At this time of the year it's lovely in the park.
It's even better than that when STEPHANIE ST. LAURENT is around. After all, however sweet the daisies are, however green the grass, what can add more ornamental adornment to the scene than one of nature's mini-dad dolly girls?
You could try a statue of Venus de Milo, of course.
But that's only a lot of polished marble.
A living, breathing Stephanie is far more alluring.
MARIA NICOLE, seen as just about the best view in her Kensington home. Maria, a French girl, was educated in a convent near Paris, and now works as a courier in a London travel agency. It's all go, showing tourists the sights of London, but for Maria it's also fun.
Very cosily at home in her new apartment in London is CAROL CATKIN. Carol is a bachelor girl with her eyes set on a modelling career.
This doesn't mean she turns a cold eye to men. There's nothing about Carol that wants to be liberated. Her idea of the blissful best of both worlds is a career to keep her vital and occupied during the day, and a fascinating man to keep her entertained during the evenings.
The thought of dining out by herself makes her throw a fit.
"Men are so useful," she says earnestly, "they can order the wine and boss the waiters about. They can see you safely home—after they've paid the bill, of course—and they don't mind a bit if you have to poke them in the eye on your doorstep. They like that, it tells them you're a nice girl. How dreary if you had to go out with another girl. I mean, who’d pay, for goodness sake?"
Isn't she a lovely bachelor girl?
"Come here, son. Look at this. It's a lyxtuscancilius. Not many of them about these days."
"Just as well, dad. It's horrible. I like daisies best. You seen the view, dad?"
"Not now, son. I'm concentrating on this lyxtuscancilius."
"I never seen a view as good as this, dad."
"What view? Here, half a tick, stand aside, my boy. Ah. Mmm. Now look, son, here's two bob. Go to that shop two miles down the road and buy yourself an ice cream. If you see your mother tell her I sat on a lyxtuscancilius and I'll join her when I'm better."
"I'll tell her about the view too, shall I, dad?"
"Would you like a thumping or another two bob?"
"Make it another two bob, dad."
Dad wasn't so potty about wild flowers that he couldn't recognise a view as lovely as the one SYLVAN COLLINS made.
Sylvan is a London dolly who looks swinging in a discotheque and absolutely enchanting in the sunshine. Wasn't it wonderful that dad had his camera with him to capture a permanent record of the view?
A member of a dancing troupe is ANNABEL LANE.
She's twenty, she's trim, she's vivacious. She comes from the West Country, and that's a six-barred West Country gate she's perched on.
Her favourite listening is pop music, and she also likes horses, crisp autumnal days and fellers who can make her laugh.
Housewife MARITA SAUNDERS isn't just a pretty face in a modern kitchen, she's a glamour girl around a snooker table. That's pool to American readers.
Fancy a game or two with Marita? She'll give you four blacks start, and while you're ruminating on her mini-dress and wondering why it was that you didn't marry a girl just like her, Marita will have potted you right out of the game.
And she'll do it all with a lovely smile and a wizard cue.
It might make you sadly conscious of your incompetence but at least it won't hurt.
Marita is from Croydon, has lovely big eyes and measures 38-24-36.
Out in the country, whizzing around in a fast car and all that. Happy days. Very happy for JAN LLOYD, 23-year-old English housewife with a zest for zingy fresh air and brief minis. As well as being a housewife she's a short -hand typist and lives in Havant, Hampshire.
Would you believe it? Jan and her husband are engaged with a do-it-your-self building group in the erection of their own house. Jan looks lovely at week-ends when she's mixing cement, laying bricks and climbing ladders. Naturally, she looks particularly lovely on the latter. And she's quite an eyeful when she's tinkering around with her car, too.
When the bath water was halfway up the bath our glamour girl DAWN GRAYSON slipped on the tiles and fell in.
She found herself immersed when she wasn't really dressed for it. She plunged about and called for help and the cameraman went in. He only had his camera with him and said, "I don't think you're actually drowning, so stay like that for a few minutes and I'll capture your impromptu wet look.”
"Wet? I'm soaked,” said Dawn.
"Don't worry, I'll go and get you a lifebelt as soon as I've finished the film,” said he.
"Oh, well, in for a penny, in for a splash," said Dawn.
West Germany is noted for its fair-haired frauleins, and any Briton who goes there just for the beer is exercising a very limited imagination.
True, dedicated beer drinkers don't profess to be highly imaginative in their solid art of bar quaffing, and in the opinion of many it only spoils the taste of the beer.
However, outside the beer halls of West Germany imaginative life does go on. Particularly around the universities. One West German student we're absolutely tickled to know is ANGELA FRANK. This is Angela.
Angela is eighteen, wears mini-skirts, midi-coats and lace-up boots, but for all her up-to-date gear she's no follower of any tearaway cult, she's a very serious student.
Like to take her out for a German beer sometime, would you?
So would we.
You'll be interested to know that DONNA SHARP isn't just a pretty face. She's a Coventry girl and besides having the kind of looks at which the boys whistle a bit feverishly.
Donna is as cute as a pearl button.
A shorthand-typist with an aptitude for efficiency. Donna can also handle a Mini. A Mini being a real goer, lots of girls find them rather fast, but Donna can manage, thank you.
She's eighteen, measures 36-23-36, is mad about pop music—aren't we all in our different ways? —and while so many others are worrying about the bomb. Donna is finding life can be fun.
If your girlfriend is the kind who's always agitating you into joining demonstrations, why not swop her with somebody else's dolly and have fun yourself?
Where could you expect to find a dollier dolly than in a theatrical agency? Well, it so happens that Blodwen Morgan- Jones will bet you a hindquarter of chilled beef—worth a packet of anybody's money—that the really scrumptious dollies are only to be found in the Welsh hills.
"Exactly whereabouts?" said Fred passionately.
"Ah, bach," said Blodwen, "anywhere in the hills, but they only come out at night, look you, for seen in the light of day they'd all be carried off by those rampaging Normans."
She must be living in the primitive past or something. We're living in the present, all cracking fireworks and vibrating dollies.
This one is JUNE PERFECT. She's secretary to a theatrical agent who specialises in auditioning beautiful birds to send to the European capitals as Go-Go dancers. There is, apparently, an unending demand for English Go-Goers throughout Europe.
All the girls are first interviewed by June. Only the best get by.
Her selection is always perfect.
Eighteen-year-old ANNE WORTH is living proof of student power. Enjoying her college life, she's a stunning example of how to exercise influence without throwing eggs.
She merely looks herself.
College men waver around uncertainly in her presence, wondering if they ought to get married now instead of waiting for the capitalist system to be upended.
Anne is studying history and other subjects. She wants to be a teacher. Fred wanted to know if she intended to take evening classes.
"Where?" said Anne.
"In my drawing-room," said Fred.
"Cheeky," said Anne.
You'd think from her name, her dark hair and her big brown eyes that CATHY FIGURA was Italian. But she's a Yorkshire girl. She comes from Bradford.
That may very well be. But those looks, those curves, those legs. Italian-style sex appeal all over, like.
And versatile, ye gods. yes. Cathy is an artist, a dress designer and an actress with credits in more than one film. She remains joyfully free-lance, and whenever she needs some extra lolly she performs as a Go-Go dancer in the celebrated Yorkshire clubs.
They fall off their chairs when Cathy is swinging.
Quite close to Portobello Road in London lives SARAH MARSDEN, textiles salesgirl.
The Portobello Road is famous for its market, which specialises in stalls loaded with antiques valuable and useless, cheap and dear. Many a fantastic find has been made there by antique collectors with an eye for a true bargain.
Sarah has such an eye. She can see through any old white elephant and has acquired a quite valuable collection of Victorian bric-a-brac and Victorian clothes. She also has a flair for old china dolls.
We went off china dolls, old or new, when we first discovered that girls were living, breathing wonders. Sarah is our idea of a living, breathing wonder of today, and anytime she'd like to entertain us among her bric-a-brac we'll do some research on Victorian knockers and have a lovely antique conversation with her.
It had been a busy year for KIM SCOTT.
Kim is an airline stewardess and it had been all go from January to December. She seemed to have hardly touched ground. It was lovely for the passengers as few stewardesses can serve coffee as engagingly as Kim, but for Kim it was definitely all go.
But we managed to catch her when she was home for a day.
In her flat in Middlesex, not far from London Airport,
Kim spent the day being all domestic.
It was all go again.
One day Kim is going to retire and put her feet up for a year. Anyone like to spend the time running around for her?
