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.

Christine Frances

/

Travelling Model

Girl who gets around is model CHRISTINE FRANCES. Her professional assignments take her here, there and everywhere. It's a jet age made for jet-setters, and Christine spends a lot of her time flying high.

She's got a gorgeous shape, one you can't miss on those glamorous telly commercials, and she makes two of those beanpole fashion models we're glad to say.

Well, with vitalistics of 37-24-36 Christine makes curves count, not angles. Line up two fashion models and you'd hardly know they were there. Put Christine in a bikini and you've got a picture you can't miss.

Candy Norse

/

Miss American Legs

Don't let's get into any unnecessary arguments about this. Unnecessary arguments always make us come out in hot flushes and either we have to go and see a doctor or punch our way out of it.

The fact is, statistics prove that the women of all nations have equally good legs but the legs of American women are more equal, like. For many years a pair of American legs in a pair of American nylons made men fall off bridges all over the world. It was what came of not looking where they were going because they didn't care where they were going.

Miss CANDY NORSE of San Jose, California, typifies Miss American Legs and is an eye-shattering example of why those men fall off those bridges.

These, if you'll excuse the emphasis on limbs alone, are Miss Norse's legs. Lovely, aren't they?

She's a secretary in an advertising agency and is the Californian man's idea of how to make an office look like the best years of his working life.

Nicola Taylor and Joanna Young

/

Peaches and Pairs

Two peaches make an adorable pair. Especially two peaches like NICOLA TAYLOR and JOANNA YOUNG, happy housewives of Bournemouth who still believe in the mini. From left to right, Nicola is the first peach, Joanna the second.

First Peach:  "I don't know what I'm going to do if the midi does take over. It'll cost me a fortune."

Second Peach: "Me too. And the bus conductors are going to be ever so gloomy."

First Peach:  "Especially the one on the No. 42. He hasn't looked at my face for ages."

Second Peach: "Nor mine. When I came down the stairs.”

First Peach:  Yesterday he said he liked me best in the frilly pink ones I was wearing the day before."  "Well, when Mary Pipkin came down the stairs last week he rang the bell six times and fell off the bus."

Second Peach: "Isn't he a giggle?"

First Peach: "You mean goggle, darling."

Second Peach: "Don't look now but here comes the park-keeper wearing his binoculars."

Jane Paul

/

Highland Games

Up in places like Braemer they have all those Highland Games each year, and lovely Scottish girls like JANE PAUL are seen around. They make a svelte contrast with all the muscle men. The latter may be able to toss a mighty caber, but Jane can throw a husky six-footer with a mere twinkle of her kneecaps.

"Lassie, would ye no, mind standing farther back?" panted one brawny caber competitor.

"Must I?" said Jane.

"Aye, ye must, lassie, or I'll lose my dynamics and do masel' an injury."

"Oh, dear, everyone's so tense," said Jane, and went away.

Well, you can't mess about with cabers. You've got to be tense.

Margaret Sumner

/

London Views

We found some London views we thought you'd like. There were some nice ones, for instance, of MARGARET SUMNER.

Margaret is a receptionist at an exclusive sauna bath establishment in the West End and lives in a Hampstead flat.

Cherry Lennox

/

Student in a Cold Climate

It wasn't half rough. The wind was whistling and cutting little old ladies in half, practically.

Student CHERRY LENNOX of Edinburgh was caught in the teeth of it, as it were. Och, what a wee howling gale. Took her kilt right off. In the nick of time, as it were, she found shelter in an old Scottish roundhouse, whatever that is. Probably similar to a Kentish hophouse.

Anyway, it served to keep the worst of the chilly breezes at bay for Cherry. And while she was able to hold on to her Scottish rainproof she felt she could endure all else, as it were. Even the loss of her kilt.

Whipped off by a quirk of the whistling wind, it was, and went sailing over heather and burn, it did. Never mind, there's always a silver lining. It just showed how perfectly intriguing Cherry's patterned stockings were.

On a day when whistling wind equals student sans kilt in a cold climate, things aren't wholly miserable. And if Cherry can laugh about it, so can you.

Dawn Williams

/

Dawn Rose Rather Late

With a modelling appointment for half-past ten in the morning at Portsmouth, it was unfortunate for DAWN WILLIAMS that the mechanics of her wonky alarm clock broke down during the night. Dawn rose rather late.

The photographer, however, was ever so decent. As they couldn't make Portsmouth in time he said how about stopping off near Guildford and doing some lovely countryside shots instead, and Dawn said she couldn't think of anything more rapturous.

It was hard luck on the Portsmouth naval types, however. They'd have appreciated seeing Dawn around.

Bridget Kildare

/

Sitting Pretty

Sitting very pretty indeed is BRIDGET KILDARE, girl with very distinctive eye appeal in her black boots and brief mini.

Bridget makes a lovely secretary and if you know a more enchanting blonde to go with a desk and a typewriter you must be really living.

At five feet five with vital statistics of 36-23-36, Bridget must just about be everybody's idea of the perfect picture for the camera you had for Christmas.

Dagmar Keller

/

Searching Look

"Please, may I look through your files?" asked DAGMAR KELLER of the basement library clerk.

"How can I say no?" replied the clerk faintly. "The only thing is I'm dead mortified I can't stay and help, only it's me lunch break and I've got a chick to share me hardboiled eggs with."

Off he went. It was hot and stuffy, so Dagmar shed a few things and with a fascinating searching look went in discovery of something we're a bit vague about ourselves.

It was all part of her secretarial duties.

The boss rang down from the sixth floor and said don't take all day. Miss Dagmar. He asked her if she wanted any assistance.

"No thanks, I'm not dressed for it”  said Dagmar blushingly.

"What's she talking about?" muttered the boss as he hung up.

This file was interesting. It was all about a consignment of desert island concubines who got seasick on the way back to Palmtree Paradise.

Search over. Dagmar cooling off. 

In came the library clerk full of hardboiled eggs to fall flat on his face.

So, would anyone.

Trudi Jackson

/

Pretty Personal

A most photogenic asset to the office is TRUDI JACKSON, who works in Bournemouth. She is the personal secretary of a high-class businessman there, and, yes, he does know how lucky he is.

Whenever another businessman calls, he makes Trudi hide herself, because he has a kind of quivering certainty that friends and rivals alike would not hesitate to grab this deliciously efficient wonder girl for themselves. Trudi is an absolute dream of efficiency at every secretarial chore, and when you add all that to her sex appeal, you've got yourself an asset indispensable to the sweet flow of business life.