By PAMELA GREEN
I was very privileged to be able to take my photographer, Harrison Marks, behind the scenes and in the dressing room of the Prince of Wales theatre. The glittering show is "Paris by Night". I was allowed to visit my old dressing room from the time when I used to be a showgirl at the Folies myself, and found some old friends there and many nostalgic memories from the past.
Read MoreBlonde and attractive JUDY RODGER - whom long time no see - is so busy as a TV model it’s a long time no see for many others besides us.
We were tickled to catch up with Judy, therefore, on a day out in the park, and managed to grab some cute pictures when she was looking and some even cuter ones when she wasn’t.
Too caught up with TV to have any spare time for modelling, Judy did us quite a favour by letting us photograph her in the park, and not only are we pleased to have met up with her again but so now, we imagine, are quite a few of her many fans.
Beautiful Britons No 70 - August 1961
That was all the man from the gas company could say when he called on WANDA LIDDELL in her Camden Town flat. "Listen, gorgeous." Then he'd lose his voice because of breathing heavy, then he'd start again.
Wanda told him to stop larking about and to look at her cooker, and he thought, great hairpins, who wants to look at cookers anymore? He rang up his office, resigned and sent Wanda flowers. But it didn't make up for her cooker still being kaput.
Beautiful Britons No 240 - July 1975
Pretty teenager from Co. Durham, PAMELA BEESTON not only looks good with a guitar but sounds terrific. Does this mean she can play it ? What else? And, anyway, isn’t she cute enough to be given the benefit of the doubt in the case of any uncertainty?
if it’s a question of rhythm, it’s there. Well the guitar has a curve and so has Pamela, and if that isn't rhythm, what is?
Pamela is one of our natural beautiful Britons—the charm is there, the shape is there and we also like the hair-do. Someone is bound to ask if she can also cook and the answer to that is in the affirmative.
Actually, nobody told us Pamela was good in a kitchen. We guessed she was because she looks good anywhere, and any pretty girl who can handle a guitar can, you bet, also handle a frying-pan. Any other comments?
Beautiful Britons No 70 - August 1961
Being a student, as most people know, has a number of advantages. Look at Claire Hart for example (and who wouldn't want to in any case!). She manages to go to France every summer, live there for two months, and it costs no more than if she stayed at home in England. She stays with a French family, who have a daughter who exchanges with Claire and lives with her family in England for the same two months every year.
"It's a marvellous way of doing things,' says Claire. "The food's wonderful, I'm accepted as one of the family, and I improve my French without having to study at all. They have a big estate, some of it given over to vineyards, and I help out some of the time with the lighter work. If get bored with that, there's a good social life in the town a few kilometres away. And if I want to go off for a couple of days on my own, there's nothing to stop me.
She told us she isn't really bothered about what she'll do when she leaves university. She'll have a good education and she'll be able to pick and choose. But nothing too restrictive or dull; routine jobs aren't for a girl like her. "Maybe I'll try translation work, as a freelance. That'd be a good start. could find my way into films, something like that . . .'
Students these days tend to be unhappy with the world they live in, and protest about it. But Claire has the answer, and it doesn't involve any demonstrations or sit-ins. If she's happy with the way she's living, it's because she's the sort of girl who doesn't take things sitting down; she gets up, goes out and changes her life so it suits her the way she wants it. Whether she goes into films or anything else, we're sure she's the kind who'll go far.
Mustang No 3 - 1967
Dreams can be confusing, especially if you've gone to bed on a hot supper of toasted cheese and sauerkraut.
Little men looking like hungry demons from outer space chase you through steamy woods to the edges of fearsome gorges. You do a swallow dive and in slow motion execute a graceful descent to the angry torrential waters below. The waters close over you, embracing you like cold cocoa, and it all gets more and more confusing as you find yourself sitting on a rock sharing a bar of milk chocolate with a freshwater mermaid.
Dreams can also be dizzy. You don't need to have eaten anything, or even have gone to bed. Dizzy dreams can overtake you in the street.
Ones like DEBBIE WINTERS are particularly pulverising. You're transported into a world where you're a Greek hero and she's a fair maiden with classical statistics actually 37"-23" 36" and she's standing by with bated breath as you fight heroic battles with one-eyed Gorgons on her behalf.
When you come to your dizzy dream has gone into the chemist's shop to buy some toothpaste. Debbie likes minty toothpaste. What do you like? Don't answer that.
Spick No 179 - October 1968
A few years ago, we met the most beautiful cashier we'd ever seen. All the other cashiers we'd met before her wore moustaches or blue suits, and looked at us over the tops of their glasses.
Many readers will remember her RUTH CAVENDISH of Glasgow, one of the more memorable of many memorable Scots.
How enchanted those readers will be to see that Ruth is still in great shape. She's a bonnier pin-up than ever. That's what comes of refusing to look like Twiggy. Ruth reckons that once a girl's grown curves, she's meant to keep them. Men get awfully grumpy if she gets as flat as a board.
Ruth has a smile as enchanting as her shape. Statistics plus vivacity make the most photogenic combination you could wish for. Remember, girls, that once you reduce yourselves to the shape of bean poles you go all glum and gloomy.
You don't really want to go around looking like that, do you?
Be like Ruth. Stay in great shape.
Spick and Span Extra No 35 - Summer 1970
You're looking at the picture of a lonely girl. Lonely, you exclaim, a girl as charming and lovely as her, lonely? It doesn't make sense. It didn't make sense to us, either, until she told us the whole story.
Numerology (the magic of numbers) used not to mean anything to Carol Marsden. Until the beginning of this year, she went to see a fortune teller. "He told me Six has always been my unlucky number," she explains, "it's the number of loneliness and solitude. Well, you try adding up the four figures in '1968' and you get 24. Add the two to the four and you get . . . that's right . . . six! That's why this just isn't my year.
And it's true
It seems that since January it's been a long story of waiting for men who never turned up, people who were going to phone but somehow lost her number, others who made dates but forgot them ... even the milkman started forgetting to call! "Next year will be all right," she says. "1969 adds up to seven a lucky number for me ...
So, when we tell you Carol's lonely, you now know why. But maybe her luck's going to change. We have a feeling we're not fortune tellers, but maybe if some of the people who've let her down and forgotten to phone her read this, and see her picture . It could jog their memories. And Carol wouldn't stay lonely after all.
Mustang No 2 - 1968
If we say that looking at these simply fabulous pictures of Amanda Paget gives us nightmares, please don't get us wrong. Do you ever have the kind of horrible dream where you're out in the street somewhere, and suddenly realise you're in pyjamas? Or half naked? Or even completely stark naked?! Mustang's resident psychologist assures us such dreams are common, but when we asked him what they meant he just gave a sly chuckle but to get back to the subject, namely Amanda, it strikes us that she's posing there in what can only be the top half of a trouser suit. Standing in the street, half naked, looking debonaire, unconcerned and adorable. Where does she get her nerve? Where did she lose her trousers? It's more than enough to give you nightmares.
When we asked her about the trousers, she tried to pretend that what she's wearing is a micro-micro mini-dress, and not a trouser suit top at all. But she can't fool us. Maybe she was out late and had no money, had to sell something to get the bus fare home. But no, that's absurd, a girl like Amanda wouldn't travel by bus, she would have rich young men escorting her, with large comfy cars. So perhaps she fell in a lake, had to take her trousers off to dry them? Maybe-but no, there's no sign of even any wet trousers. Well, if there were alligators in the lake, she could have thrown the trousers to the alligators, to distract their attention while she swam for shore. Oh, but that's ridiculous-even a lowly alligator would need more than an old bit of cloth to take his mind off such a tasty dish as Amanda. We found out, later. It was simpler than we'd imagined. Amanda was posing in only half her trouser suit because our photographer thought it looked better that way. To which we say, why aren't there more lovely girls around who share our photographer's ideas!
Mustang No 9 - 1969
Ah, your Highness, to whom do I have the honour of looking at ?
To whom do you have the honour of what at, you uneducated villain?
What do you mean, you scurvy knave of ungrammatical idiocy?
say, you're in a bit of a royal tantrum today, aren't you. O Queen of all the Mountains? I was only asking, like.
You've got a sauce. Coming up to me as if you had blue blood instead of something like whitewash. Get ye hence or come dawn and ye shall dangle from my yardarm.
Now now, O Magnificence, you're not in your purple barge, you know.
No, come on, stop all this royal fiddle-faddling and tell me who that utterly delightful dolly is sitting on the fence in your royal park.
Oh, smitten, are you? You've got a hope, you miserable peasant. That, O Per rival of small account, is a student princess. That is to say, you imitation dogsbody, she is a college student in Coventry, England, who is a princess among all students, and unless you keep your big, horrible eyes off her I'll have you scuppered.
Oh, really? How exquisite. What's her name?
Her name, O Insignificance, is KELLY RAND. Well, give her my card, will you? Tell her fit crowns.
Spick No 176 - July 1968
