Dark and vivacious MARIA HOWELL is a model with a mission. To make enough money to retire to sunny Spain.
Maria knows all about Spain. Part-Spanish herself, she’s worked both in Barcelona and Madrid.
Now she’s back in England, working hard, saving hard, and dreaming of the day when she’ll return to the land of oranges and ole! (And what about the matadors?)
Girl just making her way in the London scene of modelling is Canadian-born LISA SCOTT, and you all seem quite mad about her. Your letters are quite hysterical, but you'll feel better when you're about fifty and you've changed your hobby to gardening.
THE day-to-day routine of pretty LINDA CROSBY consists of taking dictation from her boss, for Linda is a shorthand-typist. She is also photogenic enough to be a glamour girl, but for the moment is quite happy working at the office and taking life as she finds it.
Linda is eighteen, is a Lancashire girl and with statistics of 36-23-36 looks naturally good in a sweater. At 5' 7” tall she admires men who are six-footers, and as far as types are concerned it’s Latin for preference.
Probably her Latin preference stems from the fact that Linda has worked in Spain, and there is nothing quite like the courtesy those matadors out there extend to English girls. It makes a girl feel real good.
So, any time you should meet Linda yourself remember you'll go down as quite a type yourself if you can manage a little Castilian courtesy. You won’t have to fight a bull. Mainly, it's a few old world bows and a kiss or two on the hand. Cor!
The farmer's boy came whistling over the fields. He was carrying a haystack. He was a strong lad. Then he saw GAIL JOHNSON, an absolutely ravishing, blue-eyed blonde.
Gail thought she was all alone. She did wonder why a distant haystack looked as if it was moving about, but not being an agriculturalist she put it out of her mind.
It was a hot day and just right for gambolling about in undies. Then the haystack stopped moving and a face came out from under it. The face of the farmer's boy. Gail gave him one warning.
"Don't you dare look or I'll fire six rounds into you."
The farmer's boy couldn't help looking. Corks, what a peach, he thought. So, Gail fired six rounds. They thudded into the haystack. The farmer's boy was ever so relieved, any one of those rounds might have injured his appetite and he was looking forward to pork pie for supper.
"Missed me," he said.
Gail reloaded.
The farmer's boy knew when he was well off. He picked up the haystack and ran. He tripped over a furrow and the haystack fell on him.
"Serve him right," said Gail, "shouldn't have such goggle eyes."
Some husbands go off to football matches on Saturday afternoons, but Val's husband stays home to photo-graph her. What a way to make Saturday afternoons full of light and joy. Better than all that mud flying about and somebody bashing you over the head on the way out.
Some husbands have the oddest hobbies, like stripping wallpaper or collecting whizzbangs. (Whizzbangs are fiery blondes whom they hide in the garden shed hoping their wives won't notice).
Well, now, isn't it lovely that VALERIE HOOTON has a husband with the most ravishing hobby? His hobby is Valerie. What a smashing feller. What a hubby, what a hobby.
Val's ambitions, apart from maintaining her position as hubby's hobby, are to travel extensively and to learn to ski. Imagine all that lovely snow and sun, and Val as well.
Val has a hobby of her own. Frank Sinatra. Only on records, of course. And she likes eating out. That's not a hobby, however, that's a way of life.
Housewives have stopped being mere wielders of brooms. Now they're sexy and glamorous, like Val. Before she was married Val used to be a secretary. Now she's a housewife, a mother and an absolute doll. Naturally, you'd all like to have a hobby just like Val, but you need to be tall, dark and handsome, of course.
In fact, we’re absolutely positive that ROSANNE STUART is just the girl we’d most like to get lost in the woods with. Well, she used to be a really keen girl guide and knows all the best ways of tracking through the bracken.
No, it’s all right, we don’t want to get out.
We like being lost.
The lingerie look is one that certainly suits JULIE SCOTT. As for colour, you can take your choice of black or white. Julie herself prefers to put the accent on sophistication in black.
But, being delightful to know as well as lovely to look at, Julie compromises in black with a touch of white.
Personally, we think the colour is immaterial— it’s the design that counts. Julie’s original design is blueprinted at 36"-24"-36".
If we haven’t put you in the picture before apropos the purpose currently in the mind of JANE PAUL, auburn-haired lass from Scotland, then let’s tell you now that Jane is set on making a two-year tour of the world. She’s a secretary and wants to work her way from capital to capital of all the most exciting countries that so far, she’s only seen in travel brochures.
Naturally, we wish her bon voyage but not without some regret, for two years is a long time and we’re among the many people who’ll miss having her around. You can’t just raise your hat in farewell to a lass as curvy as Jane and think no more about her.
Young Hampshire housewife JENNY PIPER lives in a fascinatingly rural village, where a stream chuckles its way around the cottages.
But Jenny is quite with it as far as eye-catching gear is concerned. With her long legs, Jenny fits into a mini as if the fashion was made just for her. Bewitchingly, she believes a mini is a mini and you can't compromise.
This is Jenny in her mini that's a mini.
Hence the expression, "Ah, knickers."
"Well, yes, I know they show," said Jenny, "but you don't have to look if you don't want to."
She's joking, of course.
What didn’t we know before? Before what? Eh? Wake up, the milkman’s here. What milkman? My word.
My word nothing, that’s no milkman, that’s FRANCESCA YOUNG, currently catalogued as the cutest, curviest kitten the photographic glamour world has turned its lens on.
Oh, good, so now we know.
Irish from top to toe is BRIDGET McKENNA. Bridget is from Dublin, and there aren't any dollies more Irish than those from that city.
However, there's a great big world always waiting to put out the carpet for green-eyed Irish shapes, so for the time being Bridget is taking a look at London.
London is taking a look at her in return. It's a fair exchange, except that a lot of old buildings and bridges can't always be equated with a curvy Irish shape of 37-24-36. But Bridget is settling for that.
“Now just to settle an argument readers, which do you think are the most attractive? You know, we sisters have terrible rows over which is best.”
“Like I was saying, some prefer white, others prefer black.
“But the best way is to put it to the readers.
“Black stockings, black underwear, black suspenders, or flesh coloured nylons, garters and white undies?"
“I'm sure we can safely leave it to you though, can’t we? ‘Over to You’ Your vote will decide."
There are various ways of being called to the bar. If you’re a prospective barrister, dead keen to do all you can to facilitate the functioning of the law, all you need do is pass an exam that would fill the ordinary citizen with a sickening sense of his ineptitude in such matters.
The way most of us like is in the nature of an invitation.
“Come on, Bert, over here—where you been? I’ve had six since I arrived and I can’t do me belt up.”
When DIANE KING received her call to the bar it was at a cocktail party, where the sumptuous decor included a corner bar and a high stool for a long-legged lady.
“That’s for me,” said Diane.
“And very nice you look too,” said the mini-skirt enthusiast.
“No, not the stool,” said Diane, ‘‘the bottle of red Cinzano. With soda water, please.”
Petite ANN WILLIAMS it only 5' 3” but every inch is brimming full of talent for Ann is a pop singer all set to make herself easy on the ear of every disc fan. Ann knew what she wanted to be when she was only two, for at that age she was singing to customers in shops, where her mother sat her on the counter while she searched for pink hair ribbon— or should we say pink ribbon for fair hair?
As far as I am aware this was the only calendar that ToCo Published.
