It was a lovely day and JOAN PAUL found herself a lovely spot. Deep in the heart of Surrey, where the foxes still run. Far from the rushing, hissing, clanking noises of London.
“London is swingy,” said Joan, “but it’s lovely here. I could stay here all day, but foxhounds keep running over my feet and snapping at my feet. I didn’t realise everything was still so primitive. Gadzooks, here’s another bunch and they’re all drooly. James, fetch the car.”
Having returned home to Scotland from the sunny shores of the Mediterranean, cute SANDRA McPHERSON decided the first thing to do was to take an inventory of the pantry. Reluctant to completely divorce herself from the atmosphere of the Med, she put on her little short sun-skirt. The nylons are merely in acknowledgment of the somewhat colder breezes of Scotland, and they don’t completely black out her sun-tan. This was a beautiful golden brown and Sandra certainly does justice to that kind of tan.
Sandra’s main impression of Italy was the Italians—the way those Latin men sneak up and pinch a girl had to be felt to be believed.
It’s a fact, of course, that lots of girls who go to Italy return tanned from the sunshine and tender from the pinching. Sandra, we’re pleased to say, remains true to Scotland and the Scots.
It’s not always the view from the window that makes a room charming. Sometimes, as in this case, it’s the view of the occupant — especially if the occupant happens to be DENISE FLEMING, a dark-eyed Scot with long and lovely legs.
Once more the mini in its brevity strikes the eye with an impact that almost hurts.
The girl is MARRIANNE SAND, a blue-eyed blonde from London. She's twenty-three, a dancer and an absolute dream. She likes suntan, champagne and messing about with boats.
She wears her jeans when she's sailing. The only time she wore a mini all the competing yachtsmen fell overboard.
Outside of boats Marrianne is lovely to have around, because she's not just a pretty face, you know. She can cook, make conversation and pass an opinion.
In other words, if you've got a girl friend who is only a pretty face, try one who can activate your intelligence.
I don't want my intelligence activated, said Fred, I just want a pretty face.
There's no one who needs a pretty face more than you do, Fred.
Our Scottish photographer tells us that RUTH CAVENDISH is not only beautiful but highly intelligent and extremely cultured. It’s with confidence, then, that we exhort this lovely lady to put her best foot forward when alighting from her car, for she will do so far too intelligently to trip up and far too attractively not to make a perfect picture.
For those who like statistics as much as they like culture, Ruth is eighteen, and fits very nicely into a shapely silhouette of 38"-24"-38". Did you ever see any girl alight so prettily?
Ruth’s ambition is to become a fashion model, and certainly no fashion model we ever saw comes to the job more photo-genically than Ruth could. Of all the bonny Scots we have featured, Ruth is among the bonniest.
Whenever the laurels are awarded for shapely legs Ruth is among the enchanting recipients, and these shots leave us in no doubt she deserves every leaf.
If you want to be with it among the modern misses boots are a necessity these days—if you don’t wear a pair you’re a square. Well, we wouldn’t call PAMELA JOHNSON square under any circumstances, not when she has those curvaceous statistics of 35-22-36.
Pamela hails from Rotherham and we must say she looks an absolute peach in her long black boots—but so she does, anyway.
Pamela at the moment works in an office but has hopes and ambitions to become a model. All we can do is advise her to put her best leg forward and step out
Some models go off and get married, others get new jobs abroad and don't come back, and a few give everything up in favour of farming.
A very select minority keep at it and get better and better.
Like NICOLA TAYLOR, an always beautiful Hampshire model. Nicola gets better and better all the time. Don’t ask us how she does it so that you can pass the hints on to your wives or girlfriends, as it must be Nicola's own secret and probably wouldn't work with Nellie, anyway.
Now that summer's here you'll frequently find Nicola sunning herself on a beach at Bournemouth and getting a lovely golden tan nearly all over.
It's music all the way for most young people. For some old people, there hasn't been any music at all since the Charleston went out of fashion. Well, we all have our nostalgic periods, and there are thousands already nostalgic about the Beatles.
"Who are the Beatles?" asked six-year-old Francesca of her young mum and dad, and young mum and dad almost broke down and wept.
For eighteen-year-old NICKI DENELL it's today's music that counts. Nicki spends every evening Go-Go dancing with a mobile discotheque. That's the way to swing it, Fred, never mind what it was like when you were in Italy in 1 944.
Nicki's love of pop is only equalled by her ambition to get into films. She's maybe on the way, for recently she had an audition for a part in a movie to be made in Yorkshire. That'll be handy as well as ecstatic for Nicki—she lives in Leeds.
Very merry maid is MITZI McLEAN, never without a smile—unless she falls off a bus —and never without a laughing quip. As appealing as all Scots girls always are, Mitzi loves every moment of life, and if politicians and anarchists want to run riot, they’re welcome, but they don’t get the kick out of things that Mitzi does.
Mitzi is a much-travelled girl. She used to run a successful hairdressing establishment until she decided to up and see the world.
And Mitzi upped and saw the world just like that. She is brilliantly clever speaks several languages and knows most questions and answers.
For the benefit of international wolves, we’d like to say that Mitzi not only speaks all these languages but can say no in every one. A feature of Mitzi’s pin-up appeal are her long and lovely legs, as you can see for yourselves.
Having got over her passion for collecting vintage cars — they all came apart in her hands — JOAN PAUL decided she'd go in for a dreamboat with an outboard.
You don't have to muck about with sails then or get biffed by the boom or something.
So, she advertised for one and a Greek god turned up. Joan took one look at him, went all dizzy and said "Do you have an outboard?"
"I don't need an outboard to get me going” said the Greek god, "I only need encouragement."
The background is Surrey in winter, the girl with the frills is cute MAGGIE McCULLY, the hat exclusive. What makes a better picture?
Maggie lives in Surrey herself, and is gay enough to do a little tree climbing in her best Sunday dress. She is a short-hand-typist who has just begun to do a little part-time modelling, and we must say that hat is as photogenic as Maggie herself.
There's a touch of old Ireland in that smile and a whisper of rustling nylon in the frills. Oh, to be in Surrey now that Maggie’s here!
A girl sitting on a tree is elegant when it's Maggie— and if the elegance looks somewhat disarranged when Maggie falls off, who could make the bump take on the same gaiety as she does?
In fact, Maggie turns the fall and the bump into a picture of a girl sitting pretty. Maggie’s vitalistics? 36-23-36.
When we found IRIS GETTINGER, a lovely young fraulein we met in West Berlin, trying to make herself look more beautiful, we knew this was a perfect case of gilding the lily, for Iris is so naturally photogenic she has absolutely no need to try and improve her looks.
Indeed, it’s very obvious that ANNETTE FRENCH must have been a beautiful baby, for just look at her now a pin-up girl with dark-eyed glamour from top to toe perfect to gaze upon and perfect to know.
Annette’s natural love is beautiful clothes, on which she spends most of the money she earns working for a book publisher, and there’s no girl who does more justice to beautiful clothes than Annette.
Annette is nineteen, is engaged to be married some guy is an exceptionally lucky guy and has vitalistics of 35-23-36 going down.
Among all those clothes of hers Annette counts frilly underwear in all its modern allure, and we can assure her that she doesn’t need that mirror to show her how good and gorgeous she looks in it.
Some people—the aesthetic, art-collecting kind—think the most important thing to have in the home is decor. Once upon a time, certainly, nobody thought a home looked anything if it didn’t have wallpaper full of roses, but that was as far as it went. There might be a stuffed bird or two, a bow-legged table and an aspidistra, but all in all what really counted was the little woman.
In Victorian times she had to be a big woman. Well, they believed in women looking like women. None of your Twiggies. She had to be built, and if she wasn’t she used a bustle to help.
So, what do you look for today—velvet curtains, colourful decor, wall tables? Or a wife like SANDIE BROWN, who’d take your mind off any decor, no matter how way out? Sandie has a bewitching figure 38"-24"-37"—and we can tell you straight, we wouldn’t care if the decor was all old and peeling as long as we had Sandie to look at.
Of course, if you are incurably aesthetic but also incurably human, you’d like the girl and the decor, wouldn’t you?
Attractive Yorkshire secretary, MARGOT WEST, found the farm tractor a recalcitrant brute.
It was stop, go, stop, go and stop. The mechanic, a wild irresponsible type, had gone off to play Bingo at the corn exchange, and there was nothing left for Margot to fall back on except her own initiative. Bravely discarding her skirt in case, it caught up in the big end, our secretarial type got down to proving it’s not only typewriters she can cope with.
And how did it all work out? Listen to Margot herself. “Is there a mechanic in the house?”
