Girl who belongs to the modern way of life is BRENDA NORTH, although you can see she likes communing with countryside as well as getting into the groove on the dance floor.
Brenda is slim, lively and likes to go, go, go, and if she looks a little dreamy when she’s out-of-doors, well, the girls in the mod mood today are dreamy, aren’t they?
There are a great many bonny girls in Scotland, all of whom catch the eye as they run for a bus, but it was quite ridiculous that secretary JOAN GLOVER should catch the eye when she wasn’t even running down the stairs.
Life is like that, not just for Joan but all of us. And because life is the way it is for all of us, life is fascinating.
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.
A busy bee called Bertie buzzed furiously around all day—so much so that the other bees thought about reporting him to their union. "He’s flogging his wings to whiskers." they said. But Bertie cared not, neither did he cease, for he was inspired by the girl who came to the hive to see him at work. The girl was honey-blonde ANITA DALE of Earl’s Court, Kensington, and honey bees naturally buzz for honey blondes.
Croydon secretary’ with all the appeal every secretary should have is JUDY COE, swinging girl in a swinging scene.
That coal bucket is just a gag, of course. Judy doesn't think in terms of coal buckets and she thought this one was a converted Roman helmet and wanted to know which museum we'd nicked it from.
But she looks a dish in a sweater, don’t you think?
“It’s all wool,’’ she said, “and saves me having to light the fire. Do you remember where I put my hat?”
It was a good question but we had no idea how to answer it.
There comes a time in the life of the happy bachelor when he's willing to relinquish the wheel to a girl.
When Monty took off for a country inn with PATSY FRENCH, he realised he could only enjoy the view of the road. What he had in mind originally was a lunch of bread and cheese and pickles with Patsy, but halfway there he decided bread and cheese and pickles may be the staff of life but they don't represent absolute bliss.
Bliss absolute can be the Beatles or Tom Jones or Elvis Presley, or even a Chopin melody on a grand piano. To Monty it was a view of Patsy in the driving seat. So he stopped the car and gave her the wheel.
What a vision. What a driver.
It mattered not that she drove up hills in top gear, took corners on one wheel and parked the car so that he couldn't get out on his side. Patsy in the driving seat was absolute bliss and so were the pickles.
We’ll take two lumps. NICOLA TAYLOR makes a lovely cup of hot char, and that's not all. She also has lovely legs and in her mini-dress makes just about the prettiest picture around the house you would wish for.
Of course, if you’re about eighty you probably still conjure up pictures of Mistinguette when you think about legs. You're very welcome, but we'll stand by Nicola.
During the war, there was an awful ding-dong going on in France, and Stanislaw Warsava was right in the thick of it, serving with a Free Polish unit. Still, there were far lovelier things to come. Off-duty behind the lines one day he met the most entrancing Polish girl who had escaped her suffering country and made her way through France.
They came to England, married and settled down in Carlisle. They had a lovely daughter later on. Here she is.
EVA WARSAVA, born of her happy Polish parents, can't help being addicted to Britain. She's eighteen now and lives in digs in Streatham in south-west London. She came to London to take up an office job but found it too monotonous. It was all biff-bang on a typewriter. The bell kept pinging.
Then she met a photographer. He said, "You'll do, you're a living doll." Eva thought he was trying to make impetuous headway, but he was only trying to tell her she was a natural as a photographic glamour girl. In the end Eva took his advice and became a model.
Wasn't it lucky her father-to-be met her mother-to-be in France? If he hadn't, Eva might never have happened. It makes one go all weak at the thought.
Stylist tress chic is SUSAN McKAY, not only in her clothes but in her job. Susan works as assistant to a prominent Glasgow hair stylist, and having her put a kink in your hair if you’re a customer must be a joy.
Customers being of the fair sex only, we’re left without a kink—apart from the one the psychiatrist told us about—and we rather wish Susan would stop lying around on walls and beaches and join our barber’s shop.
Very few barber’s shops have lady assistants, and those that do don’t have any quite like Susan, with her gorgeous brown eyes and her photogenic legs.
Looking pretty in the Berlin park is SYLVIA TERNES, and if the season is a cold one and the outfit an anti-rain affair, the style of the whole thing is just right.
Not long ago there was an awfully nice nurse in the local hospital around the corner. Her name was MANDY PETERS.
Then along came a patient who turned out to be a professional photographer, and all for the sake of his art he told Mandy what a lovely model she would make. At the time, she was a lovely nurse, about which all the other patients were indescribably content.
However, Mandy thought it would be a nice change of careers, so now she's given up nursing and has become a model.
She's a brown-eyed brunette, loves the countryside and, of course, looks absolutely saucy in a rural background.
London secretary PEGGY SMITH uses the springtime and the adjacent countryside to breathe in lots of fresh air.
Peggy commutes daily to and from her office, and to keep going and still look attractive as well as efficient what's more re-invigorating than bags of fresh air free from the dust of London?
In week-end dress and filmy frills. Peggy is cutely complementary to the spring sunshine, and it all helps to take her back to the office on Monday morning with a smile. It also helps her to see off the week’s work without coughing her way through Thursday and Friday.
Peggy is 20. is pretty good as a secretary and pretty attractive as a girl, and if her expression above is indicative of a sudden realisation that she forgot to get her boss to sign his post last Friday evening, well, that can happen to anyone, can’t it?
What's more Irish than Bridget?
And who's more Irish than BRIDGET McKENNA? Only the leprechauns.
Bridget emerged lustrous and dark-eyed from Dublin to make her way to Britain, where she'd heard they liked swinging shapes. And with her shape of 37-24-37, she felt pretty sure she wouldn't go unnoticed.
She was right. The photographers fell all over her in a manner of speaking. She's a glamour model now and shares an apartment in Islington with another model from Dublin, and this part of Islington has begun to sound just like old Ireland.
No, young Ireland.
Do you wake up in the mornings with Swiss cowbells ringing in your ears? Are there still spots in front of your eyes as you walk over London Bridge to your office? Do curt cabbies make you want to spit? Are you driven off your simple nut by the never-ending chat of the insurance man?
Do you collect old pieces of wood and large lumps of timber because you can’t bear to see them littering the countryside?
If so, have a comfy, consoling heart-to-heart with HELEN MILLIGAN, for Helen is a girl without complexes and frustrations and a piece of wood or a large lump of timber is no bother to her.
That’s what comes of being educated at a very exclusive and very expensive girls’ school. It teaches you to approach life with a very clear-cut idea of how to get your picture in the papers. Simply look extremely enchanting in a flowered frock and a frilly petticoat. Don’t have anything to do with mixed-up people who carry some large bundles of firewood.
Honey blonde JANE BREWERTON has recently got married.
Notwithstanding all that permissive talk which floats carelessly about, Jane wasn't interested in anything but the old-fashioned way of doing things. In white, in church and in June she was married.
Dental receptionist and glamour model, Jane is still happy to be a housewife, and is settling down so well to being a lovely one that hubby is going around murmuring, "Fantastic—why didn't we think of this before?"
And he doesn't just say that because of her delicious Continental cooking, you know.
