Jane Paul

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Jane’s In Fine Form

Glasgow secretary JANE PAUL has always been our idea of a girl in form, and latterly she’s been just beautiful.

With vitalistics of 38-22-36, she’s a natural for stunning the eye of every man lucky enough to get her in focus. Some men get so eye-smitten they start falling about or lurching sideways. We men are so impressionable, you know, that sometimes we think corking charmers like Jane are unfair to us. Either they shouldn’t be so corking or they should dress in tents. We mean wear tents.

Even then, think how lovely Jane in a tent would be like on a camping site in Pogo-Pogo, wherever that is.

Bridget McKenna

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Bridget

What's more Irish than Bridget?

And who's more Irish than BRIDGET McKENNA? Only the leprechauns.

Bridget emerged lustrous and dark-eyed from Dublin to make her way to Britain, where she'd heard they liked swinging shapes. And with her shape of 37-24-37, she felt pretty sure she wouldn't go unnoticed.

She was right. The photographers fell all over her in a manner of speaking. She's a glamour model now and shares an apartment in Islington with another model from Dublin, and this part of Islington has begun to sound just like old Ireland.

No, young Ireland.

Jane Brewerton

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Happy to be a Housewife

Honey blonde JANE BREWERTON has recently got married.

Notwithstanding all that permissive talk which floats carelessly about, Jane wasn't interested in anything but the old-fashioned way of doing things. In white, in church and in June she was married.

Dental receptionist and glamour model, Jane is still happy to be a housewife, and is settling down so well to being a lovely one that hubby is going around murmuring, "Fantastic—why didn't we think of this before?"

And he doesn't just say that because of her delicious Continental cooking, you know.

Rosanne Stuart

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Soccer Fan

Soccer fans are in several different categories these days.

There are the berserk.

There are the faithful.

There are the lovely.

One of the lovely ones is ROZ STUART. And her favourite footballers are fans of hers just as much as she's a fan of theirs. The trouble is, as the centre-forward said, how does a feller keep his mind on football when Roz is sitting in a favoured position on the trainer's bench and wearing a sweater as well?

It's a nice problem.

Tamie Scott

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Secretary On The Go

Life isn't necessarily a matter of waiting around for things to happen. Fred was all right as long as he stayed in bed, but being all by himself it got inexorably dull.

So, he got up and went out in search of a happening. It was a windy day, the washing got blown off the line of No. 63 Planet Avenue and suddenly there was Fred with stockings and frillies and things wrapped around his neck. And there was also a blushing young housewife calling, "Stop, thief." Fred nearly got arrested.

Fortunately, a girl whizzing by in her sports car had seen the happening and was able to testify that Fred had been an innocent victim of the breezes. Fred thought it was absolutely lovely of her and was about to ask her up for cocoa in token of his gratitude when she said, "Well, so long, old sport," and off she whizzed.

TAMIE SCOTT is like that. She's a secretary always on the go. She's nineteen and at that age who ever feels tired? It's different with Fred. He's got flat feet. Tamie has got curves and long lovely legs.

Ruth Cavendish

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Highland Game

Up in the Scottish Highlands they play all those Scottish games, and one of our favourite pin-up girls, RUTH CAVENDISH, is quite good at tossing the caber, providing the caber is scaled down to the size of a walking-stick. "A girl," says Ruth, "should be noted for her charm and subtlety, not her muscles. Who wants muscles?" She was having a grand game doing the Highland Fling not far from the local loch, and then a Scottish terrier joined in and made off with most of her clothes, Ruth having taken them off to give herself more freedom of movement.

It was a new kind of game looking for that terrier, who was finding her terylene skirt tastier than a tin of dog meat. Still, Ruth made a lovely picture while it was all going on.

Susanne Kent

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Taking a Long Short Cut

What with the boss having one of those weeks—he'd lost a contract and his wife was beating him—secretary SUSANNE KENT couldn't get away from the office fast enough on Friday. On Saturday, she plunged into the heart of the country north-west of Glasgow, hoping to find all that fresh air everyone says is so good for you if you've had a trying week with sir.

Susanne took a short cut by climbing a wall. It was a long short cut because she got chased by an Ayrshire prize-winner. It thought she looked like a lady bullfighter. Susanne ran for miles. Still, she looked ever so cheeky with her dress hitched and her legs flashing, and the bull just hadn't got the heart to catch her up and toss her over a country castle.

It just kept following her. And in the end, it turned out to be Tony and Tiny McNutty, circus twins. Tony was the front legs, Tiny the back. They'd enjoyed the chase tremendously. Susanne had her own back. She set a couple of frisky cows on them. Front legs and back legs vanished in a panic over the horizon, the intrigued cows in determined pursuit.

Molly Shannon

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Give Molly a ring

Around the fascinating street markets of London wander the seekers after the old and the ancient.

Among those with a keen eye for the genuine is MOLLY SHANNON. Whenever Molly can spare time from her job as a shorthand-typist she pops into the market throngs. Actually, Molly stands out in a throng. So, do most blue-eyed blondes with vitalistics of 36-24-37.

At seventeen she's already an expert on antique rings. She collects them and has bought the most fascinating ones for a song. So if you're dying to ingratiate yourself with her, and you'd be a hopeless case of fragility if you weren't, you couldn’t do better than give her a ring.

It has to be a ring of antique splendour, of course. Don't try and foist a fake on her. She'll never wear it.

Carol Ann Ledsam and Sandra Morris

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The Waiting Game

They were waiting for their passports to be stamped, CAROL ANN LEDSAM and SANDRA MORRIS. A woman poked her head out and said, "Get undressed.” The girls thought it a bit odd to get undressed for passport-stamping, but helped each other until they both looked very chic in their undies. And then they found they were on the wrong floor, and they were nearly pulled into a sauna bath instead of receiving their passports.

Sylvia Stuart

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What’s It All About?

Secretary SYLVIA STUART thought about going to the local fancy dress gala as a bird of the fifties. Well, her mum kept lots of well-preserved garments of that era in an old family chest, and Sylvia thought she could be utterly authentic if she borrowed some of them.

There was a recognisable bra—somewhat more to it than today's bras but a bra all the same—and there were also some quite wearable pairs of knicks.

"But, oh confusion," said Sylvia, when she put mum's old leg hose on, "how did mum keep them up? What's this, then?"

It was a genuine 1950 garter-belt, an utter mystery to Sylvia, who said she didn't know if it had to be worn around the neck or what. Mum came up and laughed her head off and then explained the intricacies.

Eventually, Sylvia looked lovely and old-fashioned, with everything properly done up and staying up.

Helena Charles

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High in the Sky

In a penthouse flat in Ladbroke Grove, London, dwells one of the most popular girls as far as the balloon fanatics are concerned. We're talking about secretary HELENA CHARLES and what she looks like on a summer evening.

On a summer evening, you see, Helena sunbathes outside her penthouse. Her penthouse is much higher than the surrounding buildings and nobody can overlook her without using a fifty-foot periscope. Except the mad balloonists, who can sail to and fro with basket-swinging impunity and look down on Helena's form divine.

There's one feller in goggles and moustache who nearly swept her up and carried her off, and her without a stitch, by Venus. But at a critical moment his balloon fouled a television aerial and went pop. He sagged down into the street and Helena remained blithely untrammelled, if you know what we mean.

Annabel Lane

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Your Move

Dancer ANNABEL LANE has another passion besides choreography.

It's chess.

She's got lots of chess mates and can whack them all by concentrated dedication. One high-domed egghead who rather fancied himself got checkmated in six moves. When asked what it felt like to be annihilated he replied, "Dreamy, my dear—what a brain she's got to go with her measurements."

Annabel's measurements are all curvy.

Pamela Gastell

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Is There a Tractor Around?

Willy Carmuckle, known locally as the village half-pint—he's only five feet four—looked around to see if there was a tractor in sight. He thought if he could find one and drive it around the cornfield in ever-increasing circles, it would take his mind off the distracting beauty of PAMELA GASTELL.

"You couldn't manage a tractor even if you found one," said his friend, who was more blase about beauty. (He worked in a lingerie factory).

"I could manage it better than I could manage Miss Gastell, she’s too blooming pom-pom for me," said Willy.

"What's pom-pom?"

"She makes my ears go ping," said Willy.

That's the trouble with only being five feet four. Pamela is five feet five and lives in Brighton. During sunny week-ends she rides over the Downs on her horse, and sometimes she gets off her horse and looks all picturesque, as she does here.

Would you like to live in Sussex and meet up occasionally with Pamela?

As a matter of fact, said Bighead, l’d like to live in Sussex and meet up frequently with her.

So would we.

Barbara Martin

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Someone’s Wonder Girl

Not just a pretty face is BARBARA MARTIN from Pudsey in Yorkshire. She's married to a feller who calls her his wonder girl.

In addition to keeping the house lovely to come home to, Barbara is a fine cook, an advertising and fashion model, a Yoga enthusiast and a dab hand at painting.

And if that's not enough she has a curvy figure measuring 37-24-36 and can fill a bikini perfectly.

Ann Carol Keyes

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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.