Beauty queen and film starlet is TINA RYATT, Welsh girl and just about as easy on the eye as a mink coat.
You can have your ton-up bikes, your first-night tickets, your new cooker, your fragile stomach.
Give us a mink coat.
If you could arrange for Tina to be wrapped up in it we’d be all over indescribable gratitude.
It's neither amazing nor sensational now.
The topless look.
Girls are revelling in freedom from bras and corsets. Bosoms are out, like. But honestly, you don't know where to look at a party, do you? Be terrifying if the craze took on a blase, everyday phase. You know how one gets crammed up in a tube train. What on earth could you say to CAROLINE FORD if you found she had suddenly become your bosom friend on the rush hour Inner Circle line?
"What lovely weather. Miss Er—Um."
"I'm not Miss Er—Um, and would you mind not hanging your umbrella on me?"
"Oh, dreadfully sorry—"
"Now you've dropped something, you silly man."
"Oh, just my eyeballs."
Simply revelling in all that freedom is Caroline.
Girl who wants to know how the modern equivalent of Amelia Bloomer’s reach-me-downs look on her is our inimitable SUSAN DOUGLAS.
We don’t want to publicise our own bias in the matter.
We leave it to you.
You say.
No, it wasn't that HELENE GIBBS was taken with a desire to get away from the pressures of London life. She's doing very well as a model, thank you, and is enjoying herself.
It just happened that when she was modelling stockings and suspenders in an outdoor location, some entranced cowboy from Texas became riveted.
"Well, I ain't seen a better looking filly since Thanksgiving," he said to the cameraman, "I reckon I'd trade a ranch for her to come home and cook for me."
"Do me a favour, eh ?" said the cameraman. "Shove off, eh?"
Texas swiped him with his stetson. He was that keen not to have any interruptions. Seeing how keen he was Helene got lost in the undergrowth, getting away from the prospects of slaving over a hot stove in Texas.
"I don't even like cooking," she said to a gooseberry bush.
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 a sort of slinky gym vest and black tights JANE MILLER went out for a gambol with her jump-ball.
Very sporty bird is Jane. Loves games and all that. Along came a walking-stick case, an old gent with gout. He took one look at Jane, a secretary in Kingston, Surrey, threw away his walking-stick and galloped gamely towards her.
Inevitably he fell flat on his face.
Jane picked him up, gave him back his stick and helped him into a wheelbarrow. As the gamekeeper wheeled him away she said farewell with a smile and a wave. It cheered him up no end.
Nobody ever thought there was such a phenomenon as a shy Swede, but we found one in London last summer. KIRSTEN VETA.
She was over from Stockholm and was staying in Hampstead, where our photographer buttonholed her in his endearing way and persuaded her to leave some charming mementoes of herself before she went back home. Mementoes in the form of photographs.
Kirsten giggled, turned pink, turned around, turned pinker and so on. And there you are.
Young and golden secretary ANN WILLIAMS was on a Highland fling, staying in a cottage with a view of a wide, green glen.
She was getting lots of fresh air and making friends with Highland steers. There was one called Angus. Solid as a house he was and as gentle as a baby calf as long as you didn't ride a motorbike all over his pasture. Ann wanted to take him home with her.
So she rang her mother. Her mother said well, you'll have to keep him in the garden, they couldn't possibly have him indoors. So she went out and measured the garden and Ann went out and measured Angus.
Then they returned to the phone and compared measurements and found that Angus was twice as big as the garden.
So Ann brought home a mini-kilt instead.
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.
Secretary, JUDY COE was mad about tennis when she was an energetic and growing schoolgirl. Here she is looking like she used to look when she was a prefect in the Sixth and Milly Cutbosh was the school sneak. We won't tell you about what happened, except to say all the nice girls got together and threw Milly off Ben Nevis.
When Judy left school, she was still quite gone on tennis, so she joined a nearby club. An utterly dynamic bloke was the club captain. He liked Judy just as much for her form as her skill. He started to ring her up when the week-ends were coming around.
"Well, what'll we do, tennis or what?" he'd say.
Judy always knew the right answer; her mother had told her.
"Well, tennis, of course," she'd say.
He was on his way to Ireland and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He knew the rumours about all those punch-ups weren't rumours at all, and that if they found out his name was Smith and he came from Birmingham they’d knock his flaming head off.
On the way, there he passed someone going the other way. She was simply delicious and he only had time to wave as their boats passed. When she waved back he was enraptured. "Stop the boat,” he said to the captain, "I want to get off." "Silly boy," murmured the captain, patting his head and going on his way.
However, when he got to Ireland he had something to take his mind off the fireworks. It was his dream of home, all in the shape of BRIDGET KILDARE Bridget is a model who is constantly travelling to and fro in her professional engagements, and more than a few men who have seen her passing by consider her a dream of home.
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.
A top-class car salesman is worth his weight in cigar lighters. Now, not everyone can be top-class but you can all try and none of you should be too proud to pick up a few tips.
Here's a very good tip.
First, stand your product in the most attractive part of the showroom, preferably where the accounts girl makes the coffee. Then look around for a corking dolly bird, one with fantastic legs, and if she’s wearing suspenders instead of those rotten old sexless tights, so much the better. Anybody drifting into the showroom to look at a car isn't going to turn his nose up at the glimpse of a sexy suspender.
A dolly bird rather on the lines of JUTTA ALBRECHT, West German model, will do famously. Ask her to try the car out for size, ask her to see whether it will suit her legs and so on. Well, nobody can resist the lush interior of any new car, especially dolly birds. It gives them that extra expensive feel. So, in she gets and she tries it for comfort and size and puts her lovely legs all over the place. Meanwhile the customers are streaming in and in no time at all you've got about two dozen potential buyers crowding you and elbowing you about. You slip a bar of chocolate into the dolly bird's hand and she goes off munching it.
Followed, of course, by all your potential buyers.
Jutta posed for these pics happily enough, and did all she could to look as much like a corking dolly bird as she could. Her legs felt a bit crowded at times, but not enough to upset her dedication.
OUR AU PAIR WAS NEVER LIKE THIS
Most people who have had the invaluable help of an au pair girl from abroad will tell you they've never had one quite like SONYA MOULTZ.
Sonya is Austrian. She's nineteen and she came from Innsbruck to be an invaluable help to the Chucklebodys of Uxbridge. Mr Chucklebody was entranced, for Sonya brought her own maid's uniform with her, which was like a delicious something out of a French farce. Someone had told her it was the standard outfit for all au pair girls.
Mrs Chucklebody wasn't as entranced as Mr Chucklebody, who began to take days off from his business in order not to miss too much of Sonya sweeping the carpet and looking full of Continental oo-la-la. Efficient as well as delicious, she's brought order to the household chores for Mrs Chucklebody and very photogenic stocking-tops back into the life of Mr Chucklebody, who thought they'd gone for ever.
