Living on the north side of London is a blonde dolly called VIKI HILL. Viki adores really geary clothes, like long leather boots, slinky nylons and eye-catching suspenders.
Other girls may go for draggy skirts reaching the ground and no make-up except lamp-black, but Viki likes to make the most of her shapely legs and her healthy figure.
What's a healthy figure?
Oh, something that measures up to 36-23-36.
To me, said Fred, that's cuddly.
Well, what's healthier than a cuddle?
Paris may have decreed that hemlines will become longer and longer, but gay leggy girls like ANN JAMESON, London fashion model, are going to fight that decree on a blow-by-blow basis.
The first blow Ann struck was to turn out in her itsy-bitsy mini, which was just about the briefest in town.
It was so brief that Mr. Jarvis Parkinson thought she was wearing a long-sleeved blouse and had forgotten her skirt. With the faintest tinge of embarrassment, he drew Ann aside and said. "Er-pardon me, Miss er-urn-’’
"I'm not Miss Er-Um," said Ann, “I'm Miss Jameson."
"Well-um-pardon me. Miss Jameson, but I wondered-er-if you knew-well, um-the fact is- “
"You’re very kind," said Ann. "but what I don't know I don’t worry about. Ignorance is sweet bliss, isn’t it?"
“Your wonderful, “said Mr Parkinson, “and I just hate having to leave you. but I’ve got a train to catch."
Beautiful Britons No 167 – October 1967
One way of spending a couple of chatty Hours with your girlfriend is to ring her up and let her pursue her natural talent for making a phone conversation last all day.
It’s even more like that on the Continent. The Continentals being naturally loquacious it’s asking for trouble to phone them when you’re in a hurry.
There was that nice feller Arnold, whose speciality was buying old electric kettles from gullible housewives and turning them into steam irons for the price of a new tweed suit. They never worked, of course, but he had such a way with him that no housewife ever complained. Anyway, he met an absolutely beautiful damsel called BARBARA VALENTIN when he was on the Continent.
When he got back to London he rang her up to ask her if he could see her in Cannes later that year. After listening to her answer, which was all in lovely lilting Latin and took two hours to deliver, Arnold managed to get a word in.
“What was that you said?” he asked numbly.
“Oui,” replied Barbara, and then in fascinating English she added, “And please, zat steam kettle you sell me, it do not work, no, never, it only spits hot water at me.”
“Oh?” said Arnold embarrassedly.
“Please,” said Barbara, “you send me back my money or I knock your big head off and queeck.”
It’s Friday night and SHIRLEY CAMPBELL has got a date and it’s just occurred to her what a giggle it all is. Well, there she is engaged in the pressing business of ironing her smalls and there he is, already waiting on the corner and wondering what’s keeping her. Shirley’s giggling at the idea of inviting him up to help her out with the ironing.
The trouble is when you’re in a hurry everything goes wrong, and those collapsible ironing tables are all too collapsible, and then the phone rings, and the doorbell buzzes and you can’t get your foot out of the under-structure. Never mind, the girls of Glasgow always come up smiling, even under circumstances like these, and Shirley is no less a typical Glaswegian than all the other cute lasses.
It’s worth a look, and so is SUE HALSEY.
Of course, not everybody gets the grand tour conducted by Sue. Not everybody’s that lucky. And those whom Sue has shown around have usually been unable to remember a thing about the Park. They’ve been too busy looking at Sue.
They’ve been too busy remembering how pretty Sue looked perched on that park bench. You too?
Looking just a little bit cheeky is Hampshire girl JANET COOKE. Janet works in Bournemouth but is hoping to become a photographic model. She has a very trim and fashionable figure measuring 35-22-34, chestnut-gold hair and blue eyes.
Photographers, please note.
Girl who belongs to the modern way of life is BRENDA NORTH, although you can see she likes communing with countryside as well as getting into the groove on the dance floor.
Brenda is slim, lively and likes to go, go, go, and if she looks a little dreamy when she’s out-of-doors, well, the girls in the mod mood today are dreamy, aren’t they?
Things haven't been going quite as exhilaratingly for JANE PAUL as she’d have liked over the last few years.
The fact is, Jane is a soccer fan and a supporter of Glasgow Rangers. And the way that other Glasgow team, Celtic, has been taking all the honours that were once almost exclusively marked up to Rangers has rendered life quite intolerable for Jane. It's made all the more fanatical Rangers supporters feel that life has been hardly worth living.
However.
There are always the compensatory factors associated with fashion to take a girl’s mind off the tribulations of soccer fans. And Jane, a Glasgow secretary, is mad about clothes. She’s bought herself a midi. And she’s gone off tights and gone back to stockings.
Tights are a must with a mini. They're not with a midi.
That's going to please an awful lot of men.
"Watch it," said Jane, "the men in Scotland aren't as awful as that."
There are a great many bonny girls in Scotland, all of whom catch the eye as they run for a bus, but it was quite ridiculous that secretary JOAN GLOVER should catch the eye when she wasn’t even running down the stairs.
Life is like that, not just for Joan but all of us. And because life is the way it is for all of us, life is fascinating.
You've got to hand it to the young generation.
They're not a bit inhibited, and they're so natural they make the rest of us feel how wrong we were to accept that gooseberry bushes had another role beside that of producing gooseberries.
Look at young CAROLINE SPENCER, looking ever so uninhibited in the park. Of course, there was no one about. Just a little riot going on under the trees where fellers were duelling with each other and panting "Hop it, I saw her first."
Caroline just sat there and took no notice.
A busy bee called Bertie buzzed furiously around all day—so much so that the other bees thought about reporting him to their union. "He’s flogging his wings to whiskers." they said. But Bertie cared not, neither did he cease, for he was inspired by the girl who came to the hive to see him at work. The girl was honey-blonde ANITA DALE of Earl’s Court, Kensington, and honey bees naturally buzz for honey blondes.
We sent one of our staff photographers out into Croydon and told him to bring back photographs of maxi-clad girls.
We don't think these dollies realise exactly how they look from behind in their ankle-length drapes, so we hope these shots will be a lesson to them.
Just by way of contrast our photographer also took photographs of mini-clad SUSAN DOUGLAS in the park. What the eye can see it can grieve about or delight in, and if anyone’s optics can't take in the object lesson of the contrast they must be all blurred and bloodshot.
Reaction of one maxi-clad office girl —
"Oh, that can’t be me—it makes me look like grandma, you rotter."
You remember that old gag—fellers never make passes at girls who wear glasses?
They swept that one under the carpet years ago.
You can’t wonder at it when you look at JANE MERCER. Jane, in or out of horn-rimmed specs, is ravishingly eye catching.
Some feller who saw her passing by in a mini was so dazzled he didn’t even notice her glasses. “I was looking the other way,” he said. Then there was the nice chap who helped her off the bus and got into such a tizzy over her blonde allure that he forgot to get off himself and went all the way up the Strand when he really wanted Waterloo Road.
Jane is a secretary, as you’ve no doubt guessed. You can see from her glasses just how efficient she is. Aside from that she has lovely legs and a bewitching figure measuring 37"-23"-36".
Croydon secretary’ with all the appeal every secretary should have is JUDY COE, swinging girl in a swinging scene.
That coal bucket is just a gag, of course. Judy doesn't think in terms of coal buckets and she thought this one was a converted Roman helmet and wanted to know which museum we'd nicked it from.
But she looks a dish in a sweater, don’t you think?
“It’s all wool,’’ she said, “and saves me having to light the fire. Do you remember where I put my hat?”
It was a good question but we had no idea how to answer it.
There comes a time in the life of the happy bachelor when he's willing to relinquish the wheel to a girl.
When Monty took off for a country inn with PATSY FRENCH, he realised he could only enjoy the view of the road. What he had in mind originally was a lunch of bread and cheese and pickles with Patsy, but halfway there he decided bread and cheese and pickles may be the staff of life but they don't represent absolute bliss.
Bliss absolute can be the Beatles or Tom Jones or Elvis Presley, or even a Chopin melody on a grand piano. To Monty it was a view of Patsy in the driving seat. So he stopped the car and gave her the wheel.
What a vision. What a driver.
It mattered not that she drove up hills in top gear, took corners on one wheel and parked the car so that he couldn't get out on his side. Patsy in the driving seat was absolute bliss and so were the pickles.
