Selection of models all taken from Janus Volume 1 No 10 - 1972.
We can all spot Dawn Grayson in the bath referred to here as Janet, but can you spot and name any others.
Janus Volume 1 No 10 - Janus Publications 1972
Looking every inch, a potential centre-forward for Leeds is ODETTE NUTTER, who lives near Kippax in Yorkshire.
But it could be she's just given the order of the boot to some geezer she caught bending. Poor old devil.
Odette is a golden blonde with lovely legs and a nice line in suede boots, and if Yorkshire blokes keep their eyes open often enough, they might spot her one day.
Well, Odette doesn't keep herself shut away, you know.
Some husbands go off to football matches on Saturday afternoons, but Val's husband stays home to photo-graph her. What a way to make Saturday afternoons full of light and joy. Better than all that mud flying about and somebody bashing you over the head on the way out.
Some husbands have the oddest hobbies, like stripping wallpaper or collecting whizzbangs. (Whizzbangs are fiery blondes whom they hide in the garden shed hoping their wives won't notice).
Well, now, isn't it lovely that VALERIE HOOTON has a husband with the most ravishing hobby? His hobby is Valerie. What a smashing feller. What a hubby, what a hobby.
Val's ambitions, apart from maintaining her position as hubby's hobby, are to travel extensively and to learn to ski. Imagine all that lovely snow and sun, and Val as well.
Val has a hobby of her own. Frank Sinatra. Only on records, of course. And she likes eating out. That's not a hobby, however, that's a way of life.
Housewives have stopped being mere wielders of brooms. Now they're sexy and glamorous, like Val. Before she was married Val used to be a secretary. Now she's a housewife, a mother and an absolute doll. Naturally, you'd all like to have a hobby just like Val, but you need to be tall, dark and handsome, of course.
There are various ways of being called to the bar. If you’re a prospective barrister, dead keen to do all you can to facilitate the functioning of the law, all you need do is pass an exam that would fill the ordinary citizen with a sickening sense of his ineptitude in such matters.
The way most of us like is in the nature of an invitation.
“Come on, Bert, over here—where you been? I’ve had six since I arrived and I can’t do me belt up.”
When DIANE KING received her call to the bar it was at a cocktail party, where the sumptuous decor included a corner bar and a high stool for a long-legged lady.
“That’s for me,” said Diane.
“And very nice you look too,” said the mini-skirt enthusiast.
“No, not the stool,” said Diane, ‘‘the bottle of red Cinzano. With soda water, please.”
Since it won’t be too long before Europe will be discarding the bikini in favour of warmer wear, EVA BARTOK, the Hungarian actress, is trying out leather fashions in West Berlin.
Eva, always in the front of what’s new in fashion, is quite aware of the fact that all those vast herds of steer don’t wear their hides for nothing. They sure keep the cold out.
But that isn’t to say you can’t turn a hide into something that will make a woman snug and warm and gorgeous.
And it certainly gives her a shine.
