Three always is a nice crowd when it's made up of MARIE GRAHAM, standing, blonde EVE LAW kneeling on the left and NICOLA TAYLOR on the right.
The girls got together in a young wives' Club P.T. session, designed to keep one's shape shapely, and we snaked along and sneaked our photographer in to make a record of the proceedings.
It was fun, really, and being really hospitable they gave him tea when he'd snapped his final shot.
Fashion model PAMELA JOHNSON, elegantly poised at 5' 6", is in a reflective mood as she eyes herself in the mirror, but her problem isn't the same as yours or ours. She’s bothered about whether to spend two months on the Riviera or three months on the Adriatic. The difference in the time period is governed by economics, it being cheaper on the Adriatic.
But all those marvellous Mediterranean dishes . . .?
Med dishes we like. You’re delicious too, Pam.
It’s not every day you see a girl on a bicycle. Once upon a time many a pretty poppet flashed by on her two-wheeler, creating as pretty a picture of graceful movement as you could wish for.
Not these days. These days a girl on a bike is almost a rarity. They’ve all got their cars, from sporty runabouts to incredibly expensive limousines.
So, naturally, when we saw ROSWITA MAVERMANN, a delightful secretarial type, on a gleaming two-wheeler, we stopped to drink in the nostalgic atmosphere of the view.
I wish you’d go away,” said Roswita, “I can’t learn to ride while you‘re there.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because you’re looking,” said Roswita.
“Go on, let yourself go.”
“Certainly not,” said Roswita, “I might fall off.”
Well, Oliver Twist for one.
And then there’s that incurably fat feller down at the gasworks who never says anything but “I’ll have the same again,” no matter what the question is. How’s your wife, how’re the kids, how’s your father, how’s your stomach, what’s your beer intake like these days? You get the same reply to all of them.
But surely if you’re looking for a girl who represents all that is brightest, swingiest and cutest about girls today, you couldn’t ask for a representative more delightful than LINDA WHITE. Glasgow hair stylist and beauty consultant, Linda keeps the young men fracturing their eyelids and the older men on the top storeys of their observatories, where they maintain a constant vigil at the small end of their telescopes, these being trained on Sauchiehall Street in the hope of catching Linda mounting a bus or hopping into a taxi.
You can’t ask for more when you’re over thirty and all you’ve got is a tall observatory and a long telescope.
We didn't know how lucky we were the day we lost our train. We had to take a bus instead and who should drop a box of preserved fruits at our feet just as we were about to board the platform was a striking example of photogenic sex appeal from Newcastle.
As well as our train, we lost our bus. Still, we did get offered a preserved fruit. It took our appetite away a bit as we don't eat between meals.
Her name was NINA BARRETT. She moved to London three years ago to work as a secretary and is now doing modelling. She has fascinating green eyes, a fluent flow of scintillating conversation and a way of convincing one that there are other things in life besides money.
When we've got plenty, we'll go and get convinced all over again.
For your records, Nina is 5ft 2”, dynamically blonde and measure 36"-22"-35".
When you think of Yorkshire you think of how they can’t half play cricket up there.
You think of the wham of bat clouting ball and the cry of agony as ball suddenly clouts a forgetful batsman. A forgetful batsman is an old silly— anyone who can’t remember to duck when there’s a bouncer on its way comes into that category.
Well, then, that’s what you think of when you think of Yorkshire. You certainly wouldn’t imagine that they’ve got a bricklayer up there who’s better with a trowel than she is with a bat.
Fact, though. LORNA MORRELL from Queensbury, near Bradford, can lay a brick better than you can lay a fiver on a hundred-to-one cert. She also collects antiques. And she’s got just the right kind of legs to make a miniskirt look gorgeous.
Still, it just wouldn’t be cricket to produce a photograph of lovely Lorna and say “Look, there’s a Yorkshire bricklayer.’’ The surprise would be equivalent to what you get for being an old silly when there’s a bouncer on its way.
Remember the days when the picture of a pretty girl alighting from a car caused twinkles to run up and down your vertebra?
Those were the days when stocking- tops would peep.
That's all over now. Pretty suspenders are seen no more. They're all wearing tights.
There should be a protest march. There may be nothing political about the issue, but we can think of other things. Like morale.
GEORGIA WEST takes us right back to those other days, but even so, as soon as she saw we were looking she went and put her tights on.
Spoilsport.
There was a frankly dishy girl in the office that Monday.
It was the new typist, ELENA RICHTER.
All the men were quite fascinated because Elena had long and lovely legs and a brief and eye-catching mini-dress.
The office was in West Berlin, Elena being a German girl working her way up towards the position of secretary. She's blonde, blue-eyed and dedicated. A girl must have a career until someone terribly handsome and just a little bit rich comes along.
If the new typist in your own office wears a midi and is even more dedicated, that's your hard luck, of course. And office girls like Elena would only take your mind off your work and you'd miss all that promotion.
We like a lovely bird with a sense of humour.
You can get a laugh a minute out of BUNNY GOODRICH, she's an absolute comic, and the things she says make old Gaffer Wallop spill his teeth into his beer. He doesn't mind what happens to his teeth, however, so long as his eyesight remains good.
Come the day when he can't get Bunny into focus when she's riding her bike and showing her lovely legs, then old Gaffer Wallop will be ready to wear glasses. He always said he wouldn't. But he will if it means missing Bunny on her bike or sunning it in her bikini. Bunny measures 37-24-37. No one should miss that.
We don’t know how long ago it was when some knowledgeable American newspaper tycoon coined the phrase, ‘Go West, young man,’ It doesn’t really matter. It’s still the place to go to. As far west as Vancouver, for instance, the girls are gorgeous and apart from the one-track-minded prospectors who never think about anything but nuggets as big as their heads, what greater incentive is there to the young man than glamour?
For instance, meet LISA LINNETTE, Vancouver singer and dancer, lovely to look at and delightful to know.
Let’s face it. If the girls out west really are as gorgeous as Lisa, who wants to go anywhere else? To the young man already there we can only say we hope you know when you're well off.
Sweet and charming MAUREEN PIKE was admiring the vista in her Hertfordshire countryside when a round man with a square camera bumped into her. "So sorry!" he said, but there were no hard feelings on either side and Maureen, in fact, was delighted. She loves being in front of a camera. And at 5' 7' you can see how prettily she filled his lens.
T.V. viewer is TONI KAYE, who dresses informally for looking-in!
We haven’t got a clue what's on, but we share with Toni’s many admirers a feeling that, with Toni around, it can’t be anything that matters.
It turned out to be a short piece taken from Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto, and these two pictures illustrate Toni’s concentration—not on the Concerto, which she switched off, but on the Yogi formula of lying diagonally from corner to corner instead of straight from North to South. What does it achieve? Somewhere the answer’s in the relevant book.
Toni’s a cabaret girl and they’ve got a spotlight which makes every inch of her 36"-22"-35" count!
When PEGGY SMITH of Middlesex was working in France to perfect her French grammar, she helped out as a maid to one family. She got herself a very oo-la-la maid's uniform and the head of the family was utterly delighted with the result.
Not so Madame. She said either the maid would have to go or she would. The master thought about it, then made his decision. Madame, outraged, went home to mother. Mother sent her back. She arrived when Peggy was serving French sauce and looking delicious. Madame compromised and Peggy changed her oo-la-la uniform for a boiler suit, which wasn't half so pretty.
Housewife JO SHRIMPTON was fearfully busy.
There are always chores and they don't half keep a girl on the go. Jo, however, likes to take a mid-morning break. After all, what about that poor housewife who got so fatigued that she was sucked up by the vacuum cleaner?
Jo wasn't having that. So after a break for elevenses she took up a five-minute routine of physical re-orientation. A toning-up exercise. Knees bend and all that brisk stuff.
Looks lovely, she does, when she's at it.
She can cope with the insidious attentions of any vacuum cleaner after that.
Once upon a time there was a lot of yodelling going on around a mountain village in Switzerland, and that wasn't all. Most of the yodellers were trying to impress ERICA REEVES and the rivalry that went on made the mountains echo like one of those films done in sound spectacular, which make you leave halfway through.
Erica left it all behind to live in the quiet of Sussex. She's been here a few years now, works as a secretary in Brighton, and makes an utterly lovely Swiss miss when she's getting in or out of her car.
Sometimes you can hear a yodel or two around the Sussex Downs. Erica has quite a nice voice herself.
