Bobby Shaw
/Some are Wonderful others are Beautiful
You’ve heard about the London Bobbies. It’s traditional for every visitor to say how wonderful they are. Occasionally they kind of let you down by nicking you for a traffic offence, but you can take it happily when they pat you on the head and see you on your way with their own inimitable cheer—“No hard feelings, sir, see you in court.”
There are other Bobbies in London, of course. There are quite beautiful ones like BOBBY SHAW, who is an absolute dreamboat at creating exquisite floral decorations. The only thing more exquisite is Bobby herself. In a sports car she’s more decorative than a cluster of orchids and as she rides by you go weak at the knees with the magnitude of your appreciation. Old ladies naturally think you’ve been drinking and next thing you know a kindly member of Alcoholics Anonymous is asking in the friendliest way if you’d like to be cured.
Cured?
What, and let all the beautiful Bobbies of London pass by without stirring those unforgettable deep-down pangs of appreciative anguish?
It’s all right, friend, just let me lie here.
Liz McEwen and Jennie McEwen
/How To Like Your Sister
Well, as LIZ McEWEN was telling her friend Lynda on the phone, it’s easy if your sister doesn’t mind you borrowing her record player and doesn’t yell her head off if she finds you’ve also borrowed her best nylons when you go out on a special date. And, as JENNIE McEWEN said, it’s no problem at all to become very fond of Liz and she would if only Liz didn’t hog the telephone all the time and wasn’t always leaving things like horse saddles around. “I’m fed up with tripping over them and falling flat on my face,” said Jennie.
Well, as Liz said, what’s a lovely elder sister for if not to tidy the place up occasionally ?
Nina Wartenburg
/A Call For Willi
Some privileged guy called Willi Fritz, we think, is on the receiving end of this phone call from NINA WARTENBURG, blonde Berlin secretary who's wearing the boots to keep her toes warm.
We hope Willi is sufficiently appreciative of how attractive his caller is, even if Nina is only ringing to tell him to send over a small joint of Dutch veal. In fact, we hope any butcher's boy appreciates a pretty secretary as much as he does a young calf.
Crystal Farmer
/Crystal Clear
As sparkling as clear champagne is CRYSTAL FARMER, secretary and glamour girl.
It's a pity fellers can't win beautiful brides like Crystal in a decent competition, where if you can think of a suitable slogan for hot chestnuts, and send it in with three coupons, you stand a fair chance of winning.
Of course, you can't put birds in a lottery, it would send Women's Libbers raving bonkers— and cross as well—but if you could and if you did, who'd bother about football pools?
No one, if they stood a chance of winning a bride as gorgeously set-up as our Crystal.
Vicky Landau
/Just a Memory
When she left Hamburg some time ago to come to England, VICKY LANDAU thought well, it won't be long before I'm back, there's my dog Rupert and Willi Albrecht from the shipping company, they're both lovely.
But now Rupert the dog and Willi the shipper are both just a memory. Vicky is still here, established in a cosy flat in London and earning her keep by lucrative modelling jobs.
"Naturally," said Vicky in her fluent native tongue to Nigel Merry-weather in a London pub, "I shall go back one day, probably when I've made my fortune."
"Could you speak in English,” said Nigel, "as I only speak German like an incoherent Italian in a wine barrel."
"Oops, you are so funny," said Vicky.
"Actually," said Nigel, "I'm dead serious, you're the most devastating bird I've ever met, and I tell you frankly. I've got designs on you. Have two more double Scotches,"
"I think," said Vicky, "that you are trying to get me drunk.”
"I'll be truthful," said Nigel, "I'm that kind of rotter."
"Englishmen," murmured Vicky, "are fascinating but much too naughty," And she poured her drink down his shirt front and then conked him with a German candlestick she always carries in her handbag.
Leila Schell
/Lovely Anywhere
This could be anywhere, it could be in front of a door in a house in Boston, or outside a door in a house in Manchester, although it’s possible the discerning types would all be able to pinpoint the exact location from the knowledge they could draw from the copper pan above the door.
Any precise information would be received with courtesy rather than with relief as we admit to not being bothered about the location. What we do know is that the lady is LEILA SCHELL, who is French and must be adjudged lovely anywhere. And she couldn’t look more French than she does here, could she? Unless she hadn’t gone blonde.
Leila is an up-and-coming star of the Continental stage and films, so if you’re fond of Continental films and don’t get confused by all that dubbing, look out for her at the local Bijou.
Christel Birkholz
/Call of the Wild
THERE are some people who like the comfort and security of an armchair better than anything else. The only thing that gets them out of it is the chime of the ice cream van or the coo-hoo of the blonde who wants to share it. If Sir Francis Drake or Christopher Columbus had been like that, nobody would have gone anywhere and the Red Indians would still be undiscovered.
That might have saved Tarnation Jake from being scalped, but Jake being what he was it was the best thing that could have happened to him. To him the call of the wild meant getting there first and keeping it all to himself. Ornery old coot. After he lost all his hair it hurt him too much to keep his hat on and he got sunstroke. Poor old guy.
Nice to know the sense of adventure actuates CHR1STEL BIRKHOLZ, otherwise we wouldn’t see her in the great outdoors looking like an intrepid explorer’s beautiful dream. Intrepid explorers don’t only dream about hidden cities and odd-looking aborigines. They have moments when they’re just like the rest of us.
Christel, when she isn’t responding to the call of the wild and getting lost, is a West Berlin fashion model.
Wake up, Charlie, here comes the lollipop man. Go and get two orange-flavoured ones.
Sue Seymour
/It's a Great Life
You don’t have to wear a big Stetson and be a Texas oil millionaire to enjoy life. All that money helps, of course, but it’s not a necessity. As a millionaire you can own an ocean-going yacht and still get lost in a storm at sea, and what has life to offer you then if there’s no lifebelt in sight ?
You’d be better off as an ice-cream man on the beach at San Remo. Girl who doesn’t own any oil wells and only takes home what she earns as a shorthand-typist in a London office is SUE SEYMOUR. Life to Sue is simply great. She’s eighteen years old and she swings along with the London scene.
Big business executives work late and get ulcers Sue twists and shakes on the dance floor and has fun. She likes a game of tennis, a galloping horse and the deep end of a swimming pool.
Millionaires sweat over the tape machines and bite the ends off their Havana cigars over each share fluctuation. Sue carries on making the most of life, and in her gay pursuit of the great outdoor pleasures she takes her tent in case of rain.
The weather was fine on this occasion and if you know of a more idyllic combination than a tent, a quiet glade and sweet Sue, then don’t keep it to yourself.
Geraldine Gerrard
/Model Miss
If you’re as talented a model as Miss GERALDINE GERRARD, who is currently in demand with the fashion houses of Birmingham, Liverpool and Manchester, then you really are a model miss.
Marie Graham
/Look, What About My Legs?
"Eh ?" said Higgins the butcher.
“You heard,"said housewife MARIE GRAHAM. "What about my legs ?"
"Lovely," said Mr. Higgins.
"I ordered a leg of pork and a leg of lamb," said Mrs. Graham, "so where are they ?"
"Oh, them legs," said Mr. Higgins.
"Yes, them legs,"said Mrs. Graham, "for my dinner party. Some like pork and some like lamb and I'm hoping to please them all."
"Well, tell you what, invite me," said Mr. Higgins, "and I'll bring the joints round myself."
"Oh, be my guest, do," said the lovely young housewife.
"I'll have beef myself," said Mr. Higgins, "so I'll bring a steak too."
Debora Stewart
/Deb's Delight
If you’re reading the latest James Bond thriller, put it down for a moment and concentrate on DEBORA STEWART, who is our idea of the girl James would most like to read to him while recovering in hospital from being blown up by a load of Persian dynamite.
All that aside, the delight of Deb at this particular moment is her new mini-dress.
If you must know, it delights us too. Debbie looks so enchanting in it that irrespective of whether we’d been blown up by Persian dynamite or a Molotov cocktail, we’d like to have her to read to us too. It would be joy personified to our tender ears and it wouldn’t strain our eyes, either.
Well, you can’t help going overboard for the modern girl when they look so indescribably gorgeous. To think there were times when girls wore bustles and dim people didn’t even know how many legs they’d got. You couldn’t even see their shoes.
Of course you couldn’t, because they wore elastic-sided boots.
Dear Debbie, can we be your Valentine?
Maria Montez
/Mexican Dream
All the way from Mexico came a dream.
After the excitement of the Olympic Games there, MARIA MONTEZ couldn't settle to her work in a dress shop in Mexico City, so she came to Europe to participate in the happenings.
She finished up in London. The happenings in Paris and Rome were extremely Continental. Being pinched all the time was blush-making.
"And by perfect strangers, no doubt," said Sir Harry.
"Perfect? Senor," she said, "how can you say perfect when you mean naughty?"
"Ah, a good question," said Sir Harry.
"I do not mind a pinch here and there," said Maria, "but not by naughty men."
"I used to be naughty. I've grown out of it now," said Sir Harry.
Jutta Srippipatana & Ingrid Stengert
/Come and Join Me
The dark girl is JUTTA SRIPPIPATANA and the blonde who came to join her is INGRID STENGERT, and they’re both models in West Berlin.
Brenda North & Jane Rennie
/The Modern and the Married
For the traditional modern look, which is a kind of lovingly irreverent regard for sartorial non-conformity whatever that may mean we recommend BRENDA NORTH. She’s long-legged, black-sweatered, rain-coated and really as sweet as you can wish.
For the happily-married look, which is a kind of I’m-tickled-to-death-I-did-it look, who is a better example to set before you than JANE RENNIE who was wedded some months ago and still thinks everything’s absolutely divine? She may seem more interested in her long underwear, but strictly on the level her main hobby now is hubby.
Brenda has no thoughts of getting married herself yet. Well, at just eighteen everything, even time, is on her side, and there is the world to discover and all its excitements to explore. Who wants to get married? (It’s absolutely stinking the way that boy next door dives under his car whenever he sees me, he knows I’d love to help him change his tyre).
For that hap-hap-happy look, how about Jane, our dimpled delight.