Ornamental cat charm is personified in this elongated statue of a Siamese puss.
The lady in the picture is SALLY McGREGOR.
She's a sweet puss herself. It’s probably true that most women are purringly feline, and Sally says no one would purr more than she would if she could slip into a mink coat.
What about scratching?
"Certainly,” said Sally, "I'll do your back if you'll do mine." Purr, purr.
Some privileged guy called Willi Fritz, we think, is on the receiving end of this phone call from NINA WARTENBURG, blonde Berlin secretary who's wearing the boots to keep her toes warm.
We hope Willi is sufficiently appreciative of how attractive his caller is, even if Nina is only ringing to tell him to send over a small joint of Dutch veal. In fact, we hope any butcher's boy appreciates a pretty secretary as much as he does a young calf.
When she left Hamburg some time ago to come to England, VICKY LANDAU thought well, it won't be long before I'm back, there's my dog Rupert and Willi Albrecht from the shipping company, they're both lovely.
But now Rupert the dog and Willi the shipper are both just a memory. Vicky is still here, established in a cosy flat in London and earning her keep by lucrative modelling jobs.
"Naturally," said Vicky in her fluent native tongue to Nigel Merry-weather in a London pub, "I shall go back one day, probably when I've made my fortune."
"Could you speak in English,” said Nigel, "as I only speak German like an incoherent Italian in a wine barrel."
"Oops, you are so funny," said Vicky.
"Actually," said Nigel, "I'm dead serious, you're the most devastating bird I've ever met, and I tell you frankly. I've got designs on you. Have two more double Scotches,"
"I think," said Vicky, "that you are trying to get me drunk.”
"I'll be truthful," said Nigel, "I'm that kind of rotter."
"Englishmen," murmured Vicky, "are fascinating but much too naughty," And she poured her drink down his shirt front and then conked him with a German candlestick she always carries in her handbag.
Like any housewife, ROZ BARNWELL can always find time for a chat on the phone. It's nice to have friends who ring you up.
Roz is a pretty busy housewife, and a young mother too. Not only does she look after home, hubby and infant, she also holds down a secretarial job. And about once a week she does a modelling assignment. That just about makes her so versatile that she's almost a lovely miracle.
Other wives might buckle at the knees and start growing wrinkles and grey hairs, but Roz remains not just young but a delight to have around. She still likes the glamour of wearing stockings and suspenders, and if it weren't for the fact that the milkman has all his empties to look after he'd like to deliver four times a day to Roz's house. It's just joy to the eyes when she opens the door to take in her daily pint.
Ah, Cyprus. Island of rich wine and hot sun, sparkling jewel of Ancient Greece set in the wine-dark sea of Homer.
Of course, it's changed a bit since all those heroic Greeks chased the maidens from coast to coast.
The maidens are still enchanting but they get chased by tourists now.
Lovely SACHA MICHAELIDES used to work as a receptionist in a Cyprus hotel. There she took a great liking to tourists from Britain, especially the young and crazy buckeroos, and in the end decided to come to London. Now she's working in the offices of Cyprus sherry importers and has made the place intoxicating for the male staff.
It's no wonder those Ancient Greek heroes were always leaving Athens and rowing to Cyprus.
In Rome at the moment is INGRID SCHOELLER, film actress.
She isn’t the only one converted to the Italian line.
Beautiful girls from all over the world confess they are fascinated by the Italian line as soon as they arrive in Rome. Some also confess they are a little confused by it, especially Southern belles arriving from Atlanta, Georgia, where the men never pinch a girl, however luscious she is.
The Italian line has nothing whatever to do with coy reserve. If the Romans like the look of a flower of the Orient or a damsel from Denmark, they don’t believe in hiding their feelings.
They like Ingrid Schoeller very much. And Ingrid in turn is not without affection for Rome. As well as the Romans there are also all those lovely ancient monuments, which are extremely stimulating to any girl with an interest in old masonry.
Old masonry in the shadows of a Rome moon can be quite romantic.
Since a Scottish flavour is always acceptable, here's one more pin-up girl from over the border. ELIZABETH GALLACHER.
Entirely feminine is Elizabeth, a housewife who can serve up a soufflé looking absolutely eatable. A soufflé is a bit tricky, it has to come to the table delicately fluffy. Still, who's going to care all that much if it subsides a bit? What's a soufflé when you can always make do with bubble and squeak? What's food compared with romance? What’s a new fishing rod compared with the feminity of Elizabeth?
The Mona you all know about is Mona Lisa. She's hanging in the Paris Louvre. There's a new one around now.
She's London girl MONA FORSTER.
Eighteen years old and an office girl who likes part-time modelling, Mona makes a lovely portrait and if Miss Lisa looks more cryptic. Miss Forster looks far more gorgeous.
Fred stood for an hour gazing at the cryptic smile of Mona Lisa.
After looking at our new Mona for only five minutes he sat down heavily.
"It's me knees," he said, "they've gone all weak. Where can I meet her?"
You'll be lucky, Fred.
Mona has the dishiest boyfriend who knows just how to keep her away from weak-kneed characters like Fred.
If there's a girl you'd most like to be lost in a casino with it must be GAIL PINDER, for Gail is a croupier at a Manchester night club.
Never did any croupier look so charming or rake in the lolly so sweetly. It's a pleasure to lose. Well, even if not a pleasure it doesn’t hurt so much, not if you lose yourself in her green eyes as she scoops it in.
Harry thought anybody who couldn't sort out his own problems but had to take them to a psychiatrist needed to have his head examined. His friend Oliver said that was the same thing, to which Harry replied it was all a lot of half-baked propaganda put about by blokes who had to make a living at it.
And then he met SANDRA MORRELL at a garden party, where there were lots of homemade cakes on view and a lot of home-made wine-tasting going on. Harry had tested them all by the time he bumped into Sandra, who was there in her official capacity as the garden party beauty queen or something equally exotic and ravishing.
Harry almost fell down. What a doll, he thought. He took her hand and pressed unsolicited kisses on it. Then he looked into her eyes and murmured, "Come and try my cherry tart, I made it myself." "Pardon me," said Sandra," but I never eat cherry tart with men who've had too much elderberry wine."
Harry was distraught. He went to see a psychiatrist next day to try and find out why elderberry wine made him so unattractive to women.
And after six visits, all at ten guineas a time, the psychiatrist told him it was because too much elderberry wine made him lurch sideways.
It’s not only the teenage girls who love the mini fashions, you know. Grown-up girls like housewife JOANANN MARSHALL love them too, and what’s more, look absolutely gorgeous in them.
Naturally, you need to have peekaboo legs.
You also need a kind of off-beat detachment to enable you to ignore the wolf whistles.
Joanann is a Lancashire girl and as is well-known, the Lancashire males whistle louder than any. But at least they don’t go in for all that pinching and nipping. You have to go all the way to Rome for that.
Imagine having to go all the way to Rome to get pinched. Well, some like it.
Don’t try pinching Joanann. You'll get socked. She bruises easily She's very fond of art by the way. She doesn’t spend all her time going out and shopping for vegetables. You can still make the most of life.
Some men are lucky. One of them was very lucky. He married her and helps her with her mini shopping. He not only knows what Joanann likes, he knows what he likes too.
What do you say when you go out to buy a new hotplate for your kitchen and come back with a new set of glamorous lingerie instead?
That's life. What else can you say? It was what AVRIL MANDERS said, and personally we think Avril in a new set of glamour pants and all that looks a lot more peachy than a hotplate, new or otherwise.
When you live in an apartment and do your own cooking, you need a hotplate or a gas ring or something to cook the eggs on, but it's not a must. You can always go out and eat. Especially if you've got lots of generous boyfriends, only too delighted to stand you some hot fish and chips.
Avril likes a regular meal. It keeps her in shape, like.
Working in a London florists, GILLIAN YATES represents 1975 flower power at its most irresistible.
It's easy to walk into her shop to buy a modest bouquet for your girlfriend, and it's even easier to stay there talking about hothouse carnations, the artistic delights of flower arrangement and what an exquisite arrangement it would be if Gillian shared a bus ride with you on Sundays.
But it's not so easy to ignore the biffs in the back you get from the waiting customers. Try to grin and bear it, Fred.
Yes, okay, we know DIANA REED is shaped in the conventional but entrancing way of all glamorous girls. We know her statistics of 37-24-36 are delightful but not unusual. What is unusual is Diana’s chief outdoor interest. It isn’t muscular beach men, it’s landscape gardening.
It's what?
Yes, we know what you mean.
One girl who comes and goes as her job takes her here, there and elsewhere is ANNETTE FRENCH.
Annette was one of the first of the many recent Scottish models who’ve been featured in our magazines and it’s no effort at all to photograph her again and again and again.
It’s different with elephants. When you’ve seen one elephant you’ve seen them all. And let’s face it, when you’ve photographed any elephant you’ve got an image there’s no need to multiply. A photograph of any elephant is as educative and as illuminating as a hundred photographs of a hundred elephants.
A hundred photographs of Annette represent a hundred different aspects of photogenic allure.
Girls are different in a way that elephants are not different.
It’s very pleasing to realise that.
