Original subtitles

Bites,

camera,

action !

Starting with a mere idea,

a motion picture grows slowly.

When craftsmen of the industry

think and talk it into something more tangible,

a synopsis or outline.

One screenwriter or many then rework this

into a treatment and finally a shooting script.

As each day shooting is added to this reel,

the idea becomes reality.

This sealed container guard 6500 feet

of exposed color motion picture film,

completely scored,

edited and with a compening soundtrack.

This long thin ribbon of celluloid

will move through a projector

24 frames a second,

90 feet a minute

and it will run exactly 60 minutes,

one hour, a very small segment of a day.

That into the cellulose base of this tightly wound roll

have gone months of preparation,

weeks of work

and the creative talents of many,

producer, director,

writer, actor,

cameraman and editor.

These and merius more have all contributed

to its shiny surface.

So then this cylinder holds more really

than the photographic emulsions and chemicals

of a positive 35 millimeter print.

It carries the dreams of its creators.

Its real test comes when placed in the dark

intricate projectors

that explode their magic

across the screens of America.

And really the hopes of months ago come alive.

The following 60 minutes contain

intimate moving portraits of women.

This film was made by adults.

For adults.

It is truly erotica.

It was a day unusual for autumn,

warm but not wet with heat.

As though summer were giving way

ever so grudgingly to fall.

A day that sent me searching from the city

to a small piece of woodsy-dale

where I'd played and dreamed when younger,

with a boy

who had taken

and then moved on.

The remembering had made it a day of wanting,

of craving fulfillment,

of yearning for an intimacy so close

and somehow frightening

that I felt only safe with it here.

Alone

with no eyes pawing me,

no hands taking advantage

of the sensations crowding

to the very surface of my skin.

Even the air against my skin

had a very personal touch.

The soft breeze like millions of tiny fingers

caressing my body

as it whispered seductively through the trees.

It may have only been minutes

or perhaps hours

that I lay there exposed.

The searing shafts of sun

playing havoc with my body.

Separating me finally from my last garment,

letting even closer its hot

burning eye to probe my bareness.

My pores opening under its warmth,

breathing,

almost speaking love.

So hot.

How could it be so hot?

Or is my body simply a mirror

of my mind pushing me on?

I hadn't come here for this,

but I had to have it.

A cooling of the past.

A washing of body.

A cleansing that would perhaps satisfy its appetite.

Dull its feeling.

Quiet a little, it's wanton screaming.

Water against skin is like many hands

moving quickly against you.

Cold, yet warming you.

Making you aware

as it seeks out the contours of the body.

And then finally the stream and I were one.

Its cleanness and supple strength calming my thoughts.

Putting me at rest.

And I knew then I had to move on

and back to my city.

And the endless streets of men's eyes.

Each one, a bolder invitation.

But I felt stronger now.

And perhaps I could survive through another week.

The chase that men pursued with me.

And even perhaps

return again to the past

and my love of tree and sun and water.

Then as I left the water

and clasped the towel around me,

I knew I was wasting myself here.

I knew then surrender was close,

inevitable.

And I was ready.

Now don't get nervous, folks.

I mean like this ain't all that happens.

They are not quite a cast of thousands

but kind of arty though, huh?

Oh, incidentally my name is Sam Stilson Snark.

The middle name Stilson that was Pop's idea,

he was a plumber, you know.

That was his favorite ranch.

The old man was real proud of his tools.

That's all he had really.

I mean he didn't have much of a home life.

You see mom was a plumber too.

Boy what conversations they used to have it didn't.

I mean like I was a sensitive type kid

and well I didn't gain no weight

until I began eating alone.

I think that's when it began.

I mean me wanting something better

than crawling under houses.

Pulling chains all day.

Getting muscle bound with a plunger bit.

I mean you can walk into a bathroom

just so many times and it finally gets done.

Anyway I'm a white collar man

now I'm public relations director for Toppa.

T-O-P-O-A, that ain't no soft drink, folks, neither.

It's the amalgamated plumbers association of America.

Oh yeah I'm still in the business but

I moved out into the parlour now.

Pretty cute, huh ?

You see what we got going here

is a little goodwill movement

sponsored by the association.

This ain't no training film, it's more like

a kind of exploitation picture on bed.

Well to really level with you

people just ain't washing as much.

So they don't wash they cut down in the plumbing fixtures

no more to and tree bathroom ??

and if they don't use the fixtures they got as much,

they don't wear them out.

So there goes your repair maintenance and replacement

right down the drain so to speak.

I mean things isn't such a bad way

in this industry you might even say it stinks !

And some of the customers sent in to healthy neither.

Let me give you an example.

I'm holding a little forum

kind of a help clinic down in a Greenwich Village.

So in the question and answer part one

clown who I am glad incidentally

was ?? says

"what's with the ??",

without the washing bit, you got more time for other things.

Okay so he's got a point.

But

if he ain't bathing,

who's going to want to do any other things with him.

Of course, this decrease in bathing is nothing new.

We were fighting this thing in England

after the Middle Ages.

For instance, Queen Elisabeth was considered

to be one of the cleanest chicks around.

I mean let's face it she was the queen right.

So listen to this from the Encyclopedia

under facts on the bad.

I quote.

Queen Elizabeth bade wants the month when she needed her or not.

Now this ain't nothing personal against her,

but if she's only going to once a month shot,

what do you think the peasants are doing ?

Here's another quote, a proverb from the same period.

"Wash your hands often, your feet seldom,

your head never."

This explains the wigs, huh ?

Everybody went bald,

no rubbing, no circulation, no hair.

Now look at this kid hair.

I'll admit she's over doing it a bit

but she works outside,

she's a car hop and the exhaust

films in the smart, well you know...

Here's a kind of an interesting sideline on bathing types.

The one day she's a scrubber.

The other two are more the rinses and the dunka types.

This can here is the dainty type

in a trade she's what we call a kneeler,

but the main thing we're pushing folks is

it don't matter whether you're a scrubber,

a soaker or kind of dainty dripper,

get the habit.

Now this is a kitty wading pool,

but this ain't exactly a kid,

and if she stood up to wait in it,

the house lights come on and we're out of business, but

again we're trying to prove a point.

Even when out the proper facilities,

a body can keep clean and enjoy it.

You're right, it's a garbage can,

and that ain't no leftover drumstick.

You may think we're getting way out

with these offbeat type bathtubs,

but if you studied the history of bathing,

what these girls are in now is luxurious

compared to what they used to have.

For instance, right after the industrial revolution,

some cooke invented a bathtub with gas pointers

underneath it to

heat the water which was great.

He just overlooked the fact

that it wasn't safe to sit down.

This of course started a trend

to an astounding sponge bath

or the slosh and sprinkle method,

which is alright but just don't provide

the luxurious feeling the complete dunk.

I mean, think about it folks,

the bath is the last I post the privacy

comfort.

Sure you're gonna wash to get clean but

the relaxing,

I mean who likes to read on a feet ?

You can't blame the kid.

Even new garbage cans would make me nervous.

We had a lot more footage on this girl

but her skin began to fade.

Didn't photograph well at all.

We're not asking you folks to rub yourself raw

or drown,

but you know how it is

in the advertising to make a point

you're gonna want, you gotta have...

Well, let's face it, you gotta lie

and people notice and they enjoy it,

I mean it sells.

You tell people use this kind of soap.

You don't harm your skin

it washes your clean and one bar lasts six years.

So what did the people do?

They laugh and say that guy's nuts,

what a liar,

and they go out and buy this soap to prove it.

Now how's this?

Cute, huh?

Of course you understand we don't want you

folks doing these things.

I mean like more shtubs is for laundry,

but if you don't want to take your clothes off

to wash them,

sure it's cookie but

we believe anything that's clean is good.

Weird, huh?

As like the Chinese torture bit,

but here again folks another ??,

oh I mean facet, of thinking clean.

The kids got tender skin.

She loves showers but the spray bugs her.

We don't want you buying eyedrocks.

We want you should get help to the water softeners.

Dig?

Crazy, huh?

I used mine for everything, but this...

I even wore it sometimes.

You know another thing that hiked the industry

was the big deodorant campaigns.

It was like so who needs a bath?

A few squites and you're good for an auditory sets of tennis.

If you want to play alone that is.

Sweet, huh?

A baby bath.

Again, folks, a little common sense.

We don't want you throwing the kids out of their tubs.

Let's be honest, kids is about the dideous people are is,

and in fact should be using the big tubs.

These things will make them around shoulder.

Here's a happy little frolic

and folks these kids ain't active.

They like to be clean.

We just didn't grab these kids off the streets.

They had to fill out question is

you got to be careful these days.

They got organizations now.

You wouldn't believe it like we got one girl

of a sweet and nice type.

So we got a question :

what associations do you belong to?

She writes in MPOA.

"Mud packers of America."

Then it was this YASWA.

"Youth against Stagnan Water Association."

And here is man's best friend.

We got a film so clean

that strong hot came out of retirement.

Seriously,

this dog's a former grad of the canine corpse.

A very high type dog, you notice the pelt

twice a week shower and pedicule.

You see folks,

this is the way we want people thinking.

Of course another thing we're fighting is price.

People are conditioned.

Cartoons jokes,

they're convinced plumbers are so expensive that...

Let me give you an example.

A wife calls her husband at work,

says hot water heater don't wipe.

Should she call the plumber?

The guy says something like

"We'll have to sell a kid to afford the service call."

And why don't she fool around with it until he gets home.

Got the picture?

Okay, she lights a match,

looks on an eight and folds with it, and boom !

A broken home.

The kids got no more and no hot water heater later.

The last problem is the business of plumbers

being lewd characters.

I remember my vice service call.

A gal calls and she says

"Something's not wakin' in the tub."

So I grab my tools

and a clean shirt and all the way over

I gotta admit I kinda get like a vision.

I mean I'm human too, you know, a kid.

So I get there and a little anxious

pull back to Clayton and

she's right, there's something not working.

Two things.

The drain and her husband pal !

But look folks,

forgetting the commercial aspect of this whole thing,

Bathe and his hair to stay,

I mean even if you're like him, orbit,

you know way out of this world,

where did they drop ya?

You're right, buddy.

Right in the old H2O.

Folks, we've got a problem.

What you're looking at

is the latest family type advertising effort.

our company is going to market our merchandise with.

You see, we own a bear ranch.

And that's one there.

No, I mean there.

Bear skins ain't expensive like me,

but they can take a lot of handling and

still wear good

and hold up well against the pressures

of the elements.

The Sannessy and...

well, the elements.

Of course most people buy and bear

use them for rather formal type fun.

Balls, banquets,

premieres

you know them, fancy type Hollywood openings.

Actually we don't push their use

for beeching and weenie bakes.

But they are versatile.

Sand and chiggers just kind of brush

loose easy if you do find yourself

entertaining informal like.

And of course, they're great for dens and

denning parties.

Bear beside being a durable piece of skin

has the soft luxurious feel of skunk.

I mentioned at the beginning we had a problem.

You see, our company simply ain't selling much.

And bear ranch ain't no hobby with us.

By trapping them skinning them and churning them

adds up to mighty costly overhead.

And as the saying in the trade goes,

it's not the skins you got hanging.

It's what's being bird that counts.

It ain't that we haven't been advertising either.

We even made a TV commercial.

One of them modern types with

beat nicks and coffee drinking.

Everybody actin' carefree and silly.

It didn't sell a skin.

Of course you can't really appreciate

a fur behind a bunch of beard.

Them gold tees them fellas wear

just ain't a good background for bear selling.

Let's face it there's nothing bear about her.

Anyway the association of bear breeding

has come to our aid and is helping us

with our latest advertising effort,

and we kind of expect a big return.

Another selling point for bear

is this skin covering the lady.

It ain't skimpy.

It couldn't be and do the job.

This particular number is our after five models,

so popular in the Porter region.

In fact, that's one of our slogans.

"The sun never section of bear skin."

It wouldn't dare.

I hope this has given you all a kind

of feeling and yearning for bear.

We've tried mighty hard to provide you

with an educational approach to this

very underrated fur,

and of course at the same time

reduce what you might call an

unhealthy inventory of bear.

?? the saying gold folks.

We're loaded for bear.

My name is Captain Bagget Hype.

I am a sailor, a man of the sea.

For the sea I love it, don't you know.

As one of its most prolific chroniclers

its history has etched in my mind

as deeply as the charts of the shows off the behaviors.

Its glorious past is filled with heroic figures.

Nelson, Tharraga Jones, Sir Thomas Lipton,

a brisk one he.

But today I wish to add another name

and introduce to you as well

his newest innovation in sailing.

I speak of the man who has tread on tradition's toes.

Commander Tukesbury on the Clyde

and his 20th century concept of sports sailing.

The all feminine crew

or as he calls them,

damsel deck hands.

It's a day for it what?

Enough wind to fill the sails,

enough sun to cut its chill

and a trim yaw craft to carry us.

But let me not digress and move on instead

to the meat of our story.

The sea and tradition are words much alike.

Both ringing with the sound of authority and greatness.

The staunch and unmoving as a watertight bulkhead.

Yet Commander Tukesbury has split the main cell

so to speak by providing the distaff side

a seat,

a share of sailing in a man's world

and on a man's vessel.

Our newest pioneer has a long list

of seagulling thirsts and achievements

that would stretch certainly from tiller to poop deck.

A true vision arranged yet not without critics.

Or his latest achievement is stirring

the backwash in Davy Jones locker,

moving somewhat the hallowed mounds of past seagulling masters.

For these men who have since dropped their last anchor

and cried their last "passed off"

were men who steered a narrow course on land and sea.

They trod the decks when a woman's presence on board,

even the smallest fregate,

was an omen of doom,

a harbinger of disaster.

For even as women were accepted at the poles

and slowly exerted their influence and

fought their battles of equality and acceptance in other activities,

they had always been refused

an equal seat below the mast.

A woman's share of the five o'clock martini, yes.

The right to work, naturally.

That nicotine should touch their lips, but of course !

But that their sterns should fit a ship's ?

Never !

Incidentally,

Commodore Tuke's berry is on board today but

being a completely modest individual has asked gallantly

that the lion's share of our pictorial coverage

be devoted to his crew.

I do think it only fair, however, to cover at least

a bit of his past if only in capsule form.

Tuke's berry, so to speak, was born to the sea.

In fact, at the age of 11 months,

was nearly lost to us in a bathing accident

while trying to hoist his diabos

over the side of a bassinet.

Yes, even at that age,

the adventurer was showing through in his briny character.

At the age of 10,

when others were at cricket and crayon,

he was sailing his first ship.

A miniature home craft model, of course,

but the sea where they floating four minutes,

at 12 seconds till his mother pulled the chain,

flushing his dream temporarily.

But here was a sailor,

a man with salt and spray and foam in his soul.

A buoyancy to his make-up that floated him

at the age of 17 across the channel on a raft !

He was, unfortunately, taken into custody

on the other side for his cargo,

is found to be not quite 90 proof

and unsafe for human consumption. But !

you can see, even in those early,

though perhaps not fully successful deeds,

the dairy,

the great heart that pushed him beyond small failures,

that swallowed setbacks without looking back,

that thought always progressively.

There is simply not the time

for a complete biographical sketch, however,

a listing of just a few of his awards

would I think somehow give you an added dimension

of this man's versatility and stature.

At 27, awarded the seaweed medal

with Brian Cluster for his invention of the push button anchor,

a boon to anchor droppers who forgot to let go.

At 31, the tune of fish associations highest accolade,

a 30 by 60 foot tuner net,

filled naturally,

this for his prodigious efforts

in attempting to invent the first seagoing cannery,

and for his rescue of seven of the crew members

that sank with her unamined launching.

We could go on, of course,

but let us move to the present

to his newest of triumphs,

the damsel deckhands,

a decorative trio certainly.

Perhaps in their enthusiasm a mite daring

for we cannot cross and put behind us too many

barriers too quickly, but

you can see that even at sea,

women seek a place forward,

abreasting the waves,

fitting cunningly into the symmetry

and design of the ship.

The pilgrims at Plymouth Rock

in their search for freedom might not perhaps endorse

this much freedom on the high seas, but

certainly would have admired the stern set

of this girl's character,

a truly stirring sight

bringing the great quotations out of the past.

Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!

I have not yet begun to fight.

Never have so many old so much to so few.

And the old captains at their post

shouting their commands into the wind.

Hit the bilge, pump sellers, we're listing off !

Sure up the bulkheads men,

the enemies at point like rage !

Here you see the complete cultural transferral

of woman to shipboard,

a true mating of movements

and in fact a new dance step

in the making which the Commodore

has named "the dinghy drag".

The bilge bounce was considered briefly

but lacked the dignity associated

with Commodore Tuke spray's activities.

Of course with progress must come some physical changes

to ship design,

and they are on Commodore Tuke spray's drawing board

at this very moment.

Oh Commodore,

a truly modest man as I mentioned previously.

The most recent craze of the modern sea-faring world

is a skin diving,

but is it really skin diving,

encumbered by tank, rubber suit,

goggles held at gloves.

Here though we shall again the Commodore's

great passion for detail,

improving and improvising on a bare idea.

This then is skin diving in its very essence.

As it was meant to be before the safety

measures of a commercial world

forced it into its uncomfortable state.

This cruise could not be completely tied out

without at least a reference to the Commodore's next trip.

A voyage I might add that would be fought with peril.

His next expedition by boat

will take him across the Sahara Desert.

Details and plans for...

sailing the Sahara are most secret at this time.

However, he has decided to use a mixed crew of four,

making bridge, backgammon and cribbage possible.

And so we close the curtain of our day at sea.

A look ahead for us all.

A preview of our sailing future.

But now,

now my friends be their wing in the sails,

petrol in the tanks, who cares with the proper crew !

Now really, who cares?

She'll be out.

Before we begin our tour of the botanical gardens,

we think you should meet our guides

who will act as your host today.

That is Mr. Poindexter Gombody

on the left and Mr. Rebenswood-Kartkart,

with the Red Vest, just to the right there.

Immediately after viewing these film clips,

you will meet them personally as well as a tea

where they will assist me in answering

any questions about what you have seen.

They are also going to discuss rebuilding the lawn,

what times of the year are best for planting,

how to seed of the new lawn,

selection of proper fertilizer and so on.

Both of them have a broad background

in botanical research

with AS, SS and a BS degrees to match.

Coupled of course with a great amount

of modern landscape experience.

They have also created a great deal

of excitement, with the publication of their new book

on the advantages of hot house planting.

What they are showing us

is the result of their research

on the cross-pollinization

of the sweet pea with the wild pansay.

A stunning result, don't you think?

You will notice this bloom,

called incidentally the pan-apee,

has a rather new look yet retains

the best features of both flowers.

The stem is a true hunter's green,

while the bulb formation is so delicately formed,

incorporates both of the pastel shadings

of the sweet pea

and the darker hues of the pansay.

The only slight irregularity is in the length of the flower.

Eleven feet is really not a suitable size

for table decoration, but

this is an experimental program

and who knows how big will be

building tables in the future.

Now to the bone.

Hey Charlie, you got the wrong soundtrack on !

Alright, already.

The sex life of the amoeba is much more complicated

than its single cell construction would indicate.

The same might be said of the minute protozoa,

although it is not quite as fickle

as the amoeba possibly because of its physical characteristics,

it suggests a trifle more maturity.

Charlie, what's the matter? You a wise guy?

Somebody labeled all these soundtracks, Ronjo.

Get another one on !

To continue our pictorial illustration

of the advantages of Boyle's book

on proper card playing etiquette,

we give you an example of what can happen

without this excellent reference book in your home.

Here you see the typical good fellowship

of the ones who we get together,

the Saturday night poker game,

the casual attire, the easy comradeship,

all suggesting friends of long standing.

So I said to this, Ron, I said listen baby.

Oh come on Pete, just deal the cards, huh?

What, you can't wait to lose your doll?

Okay.

There's nine cards, but in the ocean,

six or seven, trays, fours, ten,

and three-eyed queens a while.

Three-eyed?

There aren't three-eyed queens.

Oh no, then just check the deck.

Pete, you've marked the deck?

Or just the queen's eyes?

Oh my word.

So you see this type of friction can be avoided.

In Boyle's handy little 900 page volume

are also rules for 364 different card games,

including of course, proper etiquette for seating,

what to serve, etc.

Then, too, there's the special section

devoted to new games.

Just to mention a few, there is mayhem.

A two-handed game, very popular

with the young married set, and another is Octopus,

a 44-handed game requiring 22 players

in a rather large table.

Then, of course, there's the special chapter

devoted to party games.

There are many of the old standard,

but they have been modernized to tribal.

"Spin the bottle", for example,

has been changed to "spin your wife".

This is now played on a large high slippery table

on which the person being spun is blindfolded.

All survivors of the game

are given door prizes in first aid.

Pinning the tail on the donkey remains substantially

the same, except of course the host is used as the donkey,

and anyone finding the mark receives

a door prize plus the gratitude of the hostess

who thinks the hostess rather than asks to begin.

Troy, this is ridiculous !

You see what's on the screen?

What do you think my problem is?

Look, relax.

I only got two more tracks.

Now, kiddies, in unpacking your do-it-yourself magic kit,

you must be a little careful.

In fact, before you uncrate the very first board,

we suggest that you read the simple 12-page instructions

on uncrating, which is enclosed in the box.

That's not quite going to work, is it, kids?

All that shandoo is a tricky one.

I guess the next best thing to do

is just rip it right open.

Yeah, there.

Now, once inside, you notice

a can of kerosene and some large matches.

Yeah, now, this is the very first trick.

Now you must be a little careful

with this one as it's a tribal

hard to get the hang of, but once you get it

to work right, well, it's worth

the final illusion and the admiring

glances of your chums as they see

mommy and dad go up and smoke.

Oh boy, as shandoo suggests,

you should really try this on brother or sister

first before moving on to mommy and dad.

Yeah.

So fun, isn't it, kids?

Now, the second trick is comparatively simple.

A word of caution first though.

Don't pull the firing pin on the grenade now.

No, you'll just have to send for another kid.

Few sailing craft have received as much praise

are being so often condemned as the catamaran.

The reasons for such a violent extremes of opinion

can be traced in some instances

to the extent of one's basic sailing knowledge.

One's familiarity with the catamaran sailing technique

are even the feeling that tradition

has been violated with the addition of another hull.

There are, of course, many other reasons, but

commonly one hears and prays such words as

high speed, shore draft,

small angle of heel,

broad decks,

great stability, and in condemnation such phrases as

can't go to windward,

will not tack,

no good in light air,

a freak,

or just another advertising hoax.

Whatever the pros and cons,

it is apparent that the need for a general discussion

of the catamaran in all its facets exists,

providing, of course, it is borne by sound principles

of naval architecture and natural laws of science.

The word catamaran comes from the Tamar word kyetu,

meaning to tai, and maram meaning to a lad.

By popular usage,

it is come to mean a twin-hulled vessel.

Although, by derivation,

it could include any multi-hulled craft.

With our respects to the many fine existing

multi-hulled sailing craft,

and for those who have designed and built them,

this film is concerned only with twin-hulled sailing vessels.

There are many factors affecting catamaran performances.

The very presence of two hulls side by side

suggests some of them at once.

Okay, Joe, I know, try another one.

And now we see two typical starlets

beginning their day off from the rigors of movie making.

Here we see them arising from bed

refreshed after a healthy night's rest,

and of course, what better way to start a new day

than the refreshing tang of a brisk

shower and bath?

Hey, Joe, I got it !

The right soundtrack. Joe, it's on !

Yeah, I know, Charlie.

So take it off and put on one of the others.

This one's from hunger.

And so we move on to the tuborous begonias.

This, of course, is a must for the true horticulturist.

Or for that matter,

even the weekend gardener will find

our real stimulating challenge

in the planting and tending of these most unusual species.

From its rather milky stem

to its flame-tinged birds,

it is in addition to anyone's back yard,

or perhaps even surrounding at the pool.

This is a bathing suit.

And this is a girl.

Separately these two are both, in a sense,

aesthetic, appealing.

But together,

a certain chemistry takes place

and the living complements the inanimate,

bringing its fibrous strands of last text to life,

infusing them with warmth,

shape, testing strength and design,

stresses, balances,

exploring the engineering soundness

of its black magic effect on the male population.

This then

is our story.

An evolution.

The revolution that brought these two finally together.

The girl

and the engineering miracle

that enhances nature's gifts.

Folks,

the beginning of our story

was really the beginning.

Since our aim is to tell you all about this here

bathing suit stuff and how it began,

the simply got to start off with a little Eve here.

Yep, that's her in the garden,

unashamed and unadorned

and as natural as you and me

is struggling on the boulevard

in the latest Ivy League model.

Everything was simple then.

Why bathing was a snap.

No dressing or undressing.

No unzipping or unsnapping.

Just a strode to nearby stream and

dally a while.

I don't reckon that's her girlfriend.

I wouldn't have believed it.

But there it was, the beginning.

Forcing that poor little snip

of a girl to disguise herself.

The start of it all right there

and the whole business of living and fun

and just got complicated.

From the time of Adam and Eve,

it was only a short hike to the cave man era

and just look what happened.

Why that fig leaf came a tree.

Brance is an all.

Poor girl almost looks to form.

This here young lady though did achieve a certain degree of fame.

The men's custom tailor association

credited her with the swing to single breasted fashions.

Very particular about her personal habit, ain't you?

You might have good character traits in such a young.

You see what happens?

Cover them up and you got the world's first beeping tom,

Barney Hardstone, and life-size too.

You'll notice he's wearing a single breasted model as well.

I didn't hear no dinner bellering.

And so it went.

Down through the years with more and more clothes being added

until the women got to looking so much like

the men and men stopped looking.

And happily we began to move backwards

in the bathing suit fashion.

The late 50s style really began the whistle era.

And instead of 23s could do it

was 38C you will do.

That there suit is called a convertible.

It's equipped with dual controls.

Kinda chilched up, don't it?

Now this sequence tends to show.

Well it means to prove

well actually it represents a kind of

booming new industry.

Sorta reminds you of a traveling salesman's expensive house.

This could be the future,

which probably explain ??

Now this part little feminine

sorta reminds me of the American astronauts comment

at the height of his ride.

Man, what a view !

Now as for our little lady of the past

her suit weighs 6.5 pounds.

And was condemned by the bureau standards

as unsafe when wet.

And by the department a recreation is

not even fun when dry.

Now this little gal

ain't what you call a professional model.

In fact, some folks doubt she's for real.

She does have problems

or to put it as she puts it kind of folksy like.

Everything that happens to me seems to come in pairs.

Example :

the come quad growers of America

are having her investigated.

And there's talk about the Berry Pickers Association

planning some sort of legal chastisement.

The Texas melon shippers

are also giving her a great deal of thought.

Could be more skilled ugry probably

just pure research.

By folks this poor little gal

ain't loud on street cars or buses

during peak rush hours !

One of the most familiar sound and names

in history learning is bikini.

In fact

folks still fuss about which one causes the biggest sensation.

The mushroom above that mirror snip

of the barren island

or the belly viewed barren.

This suit first made its appearance

in Italian France called Nice.

??

And to think that in poker

a full house beats two pair...

Well now looky here.

If he wasn't dead for well now thirty years

and buried deep,

I'd think Uncle Rodney was triumpin to land again.

Now this little darling has something up her sleeve.

That's ridiculous, ain't it?

Well she's a schemin something up.

Yep and I'm thinking this might be the answer

to the critics of the bikini who claim it's

"too much too soon".

Kind of like the painter winds up in the corner.

Where do you go from here?

I don't think this young in smokes.

She had been sheltered all her life from city ways.

How about that?

Now for you folks who think this here is a little too risky,

They have a double lace model as well.

And the kit includes of course

king size safety matches.

All turned out by ace

a really hot company.

This here should be real interesting

to all you fashion conscious folks.

The world's most brief bikini.

Two little bandages and a ribbon.

Funny, she doesn't look like she's got a scratch on her.

Well you got to admit she is a

safety conscious little tack.

For those who might feel this is a little on the mighty side,

they have a bunion kit that they're bringing out next spring.

These here gals are kind of health addicts.

Of course, women does develop lung power.

This site in California is not a might unusual

but where I come from back in the hills.

So dang it that word just keeps it popping out.

These here underwater shots were done by Chester P. Floodback,

the famous underwater cameraman.

Certainly nothing flat about his photography.

However there is evidence

that he did crackle lins

by zooming in a little too close.

Kind of a beat neck type.

That's not her lid she's a flippant lather.

I wonder who won the daily double today.

This here contraption is for the shy swimmer.

You see the board is glued to her

??body which makes for a kind of a clumsy exit from the pool.

But modest.

The quorum is preserved at the cost

of a few splinters here and there.

Well brethren.

I think if we've proved anything at all

it's that the water displacement

in the modern swimming pool is amazing.

And certainly was built for activities

beyond and above the call of duty.

As for the bathing suit itself,

well I think that bathing is helpful.

Whether you wear a suit or not

and that most of all

it's a might bit safer if you can swim.

Which of course depends on your equipment.