There's still a future for stockings. Stretch tights haven't yet completely ousted them, as CLARE LONDON shows. The manufacturers are jazzing them up something smashing, says Clare.
Clare is from Middlesex, is married and is also wedded to her mini-skirts. Who wants jazzed-up stockings hidden by a maxi?
Beautiful Britons No 184 - March 1971
Scan from original print
It's been a series of demoralising misses, said Jack Boggletonk. To start with, as soon as I was ten, I knew there was something about girls that my parents hadn't told me about. Kind of hypnotic, they were, and the way they went tweet-tweet after Sunday School fascinated me.
I was dead gone on one called Rosie. But by the time I plucked up enough courage to ask her to my birthday party, she'd changed her religion.
Then when I was fifteen, I was mad on a cracking little blonde called Marie. Just as I was about to treat her to a seat in the cinema, up came a feller twice my size and she went home to tea with him.
And then take this stunning brunette you're looking at now. ANNETTE RIDGEWAY. Marvellous. Lovely figure, gorgeous legs and the nicest disposition. I saw her picture in a paper and after thinking about her for a month and not hardly having any sleep, I wrote her the most romantic letter I could think of.
The post office returned it, saying Miss Ridgeway had just gone to the South of France on her honeymoon, and that she was now a Mrs. Some fellers have all the luck, marrying girls like that. I don't have any luck at all.
I keep missing.
Beautiful Britons No 169 - December 1969
They sent BRITT HAMPSHIRE down to the cellar to find a bottle of red Cinzano and she was such a long time coming up that they sent a large St. Bernard dog down to look for her and carry her up the stairs again. But Britt had found a quite lovely man in the cellar and was absorbed in a fascinating political conversation with him. And the St. Bernard found a bottle of cognac and settled down to get high.
And that was that.
There was all this flowery fauna and flora around, but there still wasn't enough to conceal CLEO SIMMONS when the fox hunters came galloping by just at the moment when Cleo was going to sunbathe. She could have dived for cover into the ferns, but that would have been too ticklish, so there she was, and all the masculine riders were yelling "Tally-Ho, Cleo!" and all the feminine ones were yelling "No, this way, you fools." It was the afternoon the fox got away and the masculine huntsmen all got beaten over the bonce by the feminine ones.
Ever since we set eyes on these pictures of lovely Sue Simpson, we've been worried by a terrible problem. It's kept us awake at night, sleepless and tossing and turning, gnawing our knuckles, sitting up in bed reading back issues of RELAX in desperate attempts at sending ourselves to sleep. But it's no good. However long and hard we try; we never arrive at a decision.
At the bus queue in the morning, we mumble quietly to ourselves. People edge shiftily away from us. Well, at least that gets us a seat, even in the rush hour. But the problem remains.
You see, it's like this. The other day we read a book, about reincarnation. Apparently, we don't just have one life on earth, when we die, we're born again as someone else. And it happens over and over again. But there's a snag. (There always is, isn't there?) You see, when you're born again, you may not be born again as a person (so this book says). You might be a frog, a flea, or a woolly necked tapir. Or even a flower. Somehow we don't fancy the idea of being born again as a pansy.
But now perhaps you see the problem. Bearing in mind we might be born again, we've been wondering, wondering, wondering what we'd rather be. Would it be best to be that tree that Sue Simpson is embracing so warmly? Or maybe the grass, where she rests her delightful derriere? Or even-dare we suggest it-those black net stockings that hug her so tightly?
Relax No 17 - Gadoline Publications 1969
There's all this terrible talk about getting housewives out of the kitchen and sending them down the mines. It's going to be catastrophic if when you get home in the evening your gorgeous, better half is just on her way to the night shift. It means the hot stove is all yours.
While there's still time the hubby of Scots girl JOAN RUSSELL is making the most of her kitchen flair. And Joan doesn't really want to go down a mine, anyway. She likes her hot stove. She sings over it.
"And after all," she says, "if it's that hot you don't have to keep your overcoat on, you can just wear something cool and comfy."
How lovely.
Spick and Span Extra No 55 - Summer 1975
Frolics - Maids - Gadoline Publications 1969
Girl with a wizard figure who is building quite a reputation in London’s Chelsea as a witch is dark and delectable Gina.
One thing's for sure: she has a strange power over men. They tell their wives "I'm just popping out for a spell" and rush straight to Gina. But (whisper it) she failed the QT Editor's test. He wanted her to magic up more girls with her measurements. Well, maybe she didn't wand competition!
QT No 91 - 1964
The epitome of feminine perfection today must be that which is brought about by a girl who is a loving housewife, an efficient secretary and absolutely smashing.
Absolutely smashing is CAROLINE SPENCER.
Housewife and secretary, Caroline can even make male hippies quiver at the knees. Male hippies don't normally react to anything or anybody unless it or they look like something that just got pushed over a cliff. We’re not anti-hippy. Don't think that. It's just that when they grow up, they won't have any tender memories, only ones like "When I was young, I lived in bus shelters and got lousy.”
Caroline is our bet for the housewife we'd most like to make a souffle with.
Many a Mrs. like Caroline makes life lovely in the kitchen.
Spick & Span Extra No 35 - Summer 1970
No one really likes having to grow up, and certainly no one wants to grow old, feeling the encroachment of age, stiffening joints and dulled senses, fading beauty. Someone who certainly doesn't need to worry about that is Carol Smart, a girl who just loves feeling young at heart. Her schoolgirl uniform may not fit very well anymore, but it's a first-class way of showing her still-young charms and much more. Lying in the grass on long summer afternoons without anything to worry about in the world, perhaps she reminisces and remembers her schooldays, young and innocent, discovering her way through life Carol likes funfairs, cream buns, country walks and candy floss, visits to the zoo except in London Zoo you're not allowed to feed the animals anymore. Isn't that unfair?"
It doesn't matter if people don't approve, she likes to feel young, and act young, doesn't see why she should have to go through the mannerisms of being mature, when half the time it's all a pretence people use when they're trying to look sophisticated and impress people. Why indeed? For our part, we're more than happy for Carol to laze around in her schoolgirl clothes as long as she likes. Provided she doesn't mind us looking on and sometimes giving a faint, wistful, reminiscent sigh.
Mustang No 4 - 1967
