Carol Hans

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Carolling Along

Going around the Continental countries and touring all over Britain, blonde CAROL HANS just makes for any cameraman's dream, carolling along in leggy style.

Well, she can sing a bit, you know. She sings as she walks. She's been all over everywhere, singing all the way.

She's so easy on the ear and she's magical on the eye. It comes from being a lovely baby and growing up into a lovely girl. There are people who can't find anything right with the world.

They're nutheads.

Joy Harris

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Joy Unrivalled

Winner of beauty contests is JOY HARRIS, and an unrivalled joy to behold in her bikini.

We'd have photographed her in it if she'd had it with her.

What happened to it, then?

Well, it was like this. Joy hung it out to dry and a wind blew up and carried it away, both top and bottom. It landed at the feet of a young man emerging from a chemist's shop with headache pills. He'd had a headache ever since his last disagreement with his girlfriend Rosie. Rosie had used a croquet mallet. He thought the bikini was a gift from the gods and that Rosie would be enchanted with it. But it was an itsy-bitsy bikini and Rosie was by no means an itsy-bitsy girl, and all the time she was in it she kept falling out of it. It was ever so embarrassing.

To stay in it and to look unrivalled, a girl needs the same vitalistics as Joy. 36-23-36.

Kim Foster

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Just The Spot

So, said KIM FOSTER when her bubble car gave out adjacent to a secluded glade, because it could have happened halfway round Piccadilly Circus.

If a beautiful girl like Kim has to take an enforced rest, Piccadilly Circus is just not the place. But this is.

Kim’s a showgirl, and in the showgirl tradition has the longest and shapeliest legs, as well as beautiful blue eyes.

As soon as Kim settled down to get her knees brown, however, the glade suddenly wasn’t so secluded any more. An ice-cream man came up and tried to sell her a lolly, and a guy driving a furniture van stopped to ask her the time.

The seniors and prefects from the nearby college came out early from college and wouldn’t go home to tea. A young man on a bicycle offered her a meat sandwich and an old man on a horse offered her a lift. It’s fun being young and beautiful.

Lili Reuter

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Then The Tide Came In

Everything was lovely and sunny and calm. LILI REUTER was lovely and sunny and calm herself.

Then the tide came in. Fast and sneaky.

Splash.

Talk about wet. Dress, stockings and legs. Lili muttered French words she never realised she knew, especially as she's a Bavarian. Still, it was a French tide somewhere near St. Malo and it made her so wet that Lili sat resignedly down in it. She turned into a lovely young soak, like. Wet all over she was in the end. French blokes ventured near, asking her if she needed a towel, and Lili threw wet sand at them.

Larky it was.

Jacki Owen

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Boots and Minis

They can work themselves into frenzies trying to wrap the dollies in maxi-skirts, but they won’t get any help from us.

Nor from JACKI OWEN, except in the line of duty.

Jacki is a fashion model and all right, maybe she does have to glide down the catwalk all covered up in a maxi, but she hasn’t bought one for herself yet.

Perhaps, says Jacki, it’s all right for the skinny ones who look better with their legs covered up, but I’m not skinny and I think I’ve got rather nice legs, don’t you?

Divine is a better word.

Thank you. Well, then, says Jackie, what would you do?

We’d keep making life a lovely eyeful for our fellow-men.

Oh, go on, says Jackie, I’m not as inspiring as that.

You are to us, you gorgeous thing.

Joy Bamforth

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Go-Go Girl

Okay, so you like your girlfriend to be quiet, dreamy and aesthetic, so that she can earn a mountain of lolly as a professor of philosophy. Then when you get married you can stay at home with your feet up. Sounds just like being dead.

Ever thought about clueing up with a swinger, have you? The difference it can make to your life is staggering. Suddenly you're living, you've got a go-go girl and all is joyful music and cool discotheques.

JOY BAMFORTH of Yorkshire is a go-go girl. At seventeen life never stops, it's a whizz, a caper and a delight. Mini-skirts are made for legs and boots for dancing. A go-go girl like Joy is an inspiration but you'll never keep up with her if you're over thirty.

If you're over thirty you get headaches.

Jane Rennie and Cherie Scott

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Gamesmanship

Gamesmanship, as all you sporty fiends know, is the art of making sure the other feller keeps to the rules while you elasticate them. If you still lose it’s something to do with the fact that you’re a dead loss at games anyway, and it would be advisable to go round the world on a pogo-stick and not get mixed up with sport of any kind.

This is the way gamesmanship was applied when JANE RENNIE, brunette, met CHERIE SCOTT, blonde, in a local version of talkative Hide-and-Seek.

“Oh look, I can’t see.”

“Ah, ma Cherie, you’re not supposed to. You find out where I am by concentrating on the direction of my voice. How do you like my striped shorts?”

“Oh, they’re sweet. I think you’re over there by the dish-washer. What do you think of my Carnaby-street hoopla trousers?”

“Divine. Missed me. Were they terribly expensive?”

“I’ll have to forego seventeen lunches. Look, I wish you wouldn’t keep dodging in and out of the pantry. Am I warm yet?”

“You’ll catch me soon.”

“Oh, excuse me, I seem to be suddenly handicapped.”

“I’m afraid, Cherie dear, that your Carnaby-street hooplas are more of a handicap than a decoration.”

“Did you—?”

“No, honestly, Cherie, they just fell down.”

Susan Douglas

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Where Are The Elements

It doesn't matter all that much where they are, if they aren’t with us now they will be any moment. They've got a habit of not leaving us alone for too long, and since SUSAN DOUGLAS is well aware of this, she’s gotten herself self well equipped to cope with them.

Apropos the wind and the rain, of course. Susan is just the girl we wouldn’t mind being cast adrift with in a boat to the fair isles of sunshine and coconuts and nobody else.

Joyce Matlock

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Time To Spare

Housewives don't have much time to spare, especially those who, like JOYCE MATLOCK, hold down an office job as well.

But if you're as efficient as Joyce, there's always time to spare, time to wander around the Worcestershire countryside and take in all the relaxing quiet of undisturbed rurality.

And time, too, to pose for her photographer, who's never too busy himself to miss capturing her image for posterity.

Joyce is twenty-four, loves dancing and thinks we could do away with national crises if we sent all the politicians on package tours.

On some package tours these days it's difficult to get back.

Marie Auge

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Rest Assured

You probably think as you take a shuftie at MARIE AUGE that she doesn't really look as corking as this. You probably think she’s been specially dolled-up to give the cameraman lovely hallucinations.

You may rest assured that Marie really is as luscious as she looks, and she has by no means been specially dolled-up in order to project a sex appeal she doesn’t normally possess.

On the contrary. She is a real Parisian whizzbang of a girl, who raises hoarse cries of “Mother, I want to leave home,” from all kinds of maternally-afflicted bachelors whenever she passes by.

Marie is studying Oriental languages in Paris and helping to pay for her studies by modelling and doing other well-paid jobs in her spare time. Other well-paid jobs include writing letters home to China for Chinese exiles who can hardly write at all.

An incidental fact is that men irreconcilably smitten by Marie feel as if they’ve galloped into a brick wall. It really does hurt as much as that.

Marilyn Ward

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See the Manageress

If you like shopping with your girlfriend, particularly when she’s after a bargain in a boutique, you can get very good service in the boutique run by MARILYN WARD.

Ask for the manageress and Marilyn will appear. You’ll be so captivated that five minutes later your girlfriend will slosh you and say, “In case you’ve forgotten, Romeo, you’re with me.”

Susan Whiddon

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Plymouth Is The Place

Plymouth is where SUSAN WHIDDON resides, so Plymouth is the place for any feller who wants to play the part of a devoted fan and pop flowers into her letterbox once a week.

Susan and her hubby came down from the North to live in Plymouth, and the place perked up no end when she arrived. It’s a fair and attractive city in any case. It's even better looking now.

Susan likes reading, dancing and sunning herself in her bikini. Her husband likes Susan. What a sound and sensible feller.

Toni Searle

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The Difference is a Fine One

It's a very fine difference, indeed, between one fashion and another. In floating skirt and frills, TONI SEARLE deliciously illustrates how fine is yesterday's fashion.

Looking extremely summery, Toni matched the colourful environment of the countryside near her home in Kent. If Kent is the garden of England, Toni is one of its more enchanting blooms.

Weekdays she's a typist. Weekends she's a dream.

Kim Scott

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Flying Tonight ?

Joe Binglewood is so lucky he ought to be prohibited. He was coming out of the shop eating his fish and chips when he stepped on the foot of a tall picturesque dolly who was in the ravishing category.

Which is to say she was all long legs and curves. Joe was full of chips and it took him six swallows before he could start apologising.

"It's quite all right," said KIM SCOTT, "it's only my foot and I'm sure the numbness will have gone by next week"

Joe had never trodden on the foot of such a lovely bird as Kim, which just shows how lucky he really is. Kim is an air stewardess with the most vibrant personality. It sort of makes you quiver, unless you go in for bicycles and your mother won't let you meet girls. In which case the pleasure of flying tonight with a girl like Kim and having her top up your coffee cup, is something you ought to talk seriously about to your mum.

Kim is our idea of how to fly from London to Pompala in transported fragility. The more you see of her the weaker you get.

Where's Pompala, by the way?

Who cares?

Christine Porter

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Late Date

Ravishing dolly CHRISTINE PORTER thought it was never going to happen, the date with her boyfriend. He hadn't rung or sent a note or anything. Then a boy on a bike arrived and said Handsome asked could she make the Knights' Castle at ten o'clock. The Knights' Castle is ah Arthurian disco.

"Ten o'clock? That's late," said Christine.

"Yes, well, he went down a pothole," said the boy, "and took a long time coming up."

"I'll kill him," said Christine, and spent an hour at her dressing table making herself look absolutely beautiful. That's enough to slay any feller, especially one on a late date.