Carole-Anne Blake

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Once A Nurse

Once a girl has been a nurse, she always retains some compassion for suffering humanity, so CAROLE-ANNE BLAKE is just the girl to hold your hand when you've got toothache. Carole-Anne used to be a dental nurse; you see.

She comes from the North of England and is now modelling in London. She keeps quiet about her dental nursing qualifications because she found that any new friend who got to know about her former job wanted her to look at his teeth. "You can see one molar too many when you're dining out," she said.

Spick No 189 - August 1969

Carole-Anne Blake

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I'll Catch You Up

They were panting along down the grassy track, their spiked shoes picking up every leaf until their soles were absolutely clogged with the stuff.

It was one of those exhausting cross-country events which only fanatics go in for, and Prideaux senior was leading the field, with Biffkins panting behind him.

Suddenly Prideaux senior gave up. He stopped dead. Biffkins panted by him, breasting the upward slope that led out of the wood into a field full of chewing cows.

"It’s all right, Biffkins,” said Prideaux, “I’ll catch you up.”

Crafty devil. He didn’t say a word to Biffkins that he’d seen a gorgeous blonde perilously near some barbed wire, and poor old Biffkins just panted on and never knew what he’d missed.

What had he missed?

A corker. CAROLE-ANNE BLAKE is a London model with lovely shape and a winsome twinkle. Prideaux senior introduced himself and said, “Just thought I’d tell you about the barbed wire.”

“Oh thanks,” said Carole-Anne, “but I know about it.”

Still, she thought, he was an awfully decent young feller to point it out to her and they had a long chat about wildflowers, and Prideaux said he collected stamps as well.

Good old Prideaux senior.

Vicky Ashley

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The Birds And The Bees

The bird fluttered coyly about, tweeting and cooing, and the bee buzzed around waiting for the taste of honey. The bird got fed up with all the zooming and humming and delivered a short uppercut.

"Oh," thought the bemused bee as it plopped into the pond, "I often wondered what the crunch was—now I know."

That, of course, is the allegorical story of the modern birds and bees. You buzz around more than you should and clonk, you're on the floor and she's dragging you through the hall and out of the door and you're picked up with the rest of the garbage later.

An absolutely scintillating example of an irresistible British bird is VICKY ASHLEY, currently making a shining name for herself in the sumptuous studios of London photographers. With her vitalistics adding up to 37-23-36 she can't miss. She could have missed if she'd stayed with her job as a manicurist and beautician, but a bee in the shape of a photographer popped in for a trim one day and went away all fragile. However, Vicky took him up on his offer of a sitting and his fragility went away. He had discovered unimperishable beauty, a knockout bird of vivid brilliance.

But his fragility came back when Vicky told him that soon she would be winging her way to Australia.

"Don't go," he said, "think of all those sharks."

"I'll eat them for breakfast," said Vicky.

Eve Darnley

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Out Came The Navigator

The red-faced landowner came storming over the meadow, demanding to know why the unmentionable driver of the unspeakable car couldn't keep his indescribable contraption on the road.

The driver didn't even know he was off the road. He was listening to the instructions of his navigator and following her word for word. He got out and tried to explain. The incensed landowner felled him with a blow. Then out came the navigator, EVE DARNLEY.

The landowner bowed. "My mistake," he said, "come up to the farm and have a cream tea". Eve is a London model. She was only a navigator by accident. But she wore the duckiest gear for the rally.

Susanne Churchill

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Is That The Operator?

When you’ve got through to the operator after spending a mad thirty minutes trying to get a straightforward number, have you ever wondered what she’s like? You hear her voice, golden and velvet and full of soothing solicitude, and you think my word, how can I blow my top when melody is ringing my eardrums?

“Is that the operator?”

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“I was on fire. I’m better now. When’s your night off?”

An absolutely delicious telephone operator is SUSANNE CHURCHILL of Brighton, Sussex. It’s not only a pleasure to listen to her telling you to hold the line, it’s an education.

Susanne likes fast cars and dress-designing. She designs and makes most of her own clothes, in fact. In addition, she’s a creamy, golden blonde and a joy to the ear of any man who works in an iron foundry or goes to football matches.

Barbara Schwarz

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Come Home All Is Forgiven

It was four o'clock on a Saturday afternoon when Gus left home. He left a note to say he'd gone to the Lake District. It was there, he said, that he'd first seen BARBARA SCHWARZ, who'd come over from the Continent to see Lake Windermere and had stayed to become an au pair girl there.

Gus's father said Gus could stew in his own juice. He'd never met Barbara himself and thought she was like the rest of Gus's dream girls— undistinguished.

Then Gus sent home a picture postcard of Barbara. Mother said, "Oh, my word." Father said, ' Crikey.” He sent a telegram to Gus. "Come home—all is forgiven Stop bring her with you.”

Gus wrote back and said he would if he could, but that Barbara hadn't even noticed him yet. Please send a fiver.

Continental au pair girls make dreamy picture postcards.

Any girl anywhere couldn't look dreamier than Barbara looks here. Want to bet?

Leonora Dietrich

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Achtung! There’s a man looking!

"Well, I don't know, some people,” said LEONORA DIETRICH, glancing curvily out of her West Berlin apartment window. "He's actually looking. Why doesn't he go away and take his ladder with him?"

What made her ask herself a question like that we don't know. What made her stand at the window like that we don't know either. Fresh air is all very well but you need to be dressed for it.

"Go away," she called.

"Eh?" said the man on the ladder. He was nearly falling off it.

"If you don't go away,” said Leonora, “I’ll call the police.”

"I don't care if they do lock me up,” said the goggle-eyed Berliner,”l'm not moving yet. I'm waiting for the matinee."

So Leonora went and hoity-toitily phoned the police. And the police came around and joined the man on the ladder. Leonora looked out of her window again and they all had a lovely matinee show.

Elizabeth Gallacher

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Entirely Feminine

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?

Elizabeth Gallacher

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Nice To Know

Come here, faceache.

I beg your pardon'!

You heard. Listen, cocky, I saw you.

I daresay you did. I ain't the invisible man.

You will be if I catch you at it again. You been looking at my girl. Yeah, I was thinking what a nice bracelet she was wearing. I’d like to get one just like that for my mother. What's her name, by the way? I’d like to introduce myself.

Oh, you would, would you? Why?

Because I'm six feet one and you're only five feet four. Any other questions? No, none. Sorry I called you faceache. Now I know you better I can see I shouldn't have. If you’d really like to meet her then her name's ELIZABETH GALLACHER and she’s extremely nice to know. And see that guy who’s just bought her a drink? He’s six feet three, he’s her brother, and he’s nice to know too. Come on over.

Pardon me, I got a train to catch, I gotta be in the Isle of Man by midnight.

Jackie Ross

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Trendy Traveller

It was a long way from Manchester to London when salesgirl JACKIE ROSS set out for the big city. Well, it's a long way from anywhere when you have to walk. Passing the railway station Jackie thought she'd do it the easy way, so she bought a ticket and caught a train.

She met an awfully nice feller on the train. He shared a packet of biscuits with her. But when he said that his wife didn't understand him Jackie knew there was only one thing to tell him.

"I'm not surprised," she said, "you're all over biscuits crumbs."

Jackie came to London to find work as a model. She hardly needed to look because enterprising photographers found her first. Naturally, who could miss such a beautiful brunette with a figure of 38-24-37

Caroline Spencer

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They’re So Natural and Uninhibited

You've got to hand it to the young generation.

They're not a bit inhibited, and they're so natural they make the rest of us feel how wrong we were to accept that gooseberry bushes had another role beside that of producing gooseberries.

Look at young CAROLINE SPENCER, looking ever so uninhibited in the park. Of course, there was no one about. Just a little riot going on under the trees where fellers were duelling with each other and panting "Hop it, I saw her first."

Caroline just sat there and took no notice.

Jane Mercer

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They Make Passes Now!

You remember that old gag—fellers never make passes at girls who wear glasses?

 They swept that one under the carpet years ago.

You can’t wonder at it when you look at JANE MERCER. Jane, in or out of horn-rimmed specs, is ravishingly eye catching.

Some feller who saw her passing by in a mini was so dazzled he didn’t even notice her glasses. “I was looking the other way,” he said. Then there was the nice chap who helped her off the bus and got into such a tizzy over her blonde allure that he forgot to get off himself and went all the way up the Strand when he really wanted Waterloo Road.

Jane is a secretary, as you’ve no doubt guessed. You can see from her glasses just how efficient she is. Aside from that she has lovely legs and a bewitching figure measuring 37"-23"-36".

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.

Cherry Lennox

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Student in a Cold Climate

It wasn't half rough. The wind was whistling and cutting little old ladies in half, practically.

Student CHERRY LENNOX of Edinburgh was caught in the teeth of it, as it were. Och, what a wee howling gale. Took her kilt right off. In the nick of time, as it were, she found shelter in an old Scottish roundhouse, whatever that is. Probably similar to a Kentish hophouse.

Anyway, it served to keep the worst of the chilly breezes at bay for Cherry. And while she was able to hold on to her Scottish rainproof she felt she could endure all else, as it were. Even the loss of her kilt.

Whipped off by a quirk of the whistling wind, it was, and went sailing over heather and burn, it did. Never mind, there's always a silver lining. It just showed how perfectly intriguing Cherry's patterned stockings were.

On a day when whistling wind equals student sans kilt in a cold climate, things aren't wholly miserable. And if Cherry can laugh about it, so can you.

Vicky Ashley

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Making a Move

It wasn’t our idea to get up and go. We were in one of those groovy night clubs full of sensationally-clad birds accompanied by all that’s brightest in the way of fashionable male escortage.

Fashionable male escortage—as far as London is concerned—is something made up of the grooviest young men circulating the scene. The scene, of course, is any place in town where these breath-taking birds and their laughing boys congregate.

We were right in the throes of an incurable infatuation for a girl called VICKY ASHLEY, who was having a dizzier effect on our eyes than the revolving light. Was she gorgeous or was she not? She was. We asked a waiter to take her our card.

“Hold it, priceless,” he growled, “do I look like a waiter in me Spanish shawl and me string beads? Like me toreador boot in yer eye, would yer?”

We made a jolly little riposte to show him all we wanted was to drink wine with Miss Ashley, at which he called over a couple of laughing boys. We had to make a move. We didn’t realise people could take such quick offence.

As we left. Miss Ashley was looking lovelier than ever, and no wonder—she’s the newest and most photogenic model in town.