We ran across these CDs and thought they’d be an interesting share. The covers are sloppily Photoshopped, but we certainly can’t fault the choice of models. Some are semi-famous actresses, such as Claire Gordon, just below, and others are pin-ups. Most of the photos were borrowed from the British cinema magazine Picturegoer, which was published from 1921 to 1960. We haven’t featured that magazine yet, but we’ve a mind to buy a few because they’re widely available online. As far as the music here goes, each CD is a compilation of twenty-five or thirty 1950s pop songs, but we haven’t heard them, so we can’t comment on the quality. Sloppy cover work often hints at hastily compiled music, and perhaps substandard sonic quality, but you never know. Anyway, we have fifteen scans total, with Julie Glenville, Sheree Winton, Barbara Joyce and more.

This sci-fi themed photo shows British actress Lorna Wilde, who appeared in such films as The Body Stealers and Son of Dracula. She’s seen here in an image from the British glamour magazine Girl Illustrated, probably 1971 or 1972. 

The moment we saw these two versions of 1950's Road Floozie by British author Darcy Glinto, aka Harold Ernest Kelly, we asked one question—why are they so expensive? The sellers were both asking five hundred dollars. That seemingly has to do with the novel being pulled from circulation and republished with certain passages stricken, making the original difficult to find. What was so offensive in 1950? Certainly the idea that a woman would choose life on the road, moving from place to place, sometimes man to man, would have been uncomfortable. But Glinto was probably done in by the double rape of the main character by two truckers, one white, one black. In America, in 1950, black hands on white female flesh was a no-no, in literature and real life. Heck, it’s still a no-no today, in certain backwaters. As his career went on, Glinto/Kelly continued to have legal troubles in both the U.S. and Britain, and eventually he closed Robin Hood Press, which he owned, and sold the rights to the name Darcy Glinto. He moved to the Canary Islands and later died there in 1969.

The pantheon of pulp illustrators is populous, which means it takes time to get to all of them. Today, we finally get around to celebrating yet another artistic genius, with three great pieces from British painter Reginald Heade. He did his work in the 1940s and 1950s, and his sculpturally coiffed, long-legged dames, often garbed in draped dresses, make his style instantly recognizable. You can see quite a few more Heade pieces at the website goodgirlart.com. 

1958’s The Secret of ZI, aka The Patient Dark is one of more than 150 novels written by British sci-fi author Kenneth Bulmer under his name and more than a dozen pseudonyms, but we doubt any of them have cover art quite this evocative. It’s by Brian Lewis, who we’ve never heard of but who did a bang-up job here with his painting of a hapless prisoner with a salad bowl on his head. So, what is the secret of ZI? Apparently, it’s the knowledge that will enable humanity to defeat an evil race that’s holding the Earth in slavery. They’re from Wall Street, er, we mean, the Planet Alishang. Anyway, we’ll dig into this one and get back to you. Maybe ZI’s secret will work in the real world.

German actress Christa Linder appeared in about fifty films, including serious productions such as Negresco and I giorni dell’ira, as well as tongue-in-cheek efforts like Kommissar X—Jagd auf Unbekannt, aka Kiss Kiss, Kill Kill, and I racconti di Viterbury—Le più allegre storie del ’300, aka The Sexbury Tales. This shot from the British magazine Girl Illustrated dates from 1968.

Imagine our surprise. The Goodtime Weekly Calendar of 1963 has offered up its first fully clothed model of the year. The bad news is she’s also wearing a wicked expression and holding a rope. The model is unknown to us, but since she was photographed by filmmaker Russ Meyer, it’s possible she appeared in one of his films and we simply don’t recognize her. Anyway, lovely shot, cool jeans, great hair, scary rope. As for this week’s observations, you have to marvel at the Goodtime guys’ self confidence in using original material. And really, why not? Who needs Shakespeare? Why quote Oscar Wilde? No sir. When you can come up with the word “nutwork” all by yourself, clearly classical wit and wisdom have been outshone. And that one about how a waitress catches more passes than a football player? Sub. Lime. More quips below, but shield your eyes. This is incandescent stuff.

 

Nov 18: “Some of the prettiest girls in television sell the dullest products.”—Mae Maloo

 

Nov 19: Now you know why TV stations called themselves nutwork.

 

Nov 20: “The hardest decision for a woman to make is when to start middle age.”—Warren Hull.

 

Nov 21: “Overheard: ‘If my boss thinks I’m going to work 35 hours a week, he’d better look for another girl.’”—Irv Kupcinet.

 

Nov 22: A waitress catches more passes than a football player.

 

Nov 23: One world: Where America has most of the world’s automobiles and Russia has the most parking space.

 

Update: All we have to do is ask. A reader identified the model for us, and even pointed us toward another image, which you see below. She is a British model named Iris Bristol, and besides posing awesomely for photos she had several uncredited roles in movies and television, including a blink-and-you-miss-it bit in My Fair Lady. Thanks to Jo B. for digging up that info.    

 

 

The National Insider was a second tier tabloid, but even it sometimes got the facts correct. The headline on this cover is true—Diana Dors did have a two-way mirror in the bedroom ceiling of her house in Maidenhead, just outside London. Insider didn’t break the story. Rupert Murdoch’s News of the World had done that six years earlier and had shared all the tawdry details with British readers in a heavy breathing 12-week serial. But a good sex story can always be reprised, so Insider decided to dredge the details up again for American readers today in 1964.

At age nineteen Diana Dors had married a man named Dennis Hamilton, who turned out to be a paranoid, violent, and domineering louse who smacked her around and took over the management of her career. Professionally, he steered her away from serious drama into fluff cinema, while privately he initiated her into a life of sex parties and voyeurism. In addition to the two-way mirror in the bedroom ceiling, there were also assorted 8mm motion picture cameras scattered around the house so they could film their bacchanals and later review the action in their leisure time.

Hamilton, who you see with Dors at bottom on their wedding day, died in 1959. An autopsy revealed that he had been suffering from tertiary syphilis. This terrrible affliction may have contributed to his erratic behavior, but it’s equally possible that his type of bad simply came straight from the core, and his need to hurt and control was a character trait, not a symptom. In any case, The National Insider replayed all the tawdry details of the marriage, and the issue must have simply flown off the newsstands, because the paper ran with the story again the very next week, at right. The interest is understandable. Dors was glamorous and very beautiful, and tabloid readers love nothing more than seeing a goddess in the muck.

So there you have it. Whether Dennis Hamilton unleashed something in Diana Dors or she was always a voyeur party animal we don’t know. Or maybe it was a little of both, exacerbated by her reaching the height of fame as the prim fifties gave way to the swinging sixties. Interestingly, most of the information about the wild parties came from Dors herself at first. It wasn’t until after she died of cancer at age 52 that other people spoke up. But they were often kind with respect to Dors. That could be for many reasons, but we like to think of it this way: they must have had an awfully good time at those parties.

We’re showing you this August 1966 Continental Film Review for one reason—Raquel Welch. She appears in both the front and back of the magazine, and the latter photo was made while she was in the Canary Islands filming One Million Years B.C. That photo session featuring a blonde, windblown Welch was incredibly fruitful, at least if we’re to judge by the many different places we’ve seen frames from the shoot, including here, here, here and especially here. There had not been a sex symbol quite like Welch before, and in 1966 she had reached the apex of her allure, where she’d stay for quite a while.

On the cover of the magazine are Christina Schollin and Jarl Kulle, pictured during a tender moment from the Swedish romantic comedy Änglar, finns dom? aka Love Mates. Inside you get features on the Berlin and San Sebastian film festivals, Sophia Loren, Nieves Navarro, Anita Ekberg, and more. CFR had launched in 1952, and now, fourteen years later, was one of Britain’s leading publications on foreign film. It was also a leading publication in showing nude actresses, and in fact by the 1970s was probably more noteworthy for its nudity than its journalism. The move probably undermined its credibility, but most magazines—whether fashion, film, or erotic—began showing more in the 1970s. CFR was simply following the trend, and reached its raciest level around 1973, as in the issue here. Fifteen scans below.