Ann Carol Keyes

They Don't Make Them Like This in Tonka

Where's Tonka?

Oh, somewhere in the heart of undiscovered waters a thousand miles from the Great Barrier Reef. Nothing to do with Tonga, just a place on its own. They don't make anything there except coconut-fibre sarongs, and they aren't half itchy.

And they certainly don't make mini-skirted dollies like ANN CAROL KEYES. Ann is so photogenic, what with her dishy suspenders and all, that masculine eyeballs get sort of struck rigid. Mint-flavoured custard is the only cure. Tastes awful but what other antidote is there?

Ann, a young and healthy picture of glamour, has no impossible ambitions. She's just looking forward to having a husband, home and babies in time. Lovely.

Stephanie Peters

Milling Around

In the stockroom of a Manchester cotton mill the girl in charge was STEPHANIE PETERS, and blokes kept coming in to ask her to check what was in the upper bays so that they could see what she looked like in her mini on a ladder.

Such blokes were always milling around in the stockroom and Stevie, as they call her, always seemed to be up the ladder.

So, she thought she'd leave her job and get one in London. Going up and down that ladder was killing her. In London she met some photographers and became a model. Now they're all milling around her in the big city.

Who are?

A bevy of blokes with a long ladder.

Kim Scott

Flying Swinger

Air stewardess KIM SCOTT is what you call a flying swinger. She's up, up and away week after week from London Airport, and all her passengers consider her the most swinging stewardess they ever clapped their international eyes on.

Kim lives in Middlesex and in between her flights comes down to earth to enjoy the peace and quiet of life.

She says that's what a girl needs to do after flying all over the place, otherwise you can fall apart.

Kim with her long legs is still a devotee of the mini and if you can think of anything which would make her look lovelier when she's out shopping for antiques, keep it to yourself. It's bound to be something she couldn't wear without collecting a crowd.

Brigitte Jelinek

Invite Us Over

We have our moments when it's not all light and joy, you know. We too have to clean the car and fill up cracks in the ceiling. We too are sitting on the bomb. Ah, poor old people of the seventies, wondering if they'll live to be ninety.

At such moments, we think about the scintillating conversational gambits of BRIGITTE JELINEK, who has the most entertaining way of starting a really cracking argument about the lost tribes of Asia. We never knew any of them ever got lost.

Anyway, in moments of gloom Brigitte couldn't do more for us than invite us over so that we could become intensely involved in a discussion on who actually shot the arrow which laid poor old Harold low at Hastings.

There's nothing so enlivening as a fluent chat with someone as delightful as Miss Jelinek.

Laura St.John

Three-Way Chat

Housewife LAURA ST. JOHN was on the phone ordering some groceries when some burk managed to cross the line and Laura found herself talking to the grocer and the burk at the same time.

The burk was trying to sell insurance and Laura ended up with a pound of bacon and a dozen eggs covered against dying of heart failure while in the frying-pan.

The premium was a tin of mustard a month.

Joanne Martin

How To Be Vitally Interesting

It's fun being married. JOANNE MARTIN says you needn't take too much notice of those odd people who tell you it's kaput, she says they don't know what it's all about, they're too busy going in and out of foggy hallucinations.

To be vitally interesting to your husband, says Joanne, you need first of all to look lovely to come home to, so that when he comes into the kitchen to see what's cooking he can't help thinking he'd like to eat you yourself.

Joanne, with her long, honey-blonde hair and her undeniable curves, is indeed a dish. She makes marriage lots and lots of fun, and sometimes in the evenings the television isn't an absolute social necessity at all.

Remember, says Joanne, that when hubby says, "Let's switch this rubbish off and play poker," you've proved you know how to be vitally interesting.

Then what?

"Then you need good cards, "says Joanne, "or you're in for a yell of a time "

Sandra Morrell

It Used To Be Boots and Saddles

In the days when the West was won, it used to be boots and saddles and the sound of the bugles as the U.S. Cavalry came charging up to save the pioneers from being skewered to their waggon wheels by flaming arrows of fire or something.

That's all gone now. The pioneers have all struck oil and the Red Indians are doing their own thing, which is watching Geronimo on the telly.

Today for boots and saddles you can read boots and minis.

SANDRA MORRELL, winner of beauty contests, is all for boots and minis.

We're all for Sandra, she can look scintillating just lounging about.

Helene Gibbs

The Lolly is Lovely

HELENE GIBBS, arrived in London some several months ago. She didn't expect to make her fortune overnight, but did hope she'd be able to earn enough lolly to pay the rent of her little flat in Camden Town and keep her in food and clothing.

A dancer, Helene thought London's theatres and night clubs wouldn't actually be short of scintillating exponents of this art, and it was with surprise and delight that she found her talents accepted.

Now she's dancing nightly in cabaret. The lolly is lovely, so are the audiences.

At five feet six, with measurements of 37-24-36, Helene is lovely too, especially when photographed in the environs of leafy Hampstead.

Helen Jones

Music Lover

One of the leading lights of London at the moment is HELEN JONES. She's a genuine swinger. Wherever there's something going on that's at all worthwhile, you can bet your psychedelic pink shirt that Helen will be conspicuously ravishing.

She's a model with a big London agency and appeared in the film 'Love Variations'. That was a genuine swinger too.

Helen is twenty-one, lives in North London and is a music lover. She adores both classical and underground music.

Underground? You mean on a tube train?

"Great tombstones," said Helen "how long have you been dead?"

That, of course, proves that if you don't speak the language of the swingers you might as well spend your time in museums.

Ah well, you can always sort out a nice, sympathetic mummy to talk to.

Cathy Meadows

Never Mind Who Wears the Trousers

There's a lot of it about. A lot of talk about the full emancipation of women and how it's their turn to wear the trousers for the next ten thousand years.

But never mind who wears the trousers, the fact is CATHY MEADOWS wears a lovely pair of boots. She could kick a lot of fellers around in these but wouldn't dream of it. She's deliciously feminine, as a matter of fact, and doesn't think trousers and braces would suit her.

Cathy is a Yorkshire girl, and has just left college to work in an office and study her prospects. In her spare time, she's taking a modelling course. There's always room for one more model as good-looking as Cathy.

Gail Johnson

Gail Warning

The farmer's boy came whistling over the fields. He was carrying a haystack. He was a strong lad. Then he saw GAIL JOHNSON, an absolutely ravishing, blue-eyed blonde.

Gail thought she was all alone. She did wonder why a distant haystack looked as if it was moving about, but not being an agriculturalist she put it out of her mind.

It was a hot day and just right for gambolling about in undies. Then the haystack stopped moving and a face came out from under it. The face of the farmer's boy. Gail gave him one warning.

"Don't you dare look or I'll fire six rounds into you."

The farmer's boy couldn't help looking. Corks, what a peach, he thought. So, Gail fired six rounds. They thudded into the haystack. The farmer's boy was ever so relieved, any one of those rounds might have injured his appetite and he was looking forward to pork pie for supper.

"Missed me," he said.

Gail reloaded.

The farmer's boy knew when he was well off. He picked up the haystack and ran. He tripped over a furrow and the haystack fell on him.

"Serve him right," said Gail, "shouldn't have such goggle eyes."

Valerie Hooton

Hubbies Hobby

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.

Jenny Piper

A Mini is a Mini

Young Hampshire housewife JENNY PIPER lives in a fascinatingly rural village, where a stream chuckles its way around the cottages.

But Jenny is quite with it as far as eye-catching gear is concerned. With her long legs, Jenny fits into a mini as if the fashion was made just for her. Bewitchingly, she believes a mini is a mini and you can't compromise.

This is Jenny in her mini that's a mini.

Hence the expression, "Ah, knickers."

"Well, yes, I know they show," said Jenny, "but you don't have to look if you don't want to."

She's joking, of course.

Bridget McKenna

Dublin Dolly

Irish from top to toe is BRIDGET McKENNA. Bridget is from Dublin, and there aren't any dollies more Irish than those from that city.

However, there's a great big world always waiting to put out the carpet for green-eyed Irish shapes, so for the time being Bridget is taking a look at London.

London is taking a look at her in return. It's a fair exchange, except that a lot of old buildings and bridges can't always be equated with a curvy Irish shape of 37-24-36. But Bridget is settling for that.

Judy Russell

Dolly Girl 

Fashions aren't going to make any difference. The 1970's are still going to be remembered for the impact made on life by the dolly girls. The reason for this, Hutchinson, is that by 1951 girls had awakened to the realisation that the bikini had masterminded them into superiority.

After the advent of the bikini, boys no longer wanted to grow up and be engine- drivers. They just wanted to grow up so that they could have a bikini girl all their own. From the bikini girl there graduated the dolly girl who dominated the 1960 s. And she came to stay.

We know a gorgeous one called JUDY RUSSELL, who lives in London and is going to remain brilliantly im- pactive whether she's in a mini or a midi. We're not too sure ourselves. If all that lovely dolly girl disappears under a heap of clothes that reach to her calves, where's the impact?

"It's in the way we'll keep you guessing," said Judy, a short hand- typist in the City of London.