July 21, 1956 / Cancer / Age 69
Lynda Clark is an American-born Penthouse model, glamour model, movie and theatre actress, born on July 21, 1956 in Palm Beach, Florida, United States.
Lynda Clark was crowned Penthouse Pet of the Month in June 1979, stepping into the spotlight at 22 years old. With her statuesque 37-23-36 figure, seductive blue eyes, honey blond hair, and natural breasts, Lynda exudes a confident sensuality that feels effortless, natural, and undeniably captivating.
Lynda Clark entered Penthouse with the kind of glamour that feels polished, cinematic, and entirely sure of itself. There was nothing hesitant in her effect. She had the sort of presence that seems made for a lens — poised enough to hold the frame, but alive enough to keep it from ever feeling static. In June 1979, she arrived as the kind of woman Penthouse knew how to present at its best: confident, elegant, and carrying just enough mystery to make the page feel charged.
What made Lynda especially compelling was the balance between sophistication and accessibility. She did not come across as a distant fantasy sealed behind perfection. Instead, there was a natural ease in the way she projected herself, as though beauty was only one part of a larger screen-ready charisma. That quality gave her images a certain durability. She looked like someone who belonged not only in a pictorial, but in stories — a woman whose appeal could move easily from still photography into film and television without losing any of its force.
That impression proved well founded. Photographed by Stan Malinowski, Lynda Clark's June 1979 Penthouse appearance placed her in the hands of a photographer known for sleek, striking glamour, and the pairing suited her beautifully. Beyond Penthouse, she went on to build screen credits in both movies and television, appearing in projects including I Know What You Did Last Summer, My New Best Friend, and Crazy People. Those roles only deepen the sense that her Penthouse debut captured a woman whose appeal was never limited to a single medium. She had the kind of look and bearing that naturally invited a wider career.
What lingers about Lynda Clark is precisely that sense of range. She was more than a beautiful woman photographed well in a memorable era. She carried the kind of visual confidence that translates, the kind of allure that can hold stillness and motion equally well. In Penthouse, she became more than a June presence. She became a portrait of late-seventies glamour with a distinctly cinematic future already waiting inside it.