We’re so confused by JENNY PRICE, whose enchantment flows lyrically over us, that we can’t follow the lines of her car. Jenny, who has just about the nicest legs in Wales, can confuse the most clear-minded car fanatic.
We were just stepping off the kerb when German actress ANTONIE MERLY flipped her car door open and put out one shapely leg. Jupiter, don’t car doors hurt when you walk into them!
22-year-old ADRIENNE HOUSTON is a beautician and fills the first requisite of her job by being beautiful herself. If you feel your girlfriend isn’t making the most of her charm, send her along to Adrienne and she will emerge from the salon so ravishing that you’ll think she’s really much too good for you. Then where do you go from there?
Adrienne’s own charm lies not in her countenance alone, for she has beautiful legs and a trim figure that measures 35-22-35.
A very curvaceous secretary is KITTY ARMSTRONG of Oxford, and if you think she gets whistled at by the students on her way to work each day, then you think dead right.
Knowing her name, some of them call, "Kitty, Kitty," and make purring noises. Kitty doesn't mind that. As long as they don't spring, she says, they can purr all they like. She's delightfully vivacious and oh what a shape. It adds up to 38-24-37, and every inch goes so well with her height of five feet seven.
No wonder the students purr.
And having seen Kitty for ourselves we had to tell her we thought one of them is bound to spring eventually. Then what?
"Oh, I scratch him to pieces and bite his head off," said Kitty, "because when I get sprang at I'm a proper little tigress."
When shop assistant KATHRYN JENKINS takes a day off she likes to get away from the noise and the bustle of her work. The customers love Kathryn, of course, especially the young men who, even if they don’t want to buy anything, pop in to ask her the time.
In the peace and quiet of the countryside around her home town, Coventry, Kathryn can listen to nothing noisier than the swish of the sickle and the buzz of the bees. The occasional farmer’s boy might come along and say “Well, Oi’ll be struck dumb,” but so might anyone spotting Kathryn with her lovely legs and her figure of 38-22-36.
Girl going shopping in her short short skirt is SANDRA McPHERSON, the pride of Bonny Scotland.
If you trip up on the way down, you can't say it was because your feet got tangled up in the skirt!
Be like Sandra. Having regained controlled equilibrium, look as if you regard the whole thing with nonchalant indifference.
You will then arrive at the door looking like a well-dressed futuristic shopper of 19??
Still studying hard at college is Yorkshire girl JULIA WENDON, and she's after a degree in medicine.
In between putting her nose to the academic grindstone of medicine, Julia engages in all the pursuits that keep a girl fit, like tennis, netball and squash — Squash?
Not your kind of squash, Harold. And then she also goes in for pursuits that keep a girl happy, like beauty competitions and dancing and glamour modelling.
Tell her that keeps me happy too.
Push off to Hastings, Harold, and get yourself one in the eye.
Irish model JILL SUMMERS has a lovely negligee and a beautiful perm, but currently she’s concentrating on the effect of her new black nylons. Jill thinks they make quite a contrast to her white frills—but how do they look to you? No postcards, please—just whistles.
On another day JILL MILLWARD was a showgirl. The footlights shone in her eyes every night and struck glitter into her beads and bangles. Clink went the bangles and pop went the beads. “Oh blow,” Jill would murmur, “there goes another one, they don’t sew them on like they used to.”
Then overnight Jill gave it all up. She put away her beads and bangles, her ostrich feathers and her ambition to play the lead in a fabulous musical. She became a children’s nurse.
But she still looks lovely and glam when she’s off duty.
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.
