If you want to keep in touch with the fascinating world of the future, take a look at future-minded DEIRDRE VASCOE.
Deirdre reckons she's just masterminded the simplistic everyday outfit of the future. There'll be no such things as cold temperatures and wet rain to worry about, and girls will just wear boots, futuristic tights and what you might call half a pair of knickers.
Anyone for Mars?
Having fought her way home from the office, AMANDA CASE thought she'd take a bath instead of a shower, then sit down refreshed to chicken and asparagus pie.
She ran the bath and was quite unready for what happened next.
She fell in.
She wasn't at all undressed for it.
Just a few buttons undone. Then what?
“I was wet all over," said Amanda, and so was everything else.”
What was needed by her parents' fireplace, thought LOUISE CRAWFORD, was a nice rocking-chair. Grandpa had had one and gave Louise rides on his knees when she was a little girl.
Louise still has a yen for a rocker, and for want off one by the fireplace she has to sit on that fur rug. All we can say is that if any decoration goes really excitingly with a fireside fur rug, it's Louise.
She looks good whatever she's doing. She plays a smashing game of tennis and a shapely game of basketball. She's not the best of footballers, however, but she looks gorgeous in her short soccer shorts.
Oh, come up to our sports shop sometime, Louise.
"Not unless I'm wearing my shin-pads," said Louise, "I know you”.
Now that MELANIE DARKAN has entered that stage of her life where she has to make a career for herself, before she marries a tall lovely man with a fascinating job of his own, she has decided to go her own way rather than be guided into an office vacancy.
Melanie has made up her mind to become a model.
She has the figure. She's 36-23-36. She has the smile and she has the dedication. Modelling school means all kinds of disciplined training, but what's that if it's the way you want it?
Melanie lives in Sheffield, where they make the best knives and forks in the world. It's just cutlery to Melanie.
Yes, it's very lovely for the art students around Bristol. Their new teacher is SUSAN ANSTEY, who is considered an incomparable work of art herself.
Long-legged, vivacious and with flowing chestnut hair, Susan took the opportunity during vacation time to show that modern lady teachers aren't just intellectual faces. She did some delicious pin-up modelling and was quite overcome at the pocket money she earned.
"My word," she said, "teachers don't get paid half as much."
"Well, give it up, wonder woman," said the photographer, "and be a glamour girl."
"I'd like to," said Susan, "but I'm dedicated and my pupils would miss me awfully."
"If I were in your class," he said, "so would I."
Bristol fashion means tip-top and shipshape, which is easily interpreted by a sailor but might need clarifying for the benefit of landlubbers.
For the benefit of landlubbers, then, it means spanking.
First-class Shining bright. The tops.
Bristol girl CHRISTINE DOVEY is all of that.
She's a shorthand- typist, has fashion-conscious statistics of 36-23-35. with ambitions to work on the catwalk.
She loves pop and discotheques and fast cars.
There are lots of tip-top, shipshape girls like Christine in Bristol, which is why the fellers there always look so pleased with things.
Some Irish housewives have got a lovely way of frying bacon; others have the most bewitching way of looking all cuddly.
We know a very bewitching Irish housewife. She's JANE DIXON.
Her way of bewitching a feller is to flash her Irish eyes at him. Irish eyes are soft, limpid, saucy and provoking. You can write poetry about them and get ten marks out ten from teacher for same.
You can certainly write poetry about Jane, and don't be put off by her trendy see-through. Keep looking into her eyes until you go all glazed and then you'll be in the mood to write the dreamiest poetry ever.
It doesn't have to rhyme; it just has to have a lilting flow.
It's all right for some. Some have au pair girls to use a broom for them.
But SALLY DIXON, university student, has to do ail her own chores in her London fiat and one place she likes to keep spotless is her kitchen, she being a girl who spends a lot of time in it. She's a marvel at making up exotic dishes out of homely ingredients bought at the nearby Street market.
She's also a marvel at modelling in her spare leisure hours, so that she can occasionally buy her-self a luscious steak and cook it Chinese style. You eat it with Chinese crackers.
For all the X-minus fellers who don't have a housewife of their own, our sympathy is unqualified.
They're missing all that is loveliest in life.
We know the most attractive Leicester housewife. She's not only glamorous, she can't half cook too. Her name is MARIA LYNLEY and the man in her life is so appreciative of his good luck he sends her picture postcards when they're on holiday together.
Some men prefer to have model train sets. Mr. Lynley prefers to have Maria. What an acquisition.
When she's out in the sun CRYSTAL FARMER is a real shiner. Next to a romantic midnight-blue sky complete with silver moon, the sun is Crystal's favourite element.
Off to Europe soon, for a summer holiday wander. Crystal is taking a girlfriend in order to outnumber any Latin Romeo who tries to surround her.
Not that she objects to a holiday romance. Just that she likes to get to know a nice feller first and can't stand those who, fat and forty, think they're irresistible to Anglo-Saxon femmes.
And being surrounded by someone fat and forty isn't Crystal's idea of a light-hearted romance.
It was a long way from Manchester to London when salesgirl JACKIE ROSS set out for the big city. Well, it's a long way from anywhere when you have to walk. Passing the railway station Jackie thought she'd do it the easy way, so she bought a ticket and caught a train.
She met an awfully nice feller on the train. He shared a packet of biscuits with her. But when he said that his wife didn't understand him Jackie knew there was only one thing to tell him.
"I'm not surprised," she said, "you're all over biscuits crumbs."
Jackie came to London to find work as a model. She hardly needed to look because enterprising photographers found her first. Naturally, who could miss such a beautiful brunette with a figure of 38-24-37
There's a modern Helen waiting for the Trojans to carry her off.
She's HELEN JONES.
She made a revelationary impact at the last motor show. Helen of Troy herself couldn't have been more revelationary.
A London model with her eyes on a film career, Helen was delighted when they gave her a part in the film 'Love Variations'. She made an impact in that too. She lives in North London, she's twenty-one and unlike other swinging birds who like fast sports cars, Helen likes walking.
Walking is safer. Accompanying boyfriends can't run out of petrol on a ramble.
"But you can run out of steam," said one feller, "crikey, she can walk your legs right off."
A very curvaceous secretary is KITTY ARMSTRONG of Oxford, and if you think she gets whistled at by the students on her way to work each day, then you think dead right.
Knowing her name, some of them call, "Kitty, Kitty," and make purring noises. Kitty doesn't mind that. As long as they don't spring, she says, they can purr all they like. She's delightfully vivacious and oh what a shape. It adds up to 38-24-37, and every inch goes so well with her height of five feet seven.
No wonder the students purr.
And having seen Kitty for ourselves we had to tell her we thought one of them is bound to spring eventually. Then what?
"Oh, I scratch him to pieces and bite his head off," said Kitty, "because when I get sprang at I'm a proper little tigress."
Still studying hard at college is Yorkshire girl JULIA WENDON, and she's after a degree in medicine.
In between putting her nose to the academic grindstone of medicine, Julia engages in all the pursuits that keep a girl fit, like tennis, netball and squash — Squash?
Not your kind of squash, Harold. And then she also goes in for pursuits that keep a girl happy, like beauty competitions and dancing and glamour modelling.
Tell her that keeps me happy too.
Push off to Hastings, Harold, and get yourself one in the eye.
On another day JILL MILLWARD was a showgirl. The footlights shone in her eyes every night and struck glitter into her beads and bangles. Clink went the bangles and pop went the beads. “Oh blow,” Jill would murmur, “there goes another one, they don’t sew them on like they used to.”
Then overnight Jill gave it all up. She put away her beads and bangles, her ostrich feathers and her ambition to play the lead in a fabulous musical. She became a children’s nurse.
But she still looks lovely and glam when she’s off duty.
