Deborah Stuart, Liz McEwen and Susan Fairfax

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How's The Weather?

There were three lovely girls, a lot of damp clouds and only one umbrella. The weather not being heavenly, the girl with the quickest snatch grabbed the brolly. That was DEBORA STEWART, and though the brolly may look a bit mundane you can't say Debbie does. Debbie is the girl we'd most like to explore the Amazon with, as it rains a lot there and Debbie can paddle a canoe and make it all look a gorgeous giggle.

Debbie’s two friends are LIZ MCEWEN and SUSAN FAIRFAX. While Debbie kept the brolly all to herself, Liz and Susan just had to wait for the rain to stop. Girls waiting for the rain to stop can look demurely anxious, especially if they've just emerged from the hairdressers, but Liz and Susan manage to look as if it isn't raining at all. And actually, it isn't.

It's all a lot of hocus-pocus about the weather just to give us a chance to intersperse some flowery chat about the girls. Flowery chat comes easily when it's all about mini-skirted charmers like these.

Span No 156 - August 1967

Lynda Farrell and Liz McEwen

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Well Netted

It wasn't until LYNDA FARRELL and LIZ McEWEN got down to the task of adjusting their outdoor badminton net that they realised the relative simplicity of adjustment could become a complicated entanglement.

Liz couldn't believe that Lynda could be so fiendish, and Lynda couldn't believe that Liz could get so impossibly wrapped up in the thing. Liz is the one in the patterned mini-dress and Lynda is the one with straps on her shoes.

Spick No 167 - October 1967

Liz McEwen and Debora Stewart

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Friends

Great friends are blonde LIZ McEWEN and brunette DEBORA STEWART" so when it came to fixing up a game of badminton in the garden it was only natural for them to go through with it in the friendliest way possible.

It's all a laugh to Liz and Debbie. It might have been a matter of grim, purposeful intent to two other girls whose only thought would have been to get on with the game and slaughter each other.

But Liz and Debbie play the game for the giggles and don't even bother to keep the score. Why don't they bother to keep the score?

“We can’t count," said Debbie.

Beautiful Britons No 143 - October 1967

Liz McEwen

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Dizzy Pop

Girl who packs ninety minutes of dizzy pop into every hour is cute LIZ McEWEN. If you want to keep up with Liz of the lovely legs you need a pair of souped-up rollerskates.

A week of skating in her wake and then you need a month’s holiday to take the pins and needles out of your feet, leaving Liz to dance gaily on in dizzy, photogenic irresistibility.

It's lovely when you’re young and beautiful.

But it isn’t half paralysing when you're ninety.

Lynda Farrell, Debora Stewart, Susan Fairfax, Dawn Warwick and Liz McEwen

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From You To Us

It’s quite exhilarating this month to introduce an undeniable bevy of pin-up girls, whose photographs are so sweet we haven’t had to take any sugar in our coffee for a week. (It doesn’t half taste funny but somehow we don’t care). The girls are as follows:

LYNDA FARRELL, girl we’d like to row the Atlantic with.

DEBORA STEWART, girl we’d like to explore the Amazon with.

SUSAN FAIRFAX, girl to whom we'd give half our etchings.

DAWN WARWICK and LIZ McEWEN, whom we’ll probably dream about.

Liz McEwen and Jennie McEwen

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How To Like Your Sister

Well, as LIZ McEWEN was telling her friend Lynda on the phone, it’s easy if your sister doesn’t mind you borrowing her record player and doesn’t yell her head off if she finds you’ve also borrowed her best nylons when you go out on a special date. And, as JENNIE McEWEN said, it’s no problem at all to become very fond of Liz and she would if only Liz didn’t hog the telephone all the time and wasn’t always leaving things like horse saddles around. “I’m fed up with tripping over them and falling flat on my face,” said Jennie.

Well, as Liz said, what’s a lovely elder sister for if not to tidy the place up occasionally ?

Liz McEwen

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Parley – Vous Francais?

Oui !

Girl with the engaging smile and a natural flair for looking lovely in white lingerie is LIZ McEWEN.

Liz spent a holiday in France this year. She went with some girlfriends. Naturally, they all wanted to test their French. Liz saw the most ravishing gendarme, lean, long, shatteringly Gallic and absolutely dishy. “When the traffic stops,” she said, “I’ll pop over to him and ask him the way to the Eiffel Tower.” “But we're not going to the Eiffel Tower,” said Shirley,” we went there yesterday.” You can't do anything with a girl as unimaginative as Shirley, so Liz just gave her a look and popped over to ask her dishy gendarme the way to the Eiffel Tower. As soon as the gendarme saw her coming he blew his whistle and all the traffic went into reverse. He bowed when Liz arrived and Liz, in her best French, which is not at all bad, popped the question apropos the location of the Eiffel Tower.

She returned to her friends dreamy-eyed and in an ecstatic tizzy, as they say in all the modern novels. “Well?” said Shirley. “He said it was twenty minutes after eleven,” said Liz tenderly. “Some answer,” said a girl called Daffodil, “he couldn't have understood your French.”

“His name is Maurice,” said Liz,” and when he comes to England he's going to bring me one of those big bunches of onions.”