Caroline Spencer

They’re So Natural and Uninhibited

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.

Jane Mercer

They Make Passes Now!

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".

Barbara Martin

Someone’s Wonder Girl

Not just a pretty face is BARBARA MARTIN from Pudsey in Yorkshire. She's married to a feller who calls her his wonder girl.

In addition to keeping the house lovely to come home to, Barbara is a fine cook, an advertising and fashion model, a Yoga enthusiast and a dab hand at painting.

And if that's not enough she has a curvy figure measuring 37-24-36 and can fill a bikini perfectly.

Cherry Lennox

Student in a Cold Climate

It wasn't half rough. The wind was whistling and cutting little old ladies in half, practically.

Student CHERRY LENNOX of Edinburgh was caught in the teeth of it, as it were. Och, what a wee howling gale. Took her kilt right off. In the nick of time, as it were, she found shelter in an old Scottish roundhouse, whatever that is. Probably similar to a Kentish hophouse.

Anyway, it served to keep the worst of the chilly breezes at bay for Cherry. And while she was able to hold on to her Scottish rainproof she felt she could endure all else, as it were. Even the loss of her kilt.

Whipped off by a quirk of the whistling wind, it was, and went sailing over heather and burn, it did. Never mind, there's always a silver lining. It just showed how perfectly intriguing Cherry's patterned stockings were.

On a day when whistling wind equals student sans kilt in a cold climate, things aren't wholly miserable. And if Cherry can laugh about it, so can you.

Vicky Ashley

Making a Move

It wasn’t our idea to get up and go. We were in one of those groovy night clubs full of sensationally-clad birds accompanied by all that’s brightest in the way of fashionable male escortage.

Fashionable male escortage—as far as London is concerned—is something made up of the grooviest young men circulating the scene. The scene, of course, is any place in town where these breath-taking birds and their laughing boys congregate.

We were right in the throes of an incurable infatuation for a girl called VICKY ASHLEY, who was having a dizzier effect on our eyes than the revolving light. Was she gorgeous or was she not? She was. We asked a waiter to take her our card.

“Hold it, priceless,” he growled, “do I look like a waiter in me Spanish shawl and me string beads? Like me toreador boot in yer eye, would yer?”

We made a jolly little riposte to show him all we wanted was to drink wine with Miss Ashley, at which he called over a couple of laughing boys. We had to make a move. We didn’t realise people could take such quick offence.

As we left. Miss Ashley was looking lovelier than ever, and no wonder—she’s the newest and most photogenic model in town.