It's a very fine difference, indeed, between one fashion and another. In floating skirt and frills, TONI SEARLE deliciously illustrates how fine is yesterday's fashion.
Looking extremely summery, Toni matched the colourful environment of the countryside near her home in Kent. If Kent is the garden of England, Toni is one of its more enchanting blooms.
Weekdays she's a typist. Weekends she's a dream.
If you're over forty, you'll no doubt have acquired experience, sophistication and an ability to recognise a door-to-door salesman who's offering you a bargain and one who's having you on.
Even so, you'll not be the girl you were at twenty. You may look more beautiful—having captured that undeniably curvaceous look which no true woman likes to be without, but some of the spring will have gone. And you're gladder each day to get your corset off each night, if we may coin the phrase.
Therefore, vigorous physical jerks are not for you. They're much more for young housewives like LESLIE PETERS and JANE RENNIE, pictured here in a vibrating skipping routine that went slightly haywire.
Jane is the one who fell flat on her back. Leslie is the one still on her feet. They're both extremely modern housewives with such an extremely modern urge to keep slim, trim and vital that falling about all over the place all seems a repercussive part of their dynamic physical jerks.
No model has hit the glamour headlines with greater impact than lovely JUNE PALMER, one of our consistent top pops. June is the perfect answer to the fallacy that gentlemen prefer blondes.
June, a London girl, is a full-time model and loves every minute she spends in front of a camera. She is, in fact, a perfect pin-up in every way.
It was like the man next door who left his house to catch his train to work. He looked absolutely dapper, as he always did, in his single-breasted, narrow-lapelled charcoal grey suit, complete with buttonhole. But he was still wearing his carpet slippers and when he reached the station the only thing the friendly porter could do was to lend him a pair of railway boots.
The day was a ridiculous one for him, he spent it noisily clumping round the office, making the typists quiver and inciting the boss to send out orders demanding the removal of some road-breaking machine that had been smuggled into the building.
Well, it didn’t get as ridiculous as that for BRITT HAMPSHIRE. She only forgot her gloves. She had everything else needed to make a girl look well-dressed and glamorous and gloves hardly mattered. It was just that a finishing touch, like neat gloves or cute hat, completes a girl’s look to her own satisfaction.
Sometimes when a girl feels gloves are a must, such as on the occasion of being a guest at a well-dressed wedding, and she finds she’s either forgotten them or misplaced them, the event is absolutely ruined for her.
She feels quite undressed.
To be a really good model, you not only have to be a pretty type — you have to be a pretty tough type. That’s what MAUREEN HUCKER found when a recent assignment took her out into the country and it began to rain.
"Do we stop?” she asked the cameraman, and the cameraman, all wrapped up in raincoat, hat and umbrella, thought she was fooling. "Stop?” he said. “What for?”
“Because it’s raining and I’m wet,” said Maureen, and the cameraman said I’m all right, Jack, why should I worry?
“Oh, gosh," said Maureen, “these pictures could be called Girl and a Shower, and you,” she added under her breath, “are the shower, you rotter.”
According to her fans, NICOLA TAYLOR turns them all on, and there's hardly a day goes by without some entirely susceptible Charley boy doesn't spin round until he drops.
Nicola is a Hampshire girl with her own way of looking lovely. She simply remains herself.
There was a sensitive baby elephant which spent all its growing years trying to look like a bunch of flowers. It didn't create any real impact, and one day when it emerged from the river looking exactly like a growing baby elephant, an American lady tourist said, "Oh, how cute, can I buy that one?"
The baby elephant was happy ever after.
There you are, then. If you're lovely in your own way, be like Nicola and the baby elephant. Just remain yourself and don't grow a beard.
There's a saying that if you wear a sprig of heather it will bring you luck. If you wear a sprig of Scottish heather, it's said you'll never have the misfortune to fall into Loch Ness and be eaten by the monster.
Now then. HEATHER BROWN was on holiday in Scotland and she and her boyfriend were out in a boat. He was wearing a sprig of local heather. He fell in. Heather rescued him. "There you are," he panted wetly, "what luck, it didn't eat me."
"It wasn't there," said Heather, "this is Loch Lomond."
"Never mind," he said, "you're my best bit of real luck, if you hadn't been around you couldn't have pulled me out."
Heather giggled.
Very frisky indeed were the passing breezes on the day MARION McCRECOR took a trip into the country, catching her just at the crucial moment of climbing the fence.
Ah, well, it’s fun to be alive and what’s a fence or a frisky breeze when you're young enough to take both in your stride?
Perhaps you've never been to Persia. They call it Iran now, but it's the same place.
The poets and the songwriters used to write lovely things about Persian gardens. Well, here's a ravishing bloom straight out of a Persian garden. CAMELLIA TIRAN. She's been in England for quite a few years and at eighteen she's still blooming.
Camellia makes dresses and gives them all a touch of Persian enchantment, and if you know any nice concubines tell them they'll look exquisite in anything Camellia turns out. There's nothing like a bit of the old Persian enchantment to add lustre to a saucy Fatima.
When we were young we thought we knew it all. We thought, as every generation thinks, that we were the ones who’d discovered sex. We forgot that when Shakespeare was young his generation discovered it too.
Not concerned with any burning questions which don’t concern her academic pursuits, CHRISTINE NORTON is a student whose spare time is fully taken up with intensive studying.
Now and again she does break out, however, such as when she entered the Miss Enfield beauty contest and delightedly found herself a finalist.
Other than that it’s pen and pencil-biting sessions over books and logarithms and what were the economic reasons that led to the French Revolution and why Lincoln was so passionate at Gettysburg.
It’s a lot to cram into the mind of any lovely learner when there is so much gay living going on elsewhere. Christine admits she sometimes wants to drop everything and go down to the river for a trip in a canoe. But if she wants to qualify as a linguistic secretary or as a junior executive on a woman’s magazine, she’s got to forget canoes and things.
It’s not like winning the pools and saddling yourself with a trunkful of fivers that you don’t know what to do with. (You all know how difficult it is to spend money when you’ve got such a lot of it).
You’re in the money in a different way when you’re handling other people’s cash, as CLAIRE PETERS does. Claire is a cashier and what a pretty one. You kind of fall into her green eyes and forget your change. “Sir—your change.”
“Never mind all that humdrum lolly—what’s your phone number?” Honestly, some people.
Pay day was still a little way off so all that Middlesex beauty queen DIANE CLARKE could do was window shopping.
Still, that gives a girl as much pleasure as going into the shop and not making up her mind, anyway. Girls in shops look their prospective purchase over, murmur “Mmmm .. . yes ... it’s lovely . . . but I was looking for something different,” and the assistant stands first on one foot, then the other.
Diane saved all that fiddling about by just window shopping. She was able to fall in love with all kinds of items without making any assistant hop worriedly about.
As a matter of fact, Diane in her mini outfits looks much better than any-thing we’ve seen in any window.
Nothing counts for more in the life of a film star than the rapturous acclaim of a bedazzled crowd, overflowing their own feet as each man and each woman shoves and pushes to get a glimpse of You-Know-Who. What we like is more a personal appearance, really, such as JANE PAUL always catches the eye with. Well-groomed, well-brushed, no stocking wrinkles, everything neat and clean and tidy and fab. Super-duper entrancing Miss Paul.
When one is not only studying Chinese in a Paris university but also working hard in one’s spare time to earn one’s university fees, one needs the occasional break.
MARIE AUGE may not be able to afford a five-course lunch, even though there’s nothing that would give you greater joy than buying her one, but she has to eat.
During university recesses Marie works as a manicurist. At lunchtime break she likes a soufflé.
At a Chinese restaurant she knows in Paris they serve the most aromatic and fluffy soufflés. She orders in Chinese. It helps her with her homework. It seems a terrible waste dedicating oneself to Chinese, because there’s not much call for it except in China. Where’s China? Oh, sorry, Chairman Mao.
When she’s not doing six things at once for her boss —and chasing up the junior who makes the office coffee—lovely ANNE STEWART is doing odd jobs in her flat or sailing boats off the Hampshire coast or hacking over the Downs. As a secretary Anne is both beautiful and efficient, and as a wielder of a paint brush or a knocker-in of nails she’s no less beautiful and probably just as efficient. She’s a dab hand with a screwdriver and knows what she's doing with a brace and bit. As you lie in your deckchair, doing nothing but waggling your toes in the sunshine, aren’t you just a little mortified that you don’t even know what a brace and bit is?
Anne, by the way, loves to travel and is saving up to buy her own car for use on the next trip abroad she makes. There's hardly any need to mention that she’ll be able to do her own maintenance on the vehicle.
