MARIA ASSIN had no idea where to find the car jack, and she wasn't even sure what a car jack was like.
Still, she did find a thingumabob that fitted over the nuts.
There was that other Jack. Jack Puddinglass. But he went off with his fishing rod as soon as they arrived.
You can't be more useless than that.
Still. Maria looked ever so nice in her bikini-style ensemble of delicate white and you can't say fairer than that.
Span No 167 - July 1968
Being a student, as most people know, has a number of advantages. Look at Claire Hart for example (and who wouldn't want to in any case!). She manages to go to France every summer, live there for two months, and it costs no more than if she stayed at home in England. She stays with a French family, who have a daughter who exchanges with Claire and lives with her family in England for the same two months every year.
"It's a marvellous way of doing things,' says Claire. "The food's wonderful, I'm accepted as one of the family, and I improve my French without having to study at all. They have a big estate, some of it given over to vineyards, and I help out some of the time with the lighter work. If get bored with that, there's a good social life in the town a few kilometres away. And if I want to go off for a couple of days on my own, there's nothing to stop me.
She told us she isn't really bothered about what she'll do when she leaves university. She'll have a good education and she'll be able to pick and choose. But nothing too restrictive or dull; routine jobs aren't for a girl like her. "Maybe I'll try translation work, as a freelance. That'd be a good start. could find my way into films, something like that . . .'
Students these days tend to be unhappy with the world they live in, and protest about it. But Claire has the answer, and it doesn't involve any demonstrations or sit-ins. If she's happy with the way she's living, it's because she's the sort of girl who doesn't take things sitting down; she gets up, goes out and changes her life so it suits her the way she wants it. Whether she goes into films or anything else, we're sure she's the kind who'll go far.
Mustang No 3 - 1967
Ah, your Highness, to whom do I have the honour of looking at ?
To whom do you have the honour of what at, you uneducated villain?
What do you mean, you scurvy knave of ungrammatical idiocy?
say, you're in a bit of a royal tantrum today, aren't you. O Queen of all the Mountains? I was only asking, like.
You've got a sauce. Coming up to me as if you had blue blood instead of something like whitewash. Get ye hence or come dawn and ye shall dangle from my yardarm.
Now now, O Magnificence, you're not in your purple barge, you know.
No, come on, stop all this royal fiddle-faddling and tell me who that utterly delightful dolly is sitting on the fence in your royal park.
Oh, smitten, are you? You've got a hope, you miserable peasant. That, O Per rival of small account, is a student princess. That is to say, you imitation dogsbody, she is a college student in Coventry, England, who is a princess among all students, and unless you keep your big, horrible eyes off her I'll have you scuppered.
Oh, really? How exquisite. What's her name?
Her name, O Insignificance, is KELLY RAND. Well, give her my card, will you? Tell her fit crowns.
Spick No 176 - July 1968
Lively and lovely lass who likes the great outdoors - she's quite some tennis player, too is HELEN BAXTER. If we had to fall into a bed of nettles miles from anywhere, then Helen is just the girl we'd like to pull us out.
Helen is a receptionist to a doctor, So she'd know - we hope what to do about nettle rash aside from finding those large leaves reputed to ease the sting.
Helen is twenty-two loves Latin American music and has vitalistics of 39"-23"-38", so that as well as being a lively outdoor girl she is also a very shapely one.
Spick No 118 - September 1963
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.
French film star FRANCE ANGLADE has a problem. Its all to do with the fact that the French film directors consider her too beautiful to wear all her clothes.
So, France has played any number of roles in a permanent state of lingerie-clad allure.
This is fine for the French cinema audiences, because there’s nothing Frenchmen appreciate more than lacy lingerie. But France has reached the point where she’d like to wear a dress or two.
Nevertheless, in her latest film she was persuaded to take on a part in which she appeared in black lingerie throughout, and you can see just how delectable she looks.
France may feel a little fed-up but we don’t.
Beautiful Britons - No 143 - October 1967
There just isn’t room in the boot for two long legs and a spare tyre. The tyre will have to go. A guy can always throw out any amount of spare tyres or old haversacks or empty beer cans, but he wouldn’t and couldn’t throw out BUNNY. Bunny is too beautiful. Bunny is a private secretary with an extremely high I.Q. So much so that her favourite reading matter is Egyptian archaeology. If you know anything about the pyramids you could have quite a conversation with Bunny.
Span No 132 - August 1965
It isn't only the fellers who like the long legs of JEAN STEWART, a Glasgow salesgirl. Some horses she knows also show a fine sense of appreciation. The talkative one said, "But who'd be a horse? You can't whistle a girl, you can only neigh. And when you neigh they come and tell you that you've already had your oats. What a life.”
We've lately been following MARIE GRAHAM and NICOLA TAYLOR around. So would any man who had an appreciative eye for gorgeous legs and briefest mini-skirts, but that's not to say you wouldn't make it up to your wife by taking her home a dazzling bouquet of roses.
We found Marie and Nicola having trouble with their car.
"Great skyhooks," said Nicola, the one in the rugby league jersey, "talk about modern technology when you have to tow the thing home. I don't know what my husband will say.
Marie said she knew what hers would say. "Where's my tea and muffins ?”
The engine was an absolute mystery to both girls. They looked into it and all over it, and Nicola poked it with a stick and Marie gave it a kick. It never said a word. It didn't even cough. That's what comes of being just a mass of unresponsive metal. Anything else or anyone else would have taken one glad-eyed look at the two mystified but gorgeous dollies and sparked into instant life.
We certainly would.
Well, we would have if it hadn’t been for our aching back.
Hello, hello, hello then. Who are you?
I might ask you the same question.
I’m a beautiful prince—me name’s Rudolph Twistle—and I say, you don’t half catch me left eye.
You look like a little frog to me. I'm ANNETTE RIDGEWAY LE GREASLEY myself and I’m sorry I only catch your left eye.
Me right one’s pointing in a different direction, watching the traffic on the A30. I say, you aren’t half a corker, you wouldn’t like to take me home and put me in a jar of caviar, would you?
Why?
Well, it’s all on account of the Queen of Diddleheimer and her ravishing daughter Princess Pinnipot. Me and Pinny - no, well, I won’t bother you with the details, but the Queen went off her tiny nut and in a moment of quite execrable taste turned me into a little frog.
Never mind, you look awfully sweet.
You’re joking. No, come on, take me home and put me in a jar of caviar. Then I’ll turn into a beautiful prince again and maybe we could go off to the South of France together.
That would be lovely. But I already have a beautiful prince. So, jump, little frog, jump.
Oh well, here’s me for that lake again.
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.
Student JULIE MITCHELL is going glam. Well, you can't be serious and academic day after day without wanting to leave it all behind at times.
And at these times Julie puts on her dolly gear and her boots and goes out with a photographer friend. It's a happy occasion all round, with Julie looking long-legged and glam, and her friend looking dizzily into the viewfinder.
Well, Julie in a mini makes a dizzy picture for any feller, and you don't have to look into a viewfinder to convince yourself.
Continuing our catalogue of pin-up pets whom you can paste into your albums, here are three more.
LESLIE PETERS, LINDA GROOM and SUSAN ASHFORD.
"Perce.'' said KATE McMILLAN. who wanted to change into her bikini, "put the hood up."
"Okay,” said Perce, "you carry on and I'll keep my eyes shut.”
"You sure you're not looking?" said Kate after a few minutes rustling.
"Actually, I'm all agog," said Perce, "what a procrastinating old hood, it won't move”
Kate is an Ayrshire typist and curvy. We don't know what Perce is, except that he knows when not to cover Kate up under the hood of his car. Saucy old Perce.
If you saw CRYSTAL FARMER go by in her lace-up boots you'd think she was better than a Christmas pantomime.
Crystal was out in the country on this occasion and country boys were doing a lot of goggling. Most of the really dynamic birds inhabit the towns these days and country boys feel a bit deprived. Once upon a time they had rosy-cheeked milkmaids to chat up over the churns, but now the cows are all plugged in to vibrating electricity. Next it'll all be done by computers, and if the cows kick and the nuts and bolts go flying, serve the boffins right.
Crystal likes the country. She's one of nature's birds. Make a lovely milkmaid, she would.
"Oh, those good old days," said Clara.
Who's Clara?
Just a nostalgic cow we know.
