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.
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.
You must have heard of “Daddy Long- legs” turned into a very successful play and musical, but if you haven't heard of the feminine equivalent in the shape of MARY GRAHAM, then this is where we bring you up-to-date.
Mary not only has long legs; she also has lovely legs. Plus, a flashing smile and a cute walk which makes bus conductors—and others—whistle.
Mary, naturally, is proud of her long legs — what girl wouldn’t be? but will not commit herself about bus conductors. All she will say is that any bus conductor who likes her leggy walk enough to whistle is the kind of man who should certainly be a conductor in preference to a driver.
Drivers, says Mary—and others—are there to keep their eyes on the road, while conductors are only there to keep their eyes on their passengers. If they whistle after me when their bus passes (says Mary) who am I to decry their taste and discrimination?
So, said KIM FOSTER when her bubble car gave out adjacent to a secluded glade, because it could have happened halfway round Piccadilly Circus.
If a beautiful girl like Kim has to take an enforced rest, Piccadilly Circus is just not the place. But this is.
Kim’s a showgirl, and in the showgirl tradition has the longest and shapeliest legs, as well as beautiful blue eyes.
As soon as Kim settled down to get her knees brown, however, the glade suddenly wasn’t so secluded any more. An ice-cream man came up and tried to sell her a lolly, and a guy driving a furniture van stopped to ask her the time.
The seniors and prefects from the nearby college came out early from college and wouldn’t go home to tea. A young man on a bicycle offered her a meat sandwich and an old man on a horse offered her a lift. It’s fun being young and beautiful.
It's a very fine difference, indeed, between one fashion and another. In floating skirt and frills, TONI SEARLE deliciously illustrates how fine is yesterday's fashion.
Looking extremely summery, Toni matched the colourful environment of the countryside near her home in Kent. If Kent is the garden of England, Toni is one of its more enchanting blooms.
Weekdays she's a typist. Weekends she's a dream.
Ravishing dolly CHRISTINE PORTER thought it was never going to happen, the date with her boyfriend. He hadn't rung or sent a note or anything. Then a boy on a bike arrived and said Handsome asked could she make the Knights' Castle at ten o'clock. The Knights' Castle is ah Arthurian disco.
"Ten o'clock? That's late," said Christine.
"Yes, well, he went down a pothole," said the boy, "and took a long time coming up."
"I'll kill him," said Christine, and spent an hour at her dressing table making herself look absolutely beautiful. That's enough to slay any feller, especially one on a late date.
No model has hit the glamour headlines with greater impact than lovely JUNE PALMER, one of our consistent top pops. June is the perfect answer to the fallacy that gentlemen prefer blondes.
June, a London girl, is a full-time model and loves every minute she spends in front of a camera. She is, in fact, a perfect pin-up in every way.
Very frisky indeed were the passing breezes on the day MARION McCRECOR took a trip into the country, catching her just at the crucial moment of climbing the fence.
Ah, well, it’s fun to be alive and what’s a fence or a frisky breeze when you're young enough to take both in your stride?
When she’s not doing six things at once for her boss —and chasing up the junior who makes the office coffee—lovely ANNE STEWART is doing odd jobs in her flat or sailing boats off the Hampshire coast or hacking over the Downs. As a secretary Anne is both beautiful and efficient, and as a wielder of a paint brush or a knocker-in of nails she’s no less beautiful and probably just as efficient. She’s a dab hand with a screwdriver and knows what she's doing with a brace and bit. As you lie in your deckchair, doing nothing but waggling your toes in the sunshine, aren’t you just a little mortified that you don’t even know what a brace and bit is?
Anne, by the way, loves to travel and is saving up to buy her own car for use on the next trip abroad she makes. There's hardly any need to mention that she’ll be able to do her own maintenance on the vehicle.
ANNE MATTINGLEY is a firm believer in fresh air. So, of course, the first thing she docs when she tumbles out of bed in the morning is to sit on the doorstep and do her breathing exercises.
After she's touched her toes a few times she feels a new girl. What was wrong with the old one? Nothing, as far as we can see. Everything looks in fine shape, at 37-23-38.
If you often have wistful dreams about someone tender, affectionate and absolutely ravishing who would make you blissfully happy without having to go off to a desert island, you're probably on an all-male expedition to the icy wastes of Greenland.
One girl you'll almost certainly dream about as soon as you see these pics of her is PENNY LEIGH.
She's ever so ravishing.
She likes riding, swimming and motorbikes. She can ride a motorbike like fun. Want to go pillion with her?
If so, hang on blissfully or you'll fall off.
Most of you know that adaptability and housewifery go hand-in-hand. Take the case of MAUREEN BEECH, for instance. Maureen not only runs a home, she is also a fashion model and the holder of the title " Miss Brighton and Hove Albion 1965.” Besides adaptability, how's that for getting around?
A work of art more often than not is something they put on a pedestal or hang on a wall and is frequently called a museum piece. There’s the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo and MAGGIE McCULLY, only don’t try hanging Maggie on a wall, even at a Bond Street gallery, or you’ll find yourself in a six-foot frame and with a bump on your head that’ll fit a half-pint skid-lid.
Of course, if you’re a lover of art and subject to fragilistic trembling’s in the presence of the Mona Lisa or the Venus de Milo, you won’t be without palpitations in the presence of Maggie, either. As the epitome of all that is inspiring about the modern girl,
Maggie is even better than a work of art.
She lives and breathes and loves a sleigh ride.
Some Irish housewives have got a lovely way of frying bacon; others have the most bewitching way of looking all cuddly.
We know a very bewitching Irish housewife. She's JANE DIXON.
Her way of bewitching a feller is to flash her Irish eyes at him. Irish eyes are soft, limpid, saucy and provoking. You can write poetry about them and get ten marks out ten from teacher for same.
You can certainly write poetry about Jane, and don't be put off by her trendy see-through. Keep looking into her eyes until you go all glazed and then you'll be in the mood to write the dreamiest poetry ever.
It doesn't have to rhyme; it just has to have a lilting flow.
I'm LESLIE LANGHAM.
I live in North London, it’s rather super there and some of the boys are awfully good at Whistling. I suppose they’re training to be football referees. I have a most interesting job. I’m a demonstrator of office equipment. That’s where I find a mini-skirt has its problems. Whenever I’m demonstrating a desk with self-locking keyholes, I seem to be all legs. I’m always saying, “Oh, pardon me,’’ and adjusting my skirt, but everyone is awfully sweet and office managers never seem to mind a bit.
I have to be with it, of course. I can’t not wear a mini, it would be an unbearable drag to dress in trousers, but sometimes I’m not sure if office managers are paying proper attention to my demonstration of an electric typewriter.
It’s very flattering, I must say.
