks dirty jokes on Playboy Radio’s Night Calls. No more fucking on film, but fans still lose it when her name drops.
