Susanne Churchill

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Is That The Operator?

When you’ve got through to the operator after spending a mad thirty minutes trying to get a straightforward number, have you ever wondered what she’s like? You hear her voice, golden and velvet and full of soothing solicitude, and you think my word, how can I blow my top when melody is ringing my eardrums?

“Is that the operator?”

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“I was on fire. I’m better now. When’s your night off?”

An absolutely delicious telephone operator is SUSANNE CHURCHILL of Brighton, Sussex. It’s not only a pleasure to listen to her telling you to hold the line, it’s an education.

Susanne likes fast cars and dress-designing. She designs and makes most of her own clothes, in fact. In addition, she’s a creamy, golden blonde and a joy to the ear of any man who works in an iron foundry or goes to football matches.

Uta Levka

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Made For Walking

They’re not just for show, after all. They’re not just to catch the eye. As the top pop disc illustrated, boots are made for walking.

Wearing this here pair is UTA LEVKA, as Continental as gateau or langouste. Black Boots, black mac and white stockings may have originated in King’s Road, Chelsea, but Uta thinks they’re just right in the Place de la Concorde. We asked her how many miles a day she walked in them their boots.

At which Uta raised her Continental eyebrows and said she used taxis to take her wherever she wanted to go. Otherwise, she said, her feet began to hurt.

Barbara Harrison

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How To Remain Lovely If Harassed

You wouldn't believe it but it's true. This young-looking brunette with the shapely legs and enchanting figure is another of those incredible mums you see pushing the pram and doing the shopping.

Very incredible is BARBARA HARRISON. She's a Yorkshire beauty, a housewife and the mother of four bonny children. No doubt about it, you can be harassed by four children, to say nothing of dad, but Barbara just lets it all pass her by and remains patient, good-tempered and lovely.

Her figure currently is 37-24-36. How about that, eh? Good on you, mum.

Patricia Charles

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Groovy Housewife

People who prefer bedding down under the railway arches or rusticating in Bloomsbury turn their noses up at suburban dwellers.

However, that doesn't make suburban dwellers less photogenic than freak-outs, and here's a housewife from the southern suburbs of London to prove it.

PATRICIA CHARLES is no humdrum cabbage, she's cute, vital and groovy.

To start with her measurements, add up to 36-23-36 and that's lovely and vital. And if any non-conforming freak-out can look as photogenic as this when answering the phone, we've been scandalously misinformed by all the relevant media.

Crystal Farmer

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Puss In Boots

If you saw CRYSTAL FARMER go by in her lace-up boots you'd think she was better than a Christmas pantomime.

Crystal was out in the country on this occasion and country boys were doing a lot of goggling. Most of the really dynamic birds inhabit the towns these days and country boys feel a bit deprived. Once upon a time they had rosy-cheeked milkmaids to chat up over the churns, but now the cows are all plugged in to vibrating electricity. Next it'll all be done by computers, and if the cows kick and the nuts and bolts go flying, serve the boffins right.

Crystal likes the country. She's one of nature's birds. Make a lovely milkmaid, she would.

"Oh, those good old days," said Clara.

Who's Clara?

Just a nostalgic cow we know.

Annette Carter (Crystal Farmer)

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My Word

The man with the rent book looked up as the door opened and tenant ANNETTE CARTER appeared.

“My word” said the fascinated rent collector.

“Oh, help” blushed Annette, a secretary and a doll.

"What a charming hat," said he.

"I thought you were Christabel," gasped Annette, "I'm not dressed to receive anyone else." And she retreated rapidly, trying to hide herself behind the curtain, but it was much too short.

"I'll come back later, shall I?" said the rent collector.

"Well, don't let's argue about it," said Annette, looking delicious in the palest pink knicks, "that would suit me fine."

And when he came back later, she pushed the rent under the door and he didn't even get another look at her hat.

Mary Collins

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Your Kind Of Daily

There's a lot to be said for one of those splendidly reliable dailies who pops into char around the flat for you and make it nice for you to come home to.

This kind of daily - motherly, warmhearted and a miraculous disposer of fag-ends, beer cans and old socks - is an asset no bachelor of any standing should be without.

Generally speaking, however, the kind of daily you all secretly yearn for outside the utilitarian world of domestic help, is someone like MARY COLLINS.

That's Mary in the centre of the trio. She's just been declared the winner of the competition run by the Daily Girl Club in West Berlin. The Daily Dollies of this club equate with Bunnies.

The competition was to find the most attractive Miss Bosom. And Mary, an eighteen-year-old London lovely, was declared that much in front of all other contestants. How nice to come home to.

Vicky Durrant

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V For Vicky

A bunch of eggheads gathered for an intellectual protest march in the center of London. It was something to do with demanding free French literature. Well, everyone else seemed to be wanting something for nothing, and the eggheads weren't too intellectual to miss the bandwagon.

Then VICKY DURRANT walked by in her boots and her mini.

The eggheads dumped their banners into the arms of the bystanders and found a new cause. Vicky for Prime Minister. They had new banners made, emblazoned with 'V for Vicky'.

Vicky emigrated to the Isle of Wight for a fortnight. She didn't want to be Prime Minister. Who does?

Well, there's You Know Who.

Nina Swallow

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Crossing the Line

There wasn't much danger of being hit by an express as NINA SWALLOW crossed the line down in the woods. It was only an old track once used to trundle wagons to and from the old quarry and Nina was just kicking around in her new boots.

Nina lives in Ealing, West London, and one of her outdoor recreations is walking. She likes old byways and country lanes and has a glamorous job as a house model to a firm of coat manufacturers.

All the products, look gorgeous on Nina, whose vitalistics are 37-24-36, and she keeps her shape in good, unvarying trim by her long walks.

Updates to some personal details on Nina’s home page.

Odette Nutter

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Order Of The Yorkshire Boot

Looking every inch, a potential centre-forward for Leeds is ODETTE NUTTER, who lives near Kippax in Yorkshire.

But it could be she's just given the order of the boot to some geezer she caught bending. Poor old devil.

Odette is a golden blonde with lovely legs and a nice line in suede boots, and if Yorkshire blokes keep their eyes open often enough, they might spot her one day.

Well, Odette doesn't keep herself shut away, you know.

Helen Milligan

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Gee Up!

But despite all loud yells of “Gee up, you four-legged loafer!" it was obvious that Rufus was far more interested in the elegant footwear of fashion model HELEN MILLIGAN than in getting himself attached to an old farm plough.

Rufus has as much appreciation of graceful-limbed Helen as we have.

Kathy Field

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Mustang No 9

Remember This Name

Kathy’s pictured here on a Sunday afternoon, because Sunday is her only day off. Business is so good, it keeps her busy - too busy, almost. And this is why she wore her elegant wig for these pictures. It’s a matter of disguise - we couldn’t have all our readers stampeding down to King’s Road, in search of Kathy, now could we. We reckon she gets besieged enough as it is!

But really, getting back to reality, if you want to know who she is we 'll give you her Who’s Who entry, which we’ve compiled ready for the day when Kathy gets more popular than Ursula Undress. Born: 1947. Brothers and sisters: none. Early interest in needlework and fashion later coupled with father’s capital to start Kathy’s own King’s Road, Chelsea dressmaking enterprise. Successful within two months. Besieged by customers and orders.

Then, strangers in the street will stop and cry to one another, “Kathy Field!" Our offices will be submerged with letters pleading for Kathy’s address. Kathy herself will be moved to some place of safety; maybe Buckingham Palace, because that’s about the only place we can think of where even a student demonstrator might think twice before invading!

Kathy Field. No, we’re not referring to where she is. It’s who she is. We suppose it’s possible to get confused like that, if you’ve never heard of Kathy Field before. But soon, such confusion will be im¬possible. Everyone will know who Kathy is, some day; the day when Mustang has got so popular that every man in the land reads it . . .

Jean Walker

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Micro Mini

If there's one thing JEAN WALKER likes for a table decoration, it's a bowl of Cornish wildflowers.

Jean, who lives in that county, is a golden-haired peaches-and-cream girl. It's what comes naturally when you're out of the smog and away from the concrete. And with her long legs Jean looks fascinatingly healthy in a micro-mini. Jeans are acceptable if she's painting her cottage, but out and about she believes with the boys that legs are to be seen if you want to

Make life look like springtime.

Jean does have a trouser suit and jeans, but they don't quite do for her what a micro-mini does.

Samantha Bond

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Samantha

A girl of today is SAMANTHA BOND, a lover of pop music and everything else that makes life a lovely giddy whirl of fun and fantasy.

Not for Samantha are the prophets of gloom. She's only got to give one of them that flashing smile of hers and he's a changed prophet.

"Ye gods," he'll say, "those ivory-white teeth, darling, are they the result of being so healthy and happy ?"

"No, just that extra-special double-mint whiteness that comes from using Crystal- Foam toothpaste with formula WGYF added," says Samantha.

"What's WGYF?" asks the entranced prophet.

"We've Got You Fooled," says Samantha.

Pinky Sands

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Treed

That reminds me, said Parsons during the directors’ lunch break, did I ever tell you about the time I went on a tiger hunt? I was after a fireside rug for Emily, she’d been nagging me about it ever since

Mrs. Gonk next door had knitted herself one. Well, there I was in the jungle with elephants all round me waiting to charge me and squash me flat as soon as I showed the top of my topee. The gun I had could lay a tiger flat but not an elephant, so what did I do? I popped up from the jungle grass like a champagne cork, and a big elephant on my right and a bigger one on my left immediately charged. Just as they reached me I sidestepped, the lumbering brutes met head-on and conked themselves stupid. Aroused by the noise, up trotted a tiger to sniff at me while I stood there all numb and hysterical. Would you believe it, just as the tiger was about to bite me in half a lady tiger whistled, the man tiger turned its head and I clouted it with all I’d got. Emily was ever so pleased. I don’t know what PINKY SANDS is doing up that tree, by the way. She looks absolutely ravishing, but it’s no way to catch a tiger and make a rug.