Marilyn Ward and Pauline Gorvin
/Boutique Buy
There were these two girls, you see. One of them runs a boutique in
Bournemouth and the other one came in to buy something.
Blonde MARILYN WARD runs the boutique and the girl who came in to buy was PAULINE GORVIN. So, round the hangers they went and the conversation was something like this.
"Ah. Um. I wonder?"
"Yes, it's fab, isn't it? Try it on."
"Oh, but how about this one?"
"It goes awfully well with a coke."
"I like plum juice. Do you like plum juice?"
"I like it in a plum pie. Were you out with that boy from the travel agency last night?"
"Cheeky devil tried to sell me a ticket to Singapore. On a banana boat of all things. Oh, isn't that sweet? Is it my size?"
"Costume jewellery is all the rage with that style, you know."
"Yes, I know. I wish you didn't have such a marvellous stock; I'd like to buy so much of it, but I can't, I'm saving up to go to Spain”.
"I went there last year. Aren't those matadors slinky?"
"I can look after myself, it's those poor bulls I feel sorry for. Do you know, I really think I like this dress best."
"Honestly no, really it looks super."
"Well, I'll have it."
"But, Pauline, it's the one you were wearing when you came in.
Inga Svenson
/Inga Comes To Stay
Born in Oslo, Norway, INGA SVENSON grew up to be a Scandinavian beauty and then, when she was twenty-one, came to England.
She came as an au pair girl to perfect her English and to see something of the country and its people.
Now, having been with us eight months, she wants to settle here. Keen on ballet, Inga would very much like to enter this world of beautiful ballerinas and exquisite music.
Long-legged and lithe at five feet six, with vitalistics of 35-23-35, she's just right for a ballet company. For a girl with such artistic ambitions, it would be frustrating to end up as a courier for Norwegian visitors to London. But Inga isn't going to be frustrated if she can help it.
Marie Fitzgerald
/Nature Is Lovely Too
People who live in concrete jungles hardly know about the beauties of nature except when they go to the Costa Brava once a year and see all the striped umbrellas and the consumable octopi.
Outside the towns nature still thrives. Inside the towns there are lovely girls to look at, and this so compensates some lovers of human beauty that they don't care if they never see another blade of grass.
MARIE FITZGERALD, a secretary, is considerably easy on the eye. Put Marie in an outdoor location and she looks even better. But what about the trees, they're lovely too, ‘aren’t they?
What trees?
Your Thoughts
/Are You Thinking What I Am Thinking?
Do you think this looks like someone we are all very familiar with?
Thanks for sending in these pictures. A nice set of pictures that I am sure many have not seen before.
Jennifer Taylor
/On The Subject of Jennifer
Last month we were extremely good to all our impressionable male readers. We introduced JENNIFER APRIL ANN TAYLOR of Bristol to them and all those who couldn't wait sent us heavily underlined letters asking for more. They said if they didn't get more they'd die or something.
So, all right, here are more scintillating pics of Jennifer and anyone who is suffering from excruciating love at first sight can come and join us on our steamed fish diet. Apparently, if love hits you as excruciatingly as that, steamed fish three times a day brings you back to cool, man. We're so infatuated with Jennifer ourselves that we're not eating at all. We're just drinking apple juice. For your information, all it does is make you feel like a windfall. Dear lovely Jennifer, when can we go to the moon with you?
Dawn Grayson
/Finders Is Keepers
If you ever find a girl as lovely as DAWN GRAYSON lost in the world, try to persuade her that finders is keepers, then you can take her home and introduce her to mum and dad.
Ute Schaeffer
/Girl in a Whirl
Oh, it was just one of those things about a contract with a titanic film company with oodles of lolly tied into it, hardly something to affect the calm of Berlin girl UTE SCHAEFFER. She merely spent the day doing bubbly cartwheels.
Kim Scott
/Dutch Treat
It was a rainy day in Holland when the plane arrived from London Airport. Then all of a sudden it was bright summer. Air stewardess KIM SCOTT had alighted.
What a treat for the Dutch. All the men in the arrival lounge stood on tiptoe to look tall, dark and handsome. One of them invited Kim home to look at his Dutch bulbs, but Kim said she never went anywhere with strange men.
"Who is strange?" he said. "I am not strange," he said. I am most normal and very handsome," he said. "My Dutch bulbs are beautiful," he said.
Kim was ever so polite but ever so firm. She's used to making that kind of impression on men all over the world. She made a most undeniable impression on us. Our photographer asked her out to dine.
"Dutch treat?" said Kim.
"When they're as beautiful as you," said our photographer, "we don't believe in Dutch treats. Let's put it all on expenses."
Cheeky devil.
Sarah Cunningham
/Comfort For The Computer
The computer in the head office of the bank in London lost its nut at seven-thirty one morning. By the time its fairest operator, SARAH CUNNINGHAM, had arrived punctually at nine it sounded as if it was in the last throes of mechanitis tremulus, which is computerised Latin for the chronic shakes.
"Now, now," said Sarah, giving it a pat "stop clanking, you silly thing. Let's see exactly what's wrong with you.
And she fed it a relevant medical question. Out came the answer in a kind of fed-up frenzy.
"Where's me breakfast?"
It was the absent-minded night watchman again; he'd forgotten to feed the computer. So, Sarah, who picked up a lot of common sense as well as maths and French at college, fed it a lovely meal of machine oil and iron filings and the comforted computer happily got down to work on overdrafts.
Susan Fairfax and Lynda Farrell
/Its Only A Game
It was going to be a jolly game of outdoor shuttlecock and all that lark. Engaged in this sporty venture were SUSAN FAIRFAX, left, and LYNDA FARRELL.
Immediately prior to the opening rally they crossed rackets, and tallyho, they were away in a fencing match, prodding each other with subtle pokes of the round end of the rackets.
"Mind my eye," cried Susan.
"Mind your eye my foot," cried Lynda, "mind my suspenders, you mean." "Voila," cried Susan, scoring a prod.
"Sacre bleu," cried Lynda, "there goes a new stocking."
The rackets clashed and the duel went on.
"How's that for a crafty one?" said Susan.
"You're tripping me, " yelled Lynda.
"Don't worry, "said Susan, "it's only a game."
It might be only a game, but poor Lynda landed with a distinct thud and at the finish there were not only bruises but a state of general disarray. Oh well, girls will be girls.
Susan Douglas
/Consistency
Currently way up in the top ten of pin-up favourites is Kentish charmer SUSAN DOUGLAS, so consistent in her elegant appeal that she never looks anything but delightful.
Some may come and some may go but Susan is on the list of those who appeal yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Well, let's face it. Girls like Susan would stop the traffic even in a Martian get-up.
Well, so they would, of course.
Ever see a sports shirt that looked better than this one? You can buy one in any top-class store (men's sportswear) but you won't look like this in it.
Susan has recently been modelling Spring fashions for a well-known house, and any moment she'll be lined up for the parade of summer wear. As we write, there's snow on our boots.
But the thought of Susan and summer and this view of that smile - well, who's making any fuss about snow-logged boots? Only our feet.
Toni Townsend
/Design For Living
Down in the leafy, bowery woodlands of Hampshire you'll often go neck-over-croppers if you don't know your fences and you're not all that attached to your horse.
Do you hunt, then?
No, do you?
Not on a horse. I say, I saw the most larky bird at Aniseeda's Discotheque last Tuesday.
Yes, and when she found out what an unutterable nit you were she stuck you on the turntable and you went round and round and round, and everyone thought you were top of the pops. Now then, down in the leafy loveliness of Hampshire, where all is just as nature made it, there dwells a lovely maiden called TONI TOWNSEND.
Cor, you talk just like Bonnie Prince Charlie going after a date with Flora. That's our Scottish ancestry. Our modern heroine is Toni, she's an advertising assistant but her real design for living is designing. She's a natural at dress design, makes all her own clothes and looks so good in them she takes our minds right off the landscape.
I daresay, but this larky bird I was telling you about. Took one look at you and screamed the place down. She thought you were something from outer space. Why did she think that? Because you look as if you've just landed and are having trouble with the oxygen.
Beautiful Britons No 154 - September 1968
Linda Dean
/Adventure Trekker
London model LINDA DEAN got a little bored with all the trendy potpourri of the capital, so she thought she'd go off on a trek of adventure.
She went on her bicycle.
To Clapham Common first. That was a bit crowded. So on to the wilds of rural Surrey. Great Scott, all that leaf mould and all those rabbit holes. It could have been anywhere, and it was just right for trekking.
Got a bit warm, though.
Better in just a sweater.
"Better for me or better for you?" said Linda.
"To be honest, me," said the photographer.
Marilyn Ward and Nicola Taylor
/Someone Forgot
First of all, if you haven't met them before and you're kicking yourself in consequence, these two Bournemouth dollies are brunette NICOLA TAYLOR and blonde MARILYN WARD.
They went down to the beach for a swim. It was the kind of day that called them to the warm waves. Only when they got there someone had forgotten the bikinis. Nicola meant to remember for both of them but forgot, and Marilyn meant to remind Nicola to remember but she forgot too. Never mind, they looked ever so glam in their best nylons and the sunshine was marvellous.