Graceful, photogenic housewife is SHEILA BAKER and very nice indeed to have around the place. For what more could one want in any wife as pretty as Sheila and with culinary talents that would win approval from Mrs. Beeton herself?
This is Sheila’s favourite cat, with big green eyes and long, long whiskers. Maybe it’s nice to have a cat around, too, but if we were given a choice between one or the other it would be bye-bye moggie.
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?
Gorgeous girl with the sweeper is beauty queen TINA RYATT.
Cute in her waisted petticoat, Tina isn’t just an ornament around the house she’ll take a hand with the chores anytime. Here on the right, for instance, she’s really getting down to it although we can’t think why she’s looking so surprised unless she can hear the patter of hobnailed feet up the chimney.
We were wrong there. Tina was merely losing her balance. Well, that’s preferable to losing your head, as Charles I found out, for you can always do something about a bruise. But once you’ve lost your head, what’ve you got left?
Tina is a Flintshire girl, with statistics of 36-23-36, is eighteen and has night black hair and big brown eyes.
In response to requests from fans smitten by the engaging fascination of June in a sweater, we have devoted this particular series to a white sweater trimmed with dark blue. June wears it with the confidence of a beautiful girl who knows she can do it shapely justice. There is, we feel, just enough sweater and just enough June.
No current model is more popular than lovely JUNE PALMER, and not only on account of her beautiful brown eyes!
Natural golden blonde is ELAINE TAYLOR and you remember that story about the three bears, of course? You know, how Goldilocks went and ate up their porridge?
Elaine doesn’t eat porridge and she doesn’t actually know any bears— not by name, anyway— but if they ever made a film about it, she’d walk the audition.
Some berk is bound to hop in here with the comment that Goldilocks was only a little girl.
In which case, he’d be a completely hopeless berk if he couldn’t see a grown-up Goldilocks would be an absolute whizz.
Elaine lives in Cardiff, and when the Welsh are independent perhaps they’ll put Elaine on their standards instead of the dragon. Then we’d all fly a Welsh standard.
We know lots of vivacious girls. HELGA HANSEN is one of the most vivacious and certainly seems the happiest. It takes hardly anything to bring her out in lovely giggles.
We told her about the elephant that carried its own trunk off the transport plane and how the baggage men all went on strike, and Helga, over here from West Germany, thought it so funny that she simply rolled about.
She looked ever so lovely, what with her mini-dress and all.
She said how comical we were.
We told her to just keep rolling about.
Helga is perfecting her English. Personally, we wouldn't care if she only spoke Patagonian Gaelic. What's another language to a deaf ear when one's eyes are so stunned!
Poised very domesticatedly against her home background is MARION CLEER, which makes a bit of a change from pent-up dolls waving banners in aid of Germaine Greer or Bubbles Fortescue.
Bubbles Fortescue? Who's she when she’s got a train to catch?
Oh, just a woman mountaineer with a sense of grievance that it's only men who fall off Everest.
Our Marion quite likes men, really. They're not as brilliant as women, of course, but as a home girl Marion hopes one day to settle down with a fairly nice one. At present she's a secretary in Poole, Dorset, and her boss thinks the world of her. Naturally.
She's twenty-one, green-eyed and blonde, and as well as cook books she also loves horse-riding.
Some girls make a hobby of good books or flower arrangements. LUCY BROCK thinks good books and flower arrangements have their own place in life, but people interest her far more.
Especially homo sapiens. No, don't get confused, that means people of a genuine masculine gender. The frank fact is, Lucy finds men fascinating. She doesn't actually follow them about but she does like to have them to lean on. It's lovely being a girl, she says. You can lean on them and they expect you to, she says. Her favourite one is tall and dishy, but she wouldn’t mention his name in case other girls were listening.
ANNETTE WILSON, whom we feel we could suitably title the girl we'd most like to be lost in a fog with.
Like all beautiful blondes, Annette looks a wow in black, and that includes a black bikini on a bright beach.
You may have other ideas about how you like your favourite blondes to dress, but from the colour point of view you’ll admit black does more than something for Annette.
The outfit itself helps more than a little, of course. It’s Annette’s own favourite pin-up wear, and what’s good enough for Annette is certainly good enough for us.
As far as blonde SONIA and brunette JILL are concerned, what's fashionable is what’s warm. Until the summer comes they prefer longs to shorts!
Acting as lady's maid. Jill dresses Sonia's hair. We can’t decide whether the short skirt is superfluous or the longs too long. Can you?
A preview of summer fashions in lingerie for these two lovelies reveals a somewhat slinkier look. This, we consider, is glamour all the way!
Very accomplished dancer to modern jazz is SYLVIA MARTIN of North London, and we can't say fairer than that without getting caught up in an extravaganza of completely dizzy jazz.
Sylvia has been around, dancing with a troupe in most of the European capitals. In Rome she met a fanatical Italian count. Well, he called himself a count and Sylvia called him fanatical. He followed her about and she could hardly go anywhere without Fatimo popping up in his dark glasses. He begged for her hand, he was handsome, engaging and rakishly suave.
” Marry me,” he kept saying.
"Look, stop following me about,” said Sylvia, "I'm not suited to be the wife of a count, I want to marry a footballer."
"So? I confess, then,” he said, "I am not a count, I am Guiseppe Fatimo and I play centre-back for the Italian grocers' team. Now will you marry me I”
"I can’t,” said Sylvia,” I’m madly in love with an English goalkeeper. Now will you go or do I have to push you off this sun roof!”
” You must push me off, my beautiful one,” he said.
Well, Sylvia thought that really was the best thing to do, so she did, and Guiseppe Fatimo didn't half feel it. When he woke up he had amnesia. He couldn't remember Sylvia but the nurse was so enchanting that he began to woo her very happily.
It was a nice ending, really, especially as the sun roof was only a few feet above the ground.
Life being full of fantasies, it's not going to sound all that unusual to you to hear that this nice girl, JENNY HURST, has a most uncommon hobby.
Jenny, in fact, likes to do glass-blowing in her spare time.
In her initial enthusiasm and impetuosity, her most overworked expression was, "Oh, blow!" as the expanding section either took a turn for the bizarre or collapsed into a shambles.
But she's a lot better at it now and can blow some lovely glass vases and things. Her real job is as a demonstrator in a London store, she's a honey blonde, has blue eyes, stands 5 feet 5 inches in her stockinged feet and has a figure of 36-24-36.
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.
