Sandra Morrell

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It Used To Be Boots and Saddles

In the days when the West was won, it used to be boots and saddles and the sound of the bugles as the U.S. Cavalry came charging up to save the pioneers from being skewered to their waggon wheels by flaming arrows of fire or something.

That's all gone now. The pioneers have all struck oil and the Red Indians are doing their own thing, which is watching Geronimo on the telly.

Today for boots and saddles you can read boots and minis.

SANDRA MORRELL, winner of beauty contests, is all for boots and minis.

We're all for Sandra, she can look scintillating just lounging about.

Sally Forbes

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Domestic Problem

Confronted with a carpet that badly needed cleaning, the problem for sweet SALLY FORBES was in a sweeper that suddenly went kaput.

Sally being a shorthand-typist was not too well acquainted with the Ins and outs of what makes a carpet - sweeper tick, so if the problem had been one that really worried her, what was she laughing about? It’s ticklish, said Sally, and that's a fact. What’s ticklish? Not the problem, said Sally, but the brush —you try shaving with it and see for yourself.

Picture of Sally girl who has eventually realised that a dud carpet - sweeper is no laughing matter, after all. She’s got company coming for tea.

Mary Graham

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Mary, Mary 

Repeatedly the recipient of readers’ eulogies is bonny MARY GRAHAM, lovely young lady from Ayrshire. One of our most popular Scottish models, Mary comes up looking better every time she appears, and if this is because she probably has the shapeliest legs North of the Border we wouldn’t be surprised.

Along with the attractiveness of Mary’s pretty legs goes Mary’s sunny smile.

These pictures of Mary should either prove the point for doubting judges or confirm it for those in no doubt at all.

We hope to see more and more of Mary in 1963, in which case these should be the first of 1963 's many.

Jane Rennie

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I’m All Right, Jack

It wasn’t anything any girl couldn’t cope with providing she was a motor mechanic, and It was just a quirk of fate that JANE RENNIE happened to be one of those who wasn’t. She couldn’t think why the car was charging lumpishly along like a three-legged elephant, and passing fellow-motorists were happy in the fact that her trouble wasn’t their trouble.

In other words, Jack was all right. As for Jane, she couldn’t think why the rear offside wheel and tyre had such an odd look, but where there’s another wheel there’s always a way. Change ’em over. So, she did. And there you are.

Helene Gibbs

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The Lolly is Lovely

HELENE GIBBS, arrived in London some several months ago. She didn't expect to make her fortune overnight, but did hope she'd be able to earn enough lolly to pay the rent of her little flat in Camden Town and keep her in food and clothing.

A dancer, Helene thought London's theatres and night clubs wouldn't actually be short of scintillating exponents of this art, and it was with surprise and delight that she found her talents accepted.

Now she's dancing nightly in cabaret. The lolly is lovely, so are the audiences.

At five feet six, with measurements of 37-24-36, Helene is lovely too, especially when photographed in the environs of leafy Hampstead.

Annette Wilson

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Rain or Shine

It’s not the parasol that counts, it’s the girl. The girl is ANNETTE WILSON, the parasol is just some little thing she bought in a Local store when they were selling off during the summer rain. The truth is, in rain or shine, with or without parasol, Annette is a curvy, shapely pin-up, and if you met her on the beach or on a foggy day in London you’d find the day would look suddenly brighter. There are girls and girls—most of them undeniably attractive (for such is the way the modern misses are growing up these days)—and of many girls Annette can be counted among the tops. She’s a honey-blonde and measures 36"-23"-36".

Annette is a Scot and once she played the bagpipes. Some nearby Irishman complained so Annette hasn’t played them since.

Annette likes dancing, theatres, horse-riding. She is a dancer herself and has the long, graceful legs that make the best dancers so efficient and so eye-catching.

Annette also likes food. Growing girls mostly do. She favours no particular kind of cooking and can enjoy French, Italian, Spanish or Scottish dishes with equal relish. With a palate as cos­mopolitan as that the capitals of Europe— and she’s been to most of them—can offer her all their own particular recipes with happy confidence that she’ll do them justice.

Used Books Information

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At last I have sorted all the books I have had boxed up. I have placed all the best of these up for sale here. The ToCo books are all complete, with all the others to follow over the next few months.

The other books, which are not of the highest grade but still quite collectable, I am placing up for sale on eBay in small lots. I have about 600 plus of these to sell over the next few months - not just ToCo, all sorts of different titles, although I plan to clear all the ToCo books first. This will be done over the coming months and I hope to have them all gone by late spring.

If you are interested in second hand books, then please do take a look to see what’s on offer. I have listed 90 copies of Spick today in lots of 10 books. 

For those who have been asking about the SRA books, the eBooks are coming next, with my excess copies to follow in a few months time.

eBay Link  All-Things-ToCo

Helen Jones

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Music Lover

One of the leading lights of London at the moment is HELEN JONES. She's a genuine swinger. Wherever there's something going on that's at all worthwhile, you can bet your psychedelic pink shirt that Helen will be conspicuously ravishing.

She's a model with a big London agency and appeared in the film 'Love Variations'. That was a genuine swinger too.

Helen is twenty-one, lives in North London and is a music lover. She adores both classical and underground music.

Underground? You mean on a tube train?

"Great tombstones," said Helen "how long have you been dead?"

That, of course, proves that if you don't speak the language of the swingers you might as well spend your time in museums.

Ah well, you can always sort out a nice, sympathetic mummy to talk to.

Cathy Meadows

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Never Mind Who Wears the Trousers

There's a lot of it about. A lot of talk about the full emancipation of women and how it's their turn to wear the trousers for the next ten thousand years.

But never mind who wears the trousers, the fact is CATHY MEADOWS wears a lovely pair of boots. She could kick a lot of fellers around in these but wouldn't dream of it. She's deliciously feminine, as a matter of fact, and doesn't think trousers and braces would suit her.

Cathy is a Yorkshire girl, and has just left college to work in an office and study her prospects. In her spare time, she's taking a modelling course. There's always room for one more model as good-looking as Cathy.

Vanda Vane-Dotson

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It’s Never Like This With a Horse

Tall, bi-lingual, pro-debutante VANDA VANE-DOTSON is not among those photogenic girls who can’t resist the lure of becoming all willowy and glossy in the London fashion world.

For Vanda a flat in London is not to be compared with a Georgian house in the Sussex countryside. Let those who have to launch themselves into the traffic do so. Vanda opts for an open-air environment, where she’s got all the room she needs for horse-riding and whizzing around in her sports car. Speaking of cars, it isn’t every girl who can alight from a friend’s model and get a tight skirt caught in a tight door.

As Vanda said at the time, “It’s never like this with a horse. You can fall off a horse, certainly, and you can even rip your jodhpur’s, but nothing like this can happen to you.’’

Perhaps she’s right. But there’s a first time for everything, you know.

Marilyn Ward

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My Boutique

Boutiques are still in. Boutiques are where the teenagers congregate on Saturdays, filling the place with exuberant cries of “Oh Danny, just cast your optics at this crepe two-piece—isn’t it just the sharpest thing for dancing the hornpipe?” They don’t all talk like that, but it’s ear-binding to hear those that do.

MARILYN WARD hears it all the time. She runs a boutique in Bournemouth and if you want to see how she looks in a couple of the most delightful outfits available here’s your chance.

We can’t describe them, we don’t have the designer’s highly involved details, but since seeing’s believing don't ask for descriptions.

When a zip runs it really runs, and when is a mini not a mini?

When it’s worn as a shirt. We don’t know if you prefer Marilyn or the dresses, we like them like crazy all together.

Maria Howell

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Model Maria

Dark and vivacious MARIA HOWELL is a model with a mission. To make enough money to retire to sunny Spain.

Maria knows all about Spain. Part-Spanish herself, she’s worked both in Barcelona and Madrid.

Now she’s back in England, working hard, saving hard, and dreaming of the day when she’ll return to the land of oranges and ole! (And what about the matadors?)

Linda Crosby

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Take a Letter

THE day-to-day routine of pretty LINDA CROSBY consists of taking dictation from her boss, for Linda is a shorthand-typist. She is also photogenic enough to be a glamour girl, but for the moment is quite happy working at the office and taking life as she finds it.

Linda is eighteen, is a Lancashire girl and with statistics of 36-23-36 looks naturally good in a sweater. At 5' 7” tall she admires men who are six-footers, and as far as types are concerned it’s Latin for preference.

Probably her Latin preference stems from the fact that Linda has worked in Spain, and there is nothing quite like the courtesy those matadors out there extend to English girls. It makes a girl feel real good.

So, any time you should meet Linda yourself remember you'll go down as quite a type yourself if you can manage a little Castilian courtesy. You won’t have to fight a bull. Mainly, it's a few old world bows and a kiss or two on the hand. Cor!

Gail Johnson

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Gail Warning

The farmer's boy came whistling over the fields. He was carrying a haystack. He was a strong lad. Then he saw GAIL JOHNSON, an absolutely ravishing, blue-eyed blonde.

Gail thought she was all alone. She did wonder why a distant haystack looked as if it was moving about, but not being an agriculturalist she put it out of her mind.

It was a hot day and just right for gambolling about in undies. Then the haystack stopped moving and a face came out from under it. The face of the farmer's boy. Gail gave him one warning.

"Don't you dare look or I'll fire six rounds into you."

The farmer's boy couldn't help looking. Corks, what a peach, he thought. So, Gail fired six rounds. They thudded into the haystack. The farmer's boy was ever so relieved, any one of those rounds might have injured his appetite and he was looking forward to pork pie for supper.

"Missed me," he said.

Gail reloaded.

The farmer's boy knew when he was well off. He picked up the haystack and ran. He tripped over a furrow and the haystack fell on him.

"Serve him right," said Gail, "shouldn't have such goggle eyes."