Elaine Stephens

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Pigtails and Pep

When ELAINE STEPHENS was a leggy schoolgirl she used to find that the noisy boys wanted to tweak her pigtails and the nice boys wanted to carry her books. The barbarous ones only ever wanted to kiss her.

Elaine, all grown-up now. still has her pigtails—but no one pulls them anymore, and no one carries her books.

The barbarous boys who have grown into barbarous men are the ones who have remained in the picture, of course.

"The trouble is." says Elaine, "they still think Sunday afternoons are the time for them to come around and kiss me in the summer-house. What sauce!

When I was a schoolgirl. I’ll admit I did get kissed in the summer-house, but I never ever go in there now— except on Sunday afternoons."

Anne Mattingley

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All Soaped Up

It's ANNE MATTINGLEY who’s getting herself into a lather over the household chores

Actually, Anne was doing very well until she slipped on the soap and ended up exactly where it most hurts. And where it was most wet.

All soaped up. Anne decided she might as well give her skirt its weekly tub.

Anne, a London typist, has more than one skirt, however. That doesn't mean she's rich, only well-equipped.

We like both skirts. So, does the milkman who spotted them on his way round to deliver the midday milk

Directoire Controversy

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Directoire Controversy

Dear Rosemary,

Letter No. 77 by Escort caused quite an argument in our private club the other evening. It was mentioned that he had said that directoire knic­kers were only worn nowadays by schoolgirls and old maids. Several of the girls present heatedly denied this and were led in their arguments by Helen, who is about as glamorous a girl as anyone could wish to meet. She agreed that some directoire knickers, and especially those of the 1920’s were too full and didn’t emphasize the figure sufficiently, but maintained that modern knickers, if tastefully chosen, could be equally glamorous as the French type. She said that they were much more comfortable and warmer on cold winter days because of the elastic around the legs, and that she herself wore them frequently. The majority of us replied, that, although we certainly couldn’t accuse her of being either an old maid or a schoolgirl, we thought that the flowing lines of the French type were much more glam­orous. Helen grew quite excited about the subject and declared that she was wearing directoire knickers at that moment, and that if one of the girls who was wear­ing the French variety would volunteer to help, she would show us her own and let us decide on the spot. After some hesitation among the girls, Jean blushingly promised to help her out.

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Linda Clemenes

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Linda The Goer

Talking about geary goers, as we were some pages back, how about 18-year-old LINDA CLEMENES of Portsmouth down in lovely Hampshire?

Linda is such a goer that nothing less than a motorbike suits her desire to get up and go at speed. Her motorbike is her great love. There are boyfriends, of course, but mostly they take a back seat on the pillion.

Linda works for her local paper, she has dark brown hair that is fascinatingly ruffled and windswept, and brown eyes that often look browner through her goggles.

Her vitalistics are 37-25-36, and her long legs look extremely geary in her motorcycle boots. Don't get in the way if you see her coming, you'll get caught in her slipstream.

Minuit Cinq No 19

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No 19

Eva Bartok

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Leather Weather for Eva

Since it won’t be too long before Europe will be discarding the bikini in favour of warmer wear, EVA BARTOK, the Hungarian actress, is trying out leather fashions in West Berlin.

Eva, always in the front of what’s new in fashion, is quite aware of the fact that all those vast herds of steer don’t wear their hides for nothing. They sure keep the cold out.

But that isn’t to say you can’t turn a hide into something that will make a woman snug and warm and gorgeous.

And it certainly gives her a shine.

Nicola Taylor

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Pick-Me-Up

You can be the most indispensable secretary to the busiest tycoon in Black Boulder Falls or Little Twittering, but you can’t keep at it indefinitely. Sometime you’ve got to put the lid on the typewriter and go in for a bit of rollicking fun.

Like letting off a firework in a room full of transcendental meditators or taking a ride on a recalcitrant bicycle. NICOLA TAYLOR chose the latter. She went spinning down the garden path, through the gate, down the lane and up the hill.

Then there was a crunch, a clatter and an “Ouch!”

Oh well, it’s all part of a pick-me-up.

Millicent Dawson

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You Could Have Fooled Fred

"Now this is a part of London noted for its hilly position and its vistas," said the guide, "and there for instance, you can see the clock tower of the Edward­ian town hall—"

"Hold on," said Fred, "you could have fooled me if I'd only been listening, but I been looking as well, and that's no clock tower."

"Eyes the other way, if you please," said the guide, who was a walloping great woman who didn't like anyone not paying proper attention.

But Fred resigned from the Hamp­stead tour and introduced himself to a vista he much preferred to clock towers. It was London model MILLICENT DAWSON and Fred being so polite as well as raising his hat, they had a coffee together and then visited the Hamp­stead funfair.

Fred got stuck on the Dodgems and Millicent went off to audition for a commercial in Barbados. While Fred was still going round and round Millicent won through.

Norma Gordon

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Gang Awa

The fact is, sultry NORMA GORDON, Scottish beauty queen, was in the Highlands one day and over the border the next. Reason? She had a date with a handsome Yank—the kind of date she just couldn’t miss. The day before we took these photographs he proposed and the day after Norma went and married him. She kept it so dark we didn't even have time to buy her a blue garter to wear.

We should have guessed something big was cooking, for Norma was so absent-minded at this sitting she fell off the sofa twice. The fact that she came up smiling on each occasion should have given us an added clue. This whirling pirouette she executed for the sheer joy of it, and we still didn't realise why.

We presume that was because we’re not currently madly in love ourselves. Oh, youth—oh, springtime—oh, vanished vitality and aching backs. Oh, that lucky Yank.

Jan Newman

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Story of a Dream

It was night. Well, it was all dark, anyway, and Fred was in bed. And solidly immersed in a dream about fishing boats.

When Fred is solidly immersed his mind is totally unimaginative.

Far removed from boats and fish is our kind of dream. Her name is JAN NEWMAN. She lives on the South Coast and is a sun worshipper. If, when you are deep in sleep, you can dream about a dream like Jan, then you'll have a far more sublime period of floating sub-consciousness than silly old Fred.

Don't ask us how.

Perhaps it's just a matter of artistic concentration and the right kind of night-cap.

Jan is a secretary, a richly corn-coloured blonde with the loveliest legs. If you like elegance, you whistle. If you like dumplings, go home to mother.

Sometimes even elegance takes a tumble. Still, it was entirely involuntary. Jan thought there was a chair there. Never mind, it does prove our point, that she really does have the loveliest legs.

Vanda Vane-Dotson

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Tremendously busy, said VANDA VANE-DOTSON.

She was up from the country and typing manuscripts for an enthusiastic author, who, if the truth must be known, felt that his cloak-and-dagger thriller about detergent sabotage in London and New York paled by comparison with the thrilling incandescence of Miss Vane-Dotson.

Vanda, often seen at Hunt Balls where they like the atmosphere to be glowingly incandescent, was insistent on helping the author reach page 327, which was the end of the novel, but it wasn’t half a slog and by the time she had tapped the last full stop she was ready for a cheese sandwich and two glasses of champagne.

Susanne Kent

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Down by The River

You can see much down by the river.

You can see swans, graceful and deliberate, gliding o’er the shining waters.

You can see the odd duck. Some ducks, of course, are more odd than other ducks. It’s not easy to resist the onset of neurotic tendencies when you have to put up with all those larky drakes.

You can see bulrushes and tiddlers and things that go plop. The day when we went down we saw SUSANNE KENT, and that was the day when things that go plop went unheeded.

Susanne is eighteen, lives near Glasgow, is a college girl with a Swiss finish, and is chasing the rewards attendant on being a top model.

How delightful.

Valerie Peters

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Secretary At Work

Most secretaries are regarded as an indispensable part of that strata of commerce and industry which is responsible for high- powered organisation and administration. In case you find that vague or indefinable, it means secretaries are on a higher plane than the girl who pushes the tea trolley round, and rightly so. Most secretaries are beautiful as well as efficient. This is because there are few men so dull as to settle for efficiency alone.

Most secretaries who are beautiful as well as efficient also possess a much more glamorous look than most fashion models. This is because most models are miserably skinny, poor dears, and most secretaries elegantly and naturally curvy. A typically beautiful, efficient and elegantly curvy secretary is VALERIE PETERS of Hornchurch, Essex. We couldn’t show you Valerie at work in her office as we couldn’t get our tripod through the front door—there was a big, upstanding commissionaire in the way.

But Valerie at work in her own home on a warm day makes a delightful alternative to Valerie at work behind her desk. It may not have the atmosphere of that upper strata of commerce and industry, but we don’t care—do you?

Sally Anne

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Sally Anne

Beckenham is a pleas­ant place just outside suburban London in the boundary of Kent, and it's just like other pleasant resi­dential spots in its quota of attractive housewives. One of them is SALLY ANNE, who enjoys being an efficient housewife and an amateur mod­el. Sally's husband is a keen photographer and in return for doing the washing-up he gets his own re­ward—in the shape of Sally posing for him. The results, as seen here, are worth clean­ing the carpets as well.

There is something rather fetching about a wife who assists her hubby's hobby by looking as pretty as this. We should like to add, of course, that while hubby is an enthusiastic cameraman, his main hobby—nat­urally—is Sally herself. Well, any man with a wife as photogenic as this would be somewhat off his nut if he didn't give her precedence.

Anytime you're around Becken­ham just look out for the girl with the golden hair—and if she's got a long plait to it, that's Sally Anne.

The reflection of Sally in the mirror is a sure sign that twin views of the attractive housewife are always better than one.

Stephanie St.Laurent

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Its Lovely in the Park

At this time of the year it's lovely in the park.

It's even better than that when STEPHANIE ST. LAURENT is around. After all, however sweet the daisies are, however green the grass, what can add more ornamental adornment to the scene than one of nature's mini-dad dolly girls?

You could try a statue of Venus de Milo, of course.

But that's only a lot of polished marble.

A living, breathing Stephanie is far more alluring.