Maureen Hucker

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Modelling in the Rain

To be a really good model, you not only have to be a pretty type — you have to be a pretty tough type. That’s what MAUREEN HUCKER found when a recent assignment took her out into the country and it began to rain.

"Do we stop?” she asked the cameraman, and the cameraman, all wrapped up in raincoat, hat and umbrella, thought she was fooling. "Stop?” he said. “What for?”

“Because it’s raining and I’m wet,” said Maureen, and the cameraman said I’m all right, Jack, why should I worry?

“Oh, gosh," said Maureen, “these pictures could be called Girl and a Shower, and you,” she added under her breath, “are the shower, you rotter.”

Sara Wolfe

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Where Will All The Dollies Go ?

If the sixties are remembered for anything, it'll be for the emergence of the mini-skirted dollies.

Girls have always played a characteristically confusing part in the lives of boys. Boys find no complications up to the age of about 15. Up to that age the girls are around but the boys ignore them.

This makes the girls furious. So, when the boys reach 16 and upwards, when they then become aware there's something corkingly fascinating about girls, the girls pay them out by making life so confusing and complicated for them that life is never quite the same again for the muscular sex.

The emergence of the mini-skirted dollies really put the lid on the traumatic effects. Many a boy just reeled about mumbling, "Oh, my grandmother, I can't even put my head out of the window without losing my eyesight."

SARA WOLFE is a brilliant example of a London dolly making life chronically traumatic for highly susceptible boys. She works in an advertising agency. She wears the loveliest minis.

But now that the midi and the maxi are gradually taking over, where will all our dishy dollies go to? Girls in midis or maxis aren't dollies anymore, they're just followers of undolly fashion. Perhaps the boys won't get such eyestrain, but oh, woe.

It goes without saying that Sara in a maxi would be a different girl. You'd never see her legs and young boys would wonder if she'd got any.

Nicola Taylor

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Anyone Feel Dizzy ?

According to her fans, NICOLA TAYLOR turns them all on, and there's hardly a day goes by without some entirely susceptible Charley boy doesn't spin round until he drops.

Nicola is a Hampshire girl with her own way of looking lovely. She simply remains herself.

There was a sensitive baby elephant which spent all its growing years trying to look like a bunch of flowers. It didn't create any real impact, and one day when it emerged from the river looking exactly like a growing baby elephant, an American lady tourist said, "Oh, how cute, can I buy that one?"

The baby elephant was happy ever after.

There you are, then. If you're lovely in your own way, be like Nicola and the baby elephant. Just remain yourself and don't grow a beard.

Susanne Kent

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Coming Along Nicely

Those finishing schools in Switzerland are all very popular, of course, and when they turn a girl out—if you’ll pardon the phrase—she is usually perfectly equipped to cope with all the trials and tribulations of hard, practical life.

But mostly the first thing the girls want to know about concerns parties.

There were parties for SUSANNE KENT, naturally, and all bang-up and on the ball. There was the future to consider, of course, but that was something to be thought about tomorrow or the day after.

And what else does any ambitious girl want to do except modelling? She has to give the matter no thought at all—it just comes naturally.

If you can’t be a model, you can be a secretary. After that, there’s just nothing. Hardly any girl wants to be a film star these days. Of course, there are those who like to see their pictures up outside cinemas, but it’s not the same as it used to be.

Susanne went for modelling and we’re happy to report that in this sphere she’s coming along nicely.

Nancy Sinatra

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Here Come Those Boots

That was the day.

Down the steps from the airliner they came, polished, gleaming and pointing. Encased in them were the shapely legs of NANCY SINATRA, and by the time they reached ground level the photographers were already putting their elbows in the other feller's eye. Word having got around that Nancy had arrived in London, loud were the cries of “Come on, Nancy, walk right over me, baby—I want to show your boot marks to my best friends

Ooh-oh.

Serve the fool right. He should have known it was going to hurt.

Nancy took it all in her stride. What a girl. What boots.

Ooh-oh.

Heather Brown

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Heather For Luck

There's a saying that if you wear a sprig of heather it will bring you luck. If you wear a sprig of Scottish heather, it's said you'll never have the misfortune to fall into Loch Ness and be eaten by the monster.

Now then. HEATHER BROWN was on holiday in Scotland and she and her boyfriend were out in a boat. He was wearing a sprig of local heather. He fell in. Heather rescued him. "There you are," he panted wetly, "what luck, it didn't eat me."

"It wasn't there," said Heather, "this is Loch Lomond."

"Never mind," he said, "you're my best bit of real luck, if you hadn't been around you couldn't have pulled me out."

Heather giggled.

Jenny Price

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Lovely & Learned

Anyone can be an egghead. All you need is the right kind of brain and a fixation on philosophy or economics or the kings of ancient Thebes. In that way, you not only become an egghead but because of your great learning you’re an old fogey before you’re thirty. You can’t talk about anything except logarithms or Theseus or Queen Nefertiti.

Cardiff student unlikely to ever turn into an egghead or a fogey is JENNY PRICE. She’s simply too dishy. There are female eggheads who wander around museums looking at Egyptian mummies, but that’s not for Jenny. She’s going to be a cool, elegant, indispensable, photogenic secretary.

Thank goodness for that.

Marion McGregor

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Breezy

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?

Joan Paul

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Mini-Mania

It’s not something you need go to a psychiatrist about. JOAN PAUL doesn’t, but some people do.

“Rest comfortably on the couch, please. Comfy? Nice and relaxed? Good. Now then, what’s the trouble?”

“I’ve got a mania.’’

“Oh, have you? So have I. I was thinking of going to a psychiatrist about it.” “But you’re a psychiatrist yourself.”

“I can’t help that, we’ve all got our problems. Now about my mania—it comes over me mostly in the park.”

“Excuse me, but I’m the patient, it’s my mania I’ve come to discuss with you, not yours. Look, see that, I’ve got one leg in the air.”

“Is that your mania?”

“No, that’s my cramp. My mania is to do with mini-skirts. The whole thing is a terrible worry to me and I can’t sleep at nights.”

“Why is it such a worry?”

“I keep thinking they’ll go out of fashion. Ouch, there goes my cramp again.”

When one realises just how scintillating Joan is in her mini, one can’t help sympathising with all men who worry about when it will all end.

Camellia Tiran

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Remember That Persian Garden ?

Perhaps you've never been to Persia. They call it Iran now, but it's the same place.

The poets and the songwriters used to write lovely things about Persian gardens. Well, here's a ravishing bloom straight out of a Persian garden. CAMELLIA TIRAN. She's been in England for quite a few years and at eighteen she's still blooming.

Camellia makes dresses and gives them all a touch of Persian enchantment, and if you know any nice concubines tell them they'll look exquisite in anything Camellia turns out. There's nothing like a bit of the old Persian enchantment to add lustre to a saucy Fatima.

Christine Norton

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Lovely Learner

When we were young we thought we knew it all. We thought, as every generation thinks, that we were the ones who’d discovered sex. We forgot that when Shakespeare was young his generation discovered it too.

Not concerned with any burning questions which don’t concern her academic pursuits, CHRISTINE NORTON is a student whose spare time is fully taken up with intensive studying.

Now and again she does break out, however, such as when she entered the Miss Enfield beauty contest and delightedly found herself a finalist.

Other than that it’s pen and pencil-biting sessions over books and logarithms and what were the economic reasons that led to the French Revolution and why Lincoln was so passionate at Gettysburg.

It’s a lot to cram into the mind of any lovely learner when there is so much gay living going on elsewhere. Christine admits she sometimes wants to drop everything and go down to the river for a trip in a canoe. But if she wants to qualify as a linguistic secretary or as a junior executive on a woman’s magazine, she’s got to forget canoes and things.

Maria Assin

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It Wasn’t For Want of Trying

There was this rubber canoe, see.

It was a new acquisition for MARIA ASSIN. Maria works all week in an office and spends all week-ends out-of-doors. That way a girl manages to keep pretty and vital.

Maria had the darnedest trouble launching the canoe and even more trying to get into it. It couldn't have been more difficult trying to get on the neck of an elephant with a rope ladder.

There's a classical method of launching and paddling a canoe, of course One, you swoosh it into the water. Two, you sling your left leg over the starboard side. Three, you sling your right leg in. Four—as Maria found out—you fall flat on your face over the port side.

No one can say Maria didn't try. She did. Both classical and un-classical methods. The canoe remained obdurately determined, Maria likewise. It became a fight to the finish.

“Pardon me,” called a wag from dry land, “but watch out for the torpedoes.”

“Blow the torpedoes,” said Maria, “I’m in at last and now it’s full steam ahead.”

It’s one thing to be an obdurately determined young lady, and quite another to be over-confident.

It wasn't the torpedoes.

It was the canoe.

It gave a wet cough and Maria went overboard. Not for the first time, either. “You’re all wet," called the wag from the bank.

“So are you," said Maria.


Janette Goodman

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It Can’t Be True

No, the fact is we didn’t think fashion model JANETTE GOODMAN would really go for these old-fashioned longs, no matter how much they’re currently being worn by those in the know. We really thought it couldn’t be true when Janette popped up in them, but as they say in the best technical tomes, the camera simply doesn’t lie.

Janette herself seems uncommonly tickled by them — figuratively, that is (we presume), not literally.

Well, she looks all right. They may be terribly old-fashioned, but Janette exudes no atmosphere of grandmother’s day. Maybe she needs a bustle for that.

Maybe a tall bonnet would also help. Janette doesn’t think so. The longs are back in fashion, she says, but not bustles or bonnets. So there.

Claire Peters

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In the Money

It’s not like winning the pools and saddling yourself with a trunkful of fivers that you don’t know what to do with. (You all know how difficult it is to spend money when you’ve got such a lot of it).

You’re in the money in a different way when you’re handling other people’s cash, as CLAIRE PETERS does. Claire is a cashier and what a pretty one. You kind of fall into her green eyes and forget your change. “Sir—your change.”

“Never mind all that humdrum lolly—what’s your phone number?” Honestly, some people.

LuLu

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Yoo-Hoo, Lulu

They ran the Derby at Epsom not so long ago and everyone got quite worked up. The runners went so fast that the only way of finding out how many were in the race was to count the legs and divide by four.

 One of the Epsom visitors was international singing star LULU.

 The cameramen caught her on the rail in her K.O. hot pants. Lulu just projected a lovely smile and they all said, "Good on you. Lulu, you're even more photogenic than the gee-gees."

 "I bet you say that to all the girls," said Lulu.