Here's a statistic to mull over: Playboy, available here only since 1996, now sells 15,000 copies a month in Ireland, exactly the same number as sold in Britain monthly, although its population is hitting 60 million. What does that say about us?

Whatever we think it says about us, to the canny commercial Americans it says a lot about the sense of expanding their market here. Jeff Cohen is the executive editor and publisher of the bimonthly Playboy's Book of Lingerie, which has just been launched in this State. "After five years of successfully selling Playboy here, we thought it was time to introduce another product," he intones with laconic gravitas.

This week a team from the Chicago-sed Playboy's Book of Lingerie rolled into town. Aside from launching the magazine here, they used the opportunity to have a two-day casting for potential models for future issues of the magazine. Ads were placed in two Sunday papers.

On the first day of casting some 50 women showed up in Dublin's Fitzwilliam Hotel. The second day, there were 155. Those who turned up were asked to bring with them either lingerie or a bikini, with the option of posing topless in either. ID was requested, and it was strictly 18s and over only.

"To our knowledge, there has never been an Irish-born woman in a Playboy magazine," says Cohen. "So we thought we'd use this opportunity of being in Ireland to try out some Irish women. We haven't decided yet how we'd do it, if we'd do an Irish issue, or have a separate section. That's down the line."

Despite what the title might suggest, the Playboy's Book of Lingerie has as many shots of women sans lingerie as it does avec same. When underwear is in the picture, it's rarely on right, as the expression goes, as oft-quoted by mammies in "You haven't got that skirt/dress/shirt on right at all". The pictures are provocative and fall with a resounding thud into the category of soft porn.

Rabbit's ears may well be those things you stick atop elderly but willing televisions in the hope that they will then perform for your pleasure, but in the world of Playboy they are the appendages of the famous Playbunny, and many aspire to perform for his pleasure. Images of the ears logo marked the way to the small conference room this week where the castings were going on, and to where women were beating a steady path.

So who were these women who showed up in their scores, and why did they want to be there? Dubliner Barbara Linnie, who works as a secretary, is 28. "I've always wanted to work in the glamour industry," she says straight out. She has come with a work colleague, Sharon Hughes (22).

"I've always wanted to have pictures taken of myself in underwear," Hughes says. "My boyfriend saw the piece in the paper and told me to go in for it. All we've done at work since Monday is giggle. I think coming here is good for self-esteem. You read all that stuff about the Celtic Tiger and what have you, but surely the Irish have a lot more to offer to the world than just that?"

Meanwhile, Linnie has returned from her photo session. She looks really happy. "I took my top off, of course I did!" she tells us. "I'm not here to waste my time, that's what I told the photographer!"

When the women come in first, they are given a form to fill out, which also doubles as a kind of gentle ice-breaking activity. Some of them do look a bit apprehensive, but most of them fairly strut in, exuding confidence. They are all, without exception, done up to the nines.

Looking at them, you realise that preparing to come here was not simply a matter of running out of the office at lunchtime for half an hour: serious time, energy, and money have been spent in waxing legs, going on sunbeds, buying new outer clothes, and lingerie/bikinis, in plucking, tweaking, pummelling and making up. This must be why several women, who are anxious not to be identified, admit they have called in sick to work for the day.

There is another identifying feature to these women. To sit in that casting room for a couple of hours, you would never guess that the hair-colour indigenous to the Irish is red. Peroxide blonde would appear to be the colouring of the Irish female tresses these days: Dolly the sheep and her genetic engineering really have a lot to answer for.

ONCE the form has been filled out, the women go into another room to undress, from which they emerge in a hotel bathrobe and wait their turn to go behind the screen. The photographer, Byron Newman, takes a few Polaroids of each girl, which are filed in an envelope with their completed form and number.

A 19-year-old woman who doesn't want her very distinctive identifying first name to go on the record is completely certain about why she is here. "I'm off to backpack around South America soon, and I wanted to come here because I want to do everything in life once. I don't want to be in the magazine, this is for myself. When I'm old and a granny, I want to have stories to tell."

Susan is 29, and while thrilled that Playboy has come to town, is also wistful. "If they'd come 10 years ago, I'd have been 19," she says. She is a singer, who is doing the corporate circle at the moment. "I wanted to come here because it would be a very good opportunity for my career. I think Playboy has a very sophisticated way of looking at models." There are several back issues of the Lingerie magazine on the table before us, their covers depicting pouty women bursting out of bras and G-strings.

Deirdre (23) has brought her Aunt Elizabeth with her. Elizabeth helps Deirdre to fill out the form. "I wanted to see if I could make it big," Deirdre confides shyly. "I didn't know what to expect, really." If Playboy calls her up when they go back to the States, she says she would give up her cashier job to work for them instead.

It is somewhat ironic that the Polaroids and the forms are being stashed in brown envelopes. All the pictures taken at these castings are now the exclusive property of Playboy and they will be able to post whichever ones they like on their website, with no fee going to the model. Even if selected, models will get paid only about $500 per shoot, which seems, frankly, miserable, given the high price of the magazine, retailing at £6.86 here.

I've always wanted to work in the glamour industry. Looking around the room, there's much more evidence of industry than glamour. It's hot, windowless and airless, with no air-conditioning. A few Play- boy posters have been taped to the walls, giving the effect of the random nature of pub advertising.

The photo sessions take place in this same room, behind a makeshift screen of those cloth-covered conference presentation boards. Although the American team are utterly courteous to everyone, you could see your face in the reflection their professional shine gives off.

At the door on the way out a big fuss is made of giving each woman a little gift. It's a sticker of a Kelly-green playbunny, with a white shamrock for its little Celtic twinkle of an eye.