Liz McEwen

/

Parley – Vous Francais?

Oui !

Girl with the engaging smile and a natural flair for looking lovely in white lingerie is LIZ McEWEN.

Liz spent a holiday in France this year. She went with some girlfriends. Naturally, they all wanted to test their French. Liz saw the most ravishing gendarme, lean, long, shatteringly Gallic and absolutely dishy. “When the traffic stops,” she said, “I’ll pop over to him and ask him the way to the Eiffel Tower.” “But we're not going to the Eiffel Tower,” said Shirley,” we went there yesterday.” You can't do anything with a girl as unimaginative as Shirley, so Liz just gave her a look and popped over to ask her dishy gendarme the way to the Eiffel Tower. As soon as the gendarme saw her coming he blew his whistle and all the traffic went into reverse. He bowed when Liz arrived and Liz, in her best French, which is not at all bad, popped the question apropos the location of the Eiffel Tower.

She returned to her friends dreamy-eyed and in an ecstatic tizzy, as they say in all the modern novels. “Well?” said Shirley. “He said it was twenty minutes after eleven,” said Liz tenderly. “Some answer,” said a girl called Daffodil, “he couldn't have understood your French.”

“His name is Maurice,” said Liz,” and when he comes to England he's going to bring me one of those big bunches of onions.”

Joanna Carlton

/

Back To The Blackboard

It was just one of those days. JOANNA CARLTON went out shopping and came back with the wrong change. It could happen to anybody, and it certainly happened to Joanna, a Nottingham housewife.

“Yes, I know,” said Mr. Carlton, “but it happened last Christmas as well. Back to the blackboard for you, dear wife, and we'll start with practical mathematics and end with trigonometry, and though it'll hurt me more than it’ll hurt you we’ll both feel all the better for it.” “I don’t think it will make me feel better at all,” said Joanna. “Can't I just go out to knitting classes?"

“Back to the blackboard,” said hubby and back to the blackboard it was, and Joanna started with how many beans make five and what happens when you buy seven oranges and give a quarter of them to that nice bus conductor on the way home.

Then she went on to practical mathematics and wished fervently she'd stayed with the five beans and seven oranges, because she was never very good at any kind of mathematics and likes just being a happy housewife and a good cook and a great help to her husband when he's having trouble mending a fuse.

“What,” said hubby, “is the distance between A and C?”

“Five and a half oranges,” said Joanna.

Never mind, it was a gallant try and she felt all the better for it, even if he didn’t.

Lisa Scott

/

Vintage Year

Year of origin 1945.

That was the year when we all stopped throwing hot lead and sizzling iron at each other and the sexy but militant girls in the Army, Navy and Air Force went happily back to civvy street to forget their militancy and rehabilitate their wriggles.

It was also the year when lovely LISA SCOTT was born. It was a vintage year for babies both beautiful and cuddly. When Charley Grapevine was born the top fell off a mountain somewhere and in the Falkland Islands it rained for six months solid. Charley’s year was non-vintage.

Latterly a secretary, Lisa’s current ambition is to be a successful model, and she’s got a yen for eating candy or washing whiter than white in TV commercials. Well, if we have to have all those soap flakes, let’s have them wrapped around Lisa.

Washing-machines and soap powders are purely utilitarian.

But washing-machines and soap powders and Lisa are delightful. “Mum, come and turn the telly off—dad's temperature’s gone up again.”

Karin Reali

/

Excuse Me

Caught with a slipped clip as she prepares to alight from her car is KARIN REALI, West German film starlet, wondering, like so many other girls, why nobody makes a car from which a lady may alight without a leg show.

Jackie Taylor

/

Follow the Girls

One can’t help but follow them these days.

Down the Strand, up Regent Street, down the Mall and all the way along the Embankment.

They’re a joy to the eye and one’s feet hardly notice at all, though the big toes don’t half play up when one at last gets home.

Cast an eye upon JACKIE TAYLOR, for instance. One could follow her from Land’s End to Edinburgh Castle and never notice a single blister.

Here she is against London backgrounds, and the whistles could be heard from every window.

Helen Baxter

/

Anyone Looking

It’s a bit of a problem when you want to change your dress in the back of a car, for there’s always the possibility that some knickerbockered bird watcher may be looking or so thought HELEN BAXTER.

And when you have changed, isn’t it just absolutely ridiculous to find your dress caught up in the car door and that tweedy-headed B.W. twittering at you over the hedge

Anne Scott

/

Cooling Off

"I don’t usually appear out-of-doors like an absent-minded professor," said ANNE SCOTT.

"What brand of absent-mindedness did you have in mind?"

"Oh, you know." A bit of a giggle here. “The ones who leave for work minus their trousers. I didn’t leave home minus my dress, I assure you. It’s the weather."

"What weather?"

"All this gorgeous hot stuff. I didn’t think there was any left."

"Oh, come now, Miss Scott, weather has always been a matter of the four seasons."

"Do you have to talk like some diddly-fiddly old dodderer from the Ministry? I’m only trying very simply to explain why I look like this."

"No explanation necessary. Miss Scott. It’s all a very natural development process singularly special to lovely young ladies, and there’s no one it pleases more than an old dodderer from the Ministry."

“There’s no need to make all that much of it. It just happened to get a lot hotter than I expected, so I thought I’d do some cooling off."

"Pardon us while we go jump in the lake. It’s the only way to get our temperature down.”

Maggie McCully

/

A Work of Art

A work of art more often than not is something they put on a pedestal or hang on a wall and is frequently called a museum piece. There’s the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo and MAGGIE McCULLY, only don’t try hanging Maggie on a wall, even at a Bond Street gallery, or you’ll find yourself in a six-foot frame and with a bump on your head that’ll fit a half-pint skid-lid.

Of course, if you’re a lover of art and subject to fragilistic trembling’s in the presence of the Mona Lisa or the Venus de Milo, you won’t be without palpitations in the presence of Maggie, either. As the epitome of all that is inspiring about the modern girl,

Maggie is even better than a work of art.

She lives and breathes and loves a sleigh ride.

Nancy Sinatra

/

New Image for Nancy

Having created one image for herself as a top pop star,

NANCY SINATRA is now being groomed for a different role.

It was those boots which did it. Everyone heard her when she arrived and those who are in business to bring the world to those who want it decided Nancy had what it takes to become a film star.

So, in a new cloak-and-dagger story called “The Last of The Secret Agents,” Nancy will project her new image as a sex kitten. She’ll be seen, for instance, in this outfit made of sexy lace complete with garters and if that doesn’t launch Nancy into an exciting world of film fame it won’t be her fault.

It’ll be because people have gone off garters.

Patricia McGregor

/

Just Right For A Walk In The Park

The day was fine, PATRICIA McGREGOR was looking beautiful, and everything seemed set fair for a walk in the park.

But first, of course, Pat had to make sure that her seams were straight and her nails were polished.

Not to mention her shoes. A fashion model like Pat just couldn’t be seen in public without a shoeshine.

A final check on those seams—a last suspender adjustment, and we’re all set.

Apart from—no, not just the hat, Pat. What about the skirt? Well, you might get away with it if you keep your coat buttoned up, but suppose you get asked into tea somewhere?

“Hallo! Hallo-Sally? Sally, did I leave my skirt at your place yesterday? I did? Well, good heavens, what did I come home in, then? I did? Gosh, no wonder I thought it was draughty on my bike!”

Annette French

/

Beauty On The Bonnet

A well-polished car with all that gleaming chromium and the rest of the gear is just right as a subject for glossy photography, but if you need to gild the lily how about adding ANNETTE FRENCH to the picture?

You might be inclined to suggest the car is superfluous in that case, even if it’s a supercharged model, and in turn we’d be inclined to agree with you. For if you’re looking for the photogenic dream, what’s a chromium-plated bumper compared with a natural beauty like Annette?

Heather Piercy

/

Designing Dolly

In years to come posterity will have its say about the mini-skirt, but at the moment we’re only concerned with its maddening eye-appeal and how vital and alive the feminine leg seems in it.

Girl who wears her minis very short indeed is London dress designer HEATHER PIERCY, and she wears them this way to please her boyfriend. It goes without saying that all other boys have no objections, either, and Heather can now tell by the particular key in which a wolf whistle is pitched the exact extent of the whistler’s approval. Heather is magnificently and uninhibitedly typical of every mini-skirted dolly of London the difference being that she happens to be a designing one.

She can come and design for us—we have ideas for a country mansion, a villa in Portofino and a yacht in Cannes we’d like her to start on. That should keep her within eyesight for quite a while. We don’t know what we’d do with the designs, but we’d worry about that later.

Marie Fitzgerald

/

Delightful Dolly

Hampshire secretary MARIE FITZGERALD loves all the mini fashions and lace-up boots.

We love all the mini fashions too, and go overboard for secretaries in lace-up boots. With all the worries, we’ve got about the bomb, Vietnam and Rhodesia we need such diversification as the sight of mini dollies tripping lightly past our windows. We can’t spend all our time mentally agonising over the stupidity of so many.

Sylvia Martin

/

Flutterer

No, come on. Tearaway (said the panting jockey), get weaving or you’ll have me in dead trouble with Lady Sylvia. I tipped her you’d win by five lengths and here you are not even trying—swelp me if I don’t nobble you myself next time out. You couldn’t blame the gee-gee, really. The jockey just lost all sense of proportion when he gazed into the green eyes of SYLVIA MARTIN, 20-year-old bachelor-girl-about-town, who loves a flutter on the horses and believes anything a jockey tells her about the nags. Sylvia has lost the equivalent of a shirt more times than she cares to remember.

In case any of you think the height of bliss is only experienced by those riding a rocking-horse on the top of the Eiffel Tower, then there are those among you who haven’t seen Sylvia waving her horse home at Epsom. She dances, jigs, cavorts, yells, shrieks, and generally lets her enthusiasm take such hold of her that she becomes the most entrancing spectacle of the day.

Sorry we couldn’t show you her cheering her last flutter home, but we did catch her looking extremely entrancing in the domestic setting of a London flat.

Sylvia’s ambition, as distinct from her hobby, is the theatre—she wants desperately to break into the real, live genuine circuit—but she won’t put her shirt on it, she couldn’t bear to lose on that one.

Nicky Weston

/

Have Yen, Will Travel

Fashion and photographic model NICKY WESTON has one ambition above all others, and that’s to travel all over the world in her work. Nicky is just twenty and like so many fashion models can be seen adding glamour to the motor racing circuits. She also looks cool on a gee-gee, being uncommonly addicted to hacking.