Crystal Farmer

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Crystal Clear

As sparkling as clear champagne is CRYSTAL FARMER, secretary and glamour girl.

It's a pity fellers can't win beautiful brides like Crystal in a decent competition, where if you can think of a suitable slogan for hot chestnuts, and send it in with three coupons, you stand a fair chance of winning.

Of course, you can't put birds in a lottery, it would send Women's Libbers raving bonkers— and cross as well—but if you could and if you did, who'd bother about football pools?

No one, if they stood a chance of winning a bride as gorgeously set-up as our Crystal.

Vicky Landau

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Just a Memory

When she left Hamburg some time ago to come to England, VICKY LANDAU thought well, it won't be long before I'm back, there's my dog Rupert and Willi Albrecht from the shipping company, they're both lovely.

But now Rupert the dog and Willi the shipper are both just a memory. Vicky is still here, established in a cosy flat in London and earning her keep by lucrative modelling jobs.

"Naturally," said Vicky in her fluent native tongue to Nigel Merry-weather in a London pub, "I shall go back one day, probably when I've made my fortune."

"Could you speak in English,” said Nigel, "as I only speak German like an incoherent Italian in a wine barrel."

"Oops, you are so funny," said Vicky.

"Actually," said Nigel, "I'm dead serious, you're the most devastating bird I've ever met, and I tell you frankly. I've got designs on you. Have two more double Scotches,"

"I think," said Vicky, "that you are trying to get me drunk.”

"I'll be truthful," said Nigel, "I'm that kind of rotter."

"Englishmen," murmured Vicky, "are fascinating but much too naughty," And she poured her drink down his shirt front and then conked him with a German candlestick she always carries in her handbag.

Leila Schell

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Lovely Anywhere

This could be anywhere, it could be in front of a door in a house in Boston, or outside a door in a house in Manchester, although it’s possible the discerning types would all be able to pinpoint the exact location from the knowledge they could draw from the copper pan above the door.

Any precise information would be received with courtesy rather than with relief as we admit to not being bothered about the location. What we do know is that the lady is LEILA SCHELL, who is French and must be adjudged lovely anywhere. And she couldn’t look more French than she does here, could she? Unless she hadn’t gone blonde.

Leila is an up-and-coming star of the Continental stage and films, so if you’re fond of Continental films and don’t get confused by all that dubbing, look out for her at the local Bijou.

Christel Birkholz

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Call of the Wild

THERE are some people who like the comfort and security of an armchair better than anything else. The only thing that gets them out of it is the chime of the ice cream van or the coo-hoo of the blonde who wants to share it. If Sir Francis Drake or Christopher Columbus had been like that, nobody would have gone anywhere and the Red Indians would still be undiscovered.

That might have saved Tarnation Jake from being scalped, but Jake being what he was it was the best thing that could have happened to him. To him the call of the wild meant getting there first and keeping it all to himself. Ornery old coot. After he lost all his hair it hurt him too much to keep his hat on and he got sunstroke. Poor old guy.

Nice to know the sense of adventure actuates CHR1STEL BIRKHOLZ, otherwise we wouldn’t see her in the great outdoors looking like an intrepid explorer’s beautiful dream. Intrepid explorers don’t only dream about hidden cities and odd-looking aborigines. They have moments when they’re just like the rest of us.

Christel, when she isn’t responding to the call of the wild and getting lost, is a West Berlin fashion model.

Wake up, Charlie, here comes the lollipop man. Go and get two orange-flavoured ones.

Sue Seymour

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It's a Great Life

You don’t have to wear a big Stetson and be a Texas oil millionaire to enjoy life. All that money helps, of course, but it’s not a necessity. As a millionaire you can own an ocean-going yacht and still get lost in a storm at sea, and what has life to offer you then if there’s no lifebelt in sight ?

You’d be better off as an ice-cream man on the beach at San Remo. Girl who doesn’t own any oil wells and only takes home what she earns as a shorthand-typist in a London office is SUE SEYMOUR. Life to Sue is simply great. She’s eighteen years old and she swings along with the London scene.

Big business executives work late and get ulcers Sue twists and shakes on the dance floor and has fun. She likes a game of tennis, a galloping horse and the deep end of a swimming pool.

Millionaires sweat over the tape machines and bite the ends off their Havana cigars over each share fluctuation. Sue carries on making the most of life, and in her gay pursuit of the great outdoor pleasures she takes her tent in case of rain.

The weather was fine on this occasion and if you know of a more idyllic combination than a tent, a quiet glade and sweet Sue, then don’t keep it to yourself.

Geraldine Gerrard

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Model Miss

If you’re as talented a model as Miss GERALDINE GERRARD, who is currently in demand with the fashion houses of Birmingham, Liverpool and Manchester, then you really are a model miss.

Marie Graham

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Look, What About My Legs?

"Eh ?" said Higgins the butcher.

“You heard,"said housewife MARIE GRAHAM. "What about my legs ?"

"Lovely," said Mr. Higgins.

"I ordered a leg of pork and a leg of lamb," said Mrs. Graham, "so where are they ?"

"Oh, them legs," said Mr. Higgins.

"Yes, them legs,"said Mrs. Graham, "for my dinner party. Some like pork and some like lamb and I'm hoping to please them all."

"Well, tell you what, invite me," said Mr. Higgins, "and I'll bring the joints round myself."

"Oh, be my guest, do," said the lovely young housewife.

"I'll have beef myself," said Mr. Higgins, "so I'll bring a steak too."

Debora Stewart

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Deb's Delight

If you’re reading the latest James Bond thriller, put it down for a moment and concentrate on DEBORA STEWART, who is our idea of the girl James would most like to read to him while recovering in hospital from being blown up by a load of Persian dynamite.

All that aside, the delight of Deb at this particular moment is her new mini-dress.

If you must know, it delights us too. Debbie looks so enchanting in it that irrespective of whether we’d been blown up by Persian dynamite or a Molotov cocktail, we’d like to have her to read to us too. It would be joy personified to our tender ears and it wouldn’t strain our eyes, either.

Well, you can’t help going overboard for the modern girl when they look so indescribably gorgeous. To think there were times when girls wore bustles and dim people didn’t even know how many legs they’d got. You couldn’t even see their shoes.

Of course you couldn’t, because they wore elastic-sided boots.

Dear Debbie, can we be your Valentine?

Maria Montez

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Mexican Dream

All the way from Mexico came a dream.

After the excitement of the Olympic Games there, MARIA MONTEZ couldn't settle to her work in a dress shop in Mexico City, so she came to Europe to participate in the happenings.

She finished up in London. The happenings in Paris and Rome were extremely Continental. Being pinched all the time was blush-making.

"And by perfect strangers, no doubt," said Sir Harry.

"Perfect? Senor," she said, "how can you say perfect when you mean naughty?"

"Ah, a good question," said Sir Harry.

"I do not mind a pinch here and there," said Maria, "but not by naughty men."

"I used to be naughty. I've grown out of it now," said Sir Harry.

Jutta Srippipatana & Ingrid Stengert

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Come and Join Me

The dark girl is JUTTA SRIPPIPATANA and the blonde who came to join her is INGRID STENGERT, and they’re both models in West Berlin.

Brenda North & Jane Rennie

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The Modern and the Married

For the traditional modern look, which is a kind of lovingly irreverent regard for sartorial non-conformity whatever that may mean we recommend BRENDA NORTH. She’s long-legged, black-sweatered, rain-coated and really as sweet as you can wish.

For the happily-married look, which is a kind of I’m-tickled-to-death-I-did-it look, who is a better example to set before you than JANE RENNIE who was wedded some months ago and still thinks everything’s absolutely divine? She may seem more interested in her long underwear, but strictly on the level her main hobby now is hubby.

Brenda has no thoughts of getting married herself yet. Well, at just eighteen everything, even time, is on her side, and there is the world to discover and all its excitements to explore. Who wants to get married? (It’s absolutely stinking the way that boy next door dives under his car whenever he sees me, he knows I’d love to help him change his tyre).

For that hap-hap-happy look, how about Jane, our dimpled delight.

Lynn Palmer

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Call For Miss Palmer

It was nice and quiet until the phone rang in the conservatory. It was a call for LYNN PALMER. There was a loud voice at the other end wanting to know what had happened to the fish, had it been shot to death and when Lynn, a window-dresser, had no idea what the idiot was on about and said so.

'Look here' said the idiot. "you're not trying to tell me you're dead ignorant about fish are you? You're Mavis Palmer, known as Underwater Lulu aren't you? You catch fish and sell them, don't you? Well, come round to my place and look at this skate you sold me. It's gone green."

"You've got the wrong person. I'm Lynn Palmer and I've never caught a fish in my life."

"Oh. really?" said the nut. "Well, stay there. I'll be right round and we'll go angling together

Joan Paul

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Rural View

“Hi,” said the man in the green jacket, “I can’t see any pheasants, but I’ve lost interest since I spotted you. Would you like to stay there while I go and change my gun for a camera?”

“I shan’t be here all day,” said JOAN PAUL, “so if you want to snap me, you’d better start running.”

So, the man in the green jacket went off at a trot, but he couldn’t find anyone with a camera who wanted to exchange it for a gun, and there was no alternative in the end but to go and buy one. By the time he returned to photograph the rural view with Joan in the foreground, Joan had gone home. There are other things to do in life besides waiting for a man to go and acquire a camera.

Ingrid Schoeller

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Italian Line

In Rome at the moment is INGRID SCHOELLER, film actress.

She isn’t the only one converted to the Italian line.

Beautiful girls from all over the world confess they are fascinated by the Italian line as soon as they arrive in Rome. Some also confess they are a little confused by it, especially Southern belles arriving from Atlanta, Georgia, where the men never pinch a girl, however luscious she is.

The Italian line has nothing whatever to do with coy reserve. If the Romans like the look of a flower of the Orient or a damsel from Denmark, they don’t believe in hiding their feelings.

They like Ingrid Schoeller very much. And Ingrid in turn is not without affection for Rome. As well as the Romans there are also all those lovely ancient monuments, which are extremely stimulating to any girl with an interest in old masonry.

Old masonry in the shadows of a Rome moon can be quite romantic.

Valerie Peters

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Commuter in the Country

We met her in the country when we were out for a walk with our dog. Her name is VALERIE PETERS, she’s a secretary who lives in Essex and commutes daily to and from London.

Outside her hometown the country is full of corn and tomato hothouses, and there are fields of long grass just beyond her back door. So, Valerie often takes her own dog for walks through the verdant green and it was a happy occasion for us when our walks coincided.

But our dog bit her dog and what should have been an opportunity for an interesting talk about politics turned into a doggy free-for-all.

You can’t trust any four-legged animal when the occasion is auspicious.