Having grown up on the same estate and gone to school together, Janet and I were best friends, as were our parents. Ah, my parents. Truthfully, as I hit my late teens and became more independent, they didn't really take much notice of me -- as long as I kept out of their way, they seemed happy. But they did take notice when I started working, mainly because they took half of my wages!
Janet and I would often talk about the life film and pop stars lived and, as news of the permissive Swinging Sixties scene emerged from London, I really resented the lack of glamour in my dull existence. Looking back, I was really naive and sheltered at that time but the prospect of marrying a local boy, living on the estate, and having boring jobs, was a depressing outlook.
I couldn't imagine leading any other life but that began to change when I met Janet one day after work. She was bubbling with barely-controlled excitement as she dragged me into a coffee shop.
"Listen," she whispered as we sat at a quiet corner table, "I think I'm on to a good thing and you can share it with me. We're both the type that can do it."
Naturally, I was intrigued. What on earth was she talking about?
Leaning conspiratorially across the table, Janet told me she'd been mindlessly working behind the counter at the Woolworth's store as usual when a man had approached and handed her a business card. Then he'd said, "We could do with some girls like you. You've got a nice figure and lovely long dark hair. Ever fancied yourself as a model?"
"As you can imagine," Janet said, "I was shocked and I just stared at him. I was tongue-tied, didn't know what to say or think, really. Then he said, 'I'm sorry to take you by surprise. But, if you're interested and want to know more, give me a ring. You can come along to my studio. Bring your mum or a friend. It's entirely up to you. It pays well.'"
Showing me the card on which was printed, Alan Fielding, Photographer, followed by his telephone number and address in town, Janet said, "Since we have the similar attributes he'd mentioned, apart from your blonde hair, I think we could give it a go."
I handed back the card and said I needed to think about it. But, after a discussion over a couple of coffees, I decided it was a potential way out of our boring lives. "No harm in you giving him a call," I said, "and asking if we could both pop along for a chat."
~~~~
A couple of evenings later, we arrived at his studio. Alan seemed a nice bloke: late twenties or early thirties, at least ten years older than us. He looked me up and down as Janet made the introductions then he explained what he was offering.
"As a photographer, I do the usual stuff, weddings, christenings, baby photos and so on. But I also take shots of models for a number of pin-up magazines. Nothing sleazy, no nudity or anything. You may have seen them in newsagents, magazines like 'Beautiful Britons' with pictures of nice girls like yourselves being -- what shall I say? Hmm... saucy! Yes, saucy. You know, poses that guys like to see, a glimpse of underwear here and there, stocking tops, maybe a girl in a tiny bikini. That sort of thing."
He paused, looking from Janet to me, and then continued, "In the summer I do the shoots outside. They're very popular. But, when it's cold, we'll be in my nice centrally-heated studio. What do you think? Would you like to do something like that? You'd get a lot more than shop money. Cash in hand, too. Look, I'll go and make some tea while you two chat about it."
We stared at each other. "What do you think, Helen?"
"I don't know. It doesn't sound like we'll have to take our clothes off, does it? I don't mind being in a bikini but what do you think he means about glimpses of underwear?"
Janet shrugged. "I suppose he means something like pulling up our skirts to show our suspenders. Or leaning forward so you can see a bit of bra. You know, how guys are always trying to look up our skirts and down our blouses? Things like that. I suppose."
"Have you seen the sort of mags he talked about?"
"I've seen them on the shelves but never looked inside. But I've seen guys in the warehouse with them, showing their mates. They have girls on the cover with their petticoats showing, tight jumpers, that sort of thing. Looks okay to me." She smiled. "Are you prepared to give it a try?"
"Hmm, probably. Why not ask if we can just do a trial? D'you think he'll go for that?"
When he returned with mugs of tea, Alan said he'd be happy for us to do a trial. As we drank, he showed us around the studio. I was very impressed by the central heating and fitted carpets. Nothing like my home: I often woke up with ice on the inside of my bedroom window! This place had radiators!
"Okay, girls, let's see... not tomorrow but the evening after. Bring some nice clothes. Do you wear stockings or have you moved on to tights? Both are popular with blokes. Bring both if you have them. Suspender belts, panty-girdles. We like our girls to wear their boobs nice and high, so get the bra straps as tight as they'll go. Bring a bikini or a swimsuit. Both ideally. Okay, any questions?"
"Well, yes," said Janet. "We'll be keeping our clothes on, won't we? I mean, you want us in girdles and things, but we won't have to pose without our skirts and blouses will we?"
"Oh, don't worry about that," he said, smiling. "Skirts and blouses are fine, or a little summer dress. The underwear is just for a little teasing. We'll do some swimwear shots, see how you look. If the shoot goes well and I sell the photos, there could be lots more work and money to come. All right?" We nodded. "See you on Thursday, then."
Before we left, slightly surprised at what we'd agreed to do, Alan handed us some money to treat ourselves to new undies. "Looking forward to working with you," he said and gave us another big smile.
We were giggling on the way out. It all seemed like a great adventure. He'd given us more money than we earned in a week and we decided to shop for new undies after work the next day.
That night I couldn't sleep. Had we done the right thing? Would our pictures appear in magazines in the local shops? Surely, the chances were slim? At least I needn't worry about my parents disapproving -- they couldn't care less. And it seemed the pay was going to be good...
~~~~
Next day I looked in my underwear drawer and realised most of it was practical but boring. The department stores in town were quite the opposite: full of lace and satin delights. After much laughing and comparing, I plumped for a black bra and a black suspender belt. Wow, black underwear! It seemed so naughty. I also bought a pair of fully-fashioned stockings while Janet opted for black tights and a white panty-girdle.
Tights were just becoming fashionable, mainly because of mini-skirts, but if you laddered a leg, it meant replacing the whole garment. That could be expensive. Usually, we wore knickers under tights and a panty-girdle on top. Could get a bit sweaty on a warm day!
When Janet and I arrived at the studio that Thursday evening, we were warmly greeted by Alan. He approved of our new purchases and the summer dresses and bikinis we had in our bags. Even the trendy plastic boots we wore got his approval.
Alan suggested the outfits to wear for our first photos and pointed to a small room at the side. "Get changed in there and I'll get the camera and lights sorted."
Obviously, we were nervous as we got dolled up. Alan wanted me in my black bra -- "Well hiked up" -- black knickers, suspender belt and stockings, white boots and summer dress. Janet was to wear her tights and panty-girdle under her summer dress. Also with white boots.
We returned to the studio to gushing praise. "Oh lovely, girls," Alan said, clapping his hands. "Good enough to eat. You'll do nicely."
So we began. Alan got us to stand together for the opening shots, then we had to hug each other. Gradually, we were directed to strange poses where we bent down together, obviously so that more and more of our legs were visible, until it was clear that my stocking tops and Janet's panty-girdle were showing. Then Janet had to lift the hem of my dress to check my suspenders.
I was a little concerned at this point but Alan was complimentary and, in fact, it was only what he'd said it would be, glimpses of underwear. Then he got us on our backs with legs toward his camera. It wasn't clear to me how much he could see, but he had lights focusing on us, so I guessed he could see what my mother called "next week's washing".
As time went on, he'd shoot us separately in similar poses. He liked the poses on our backs and I guessed that he'd often take a picture as we moved position, getting a shot of our knickers.
Eventually, we changed into our bikinis, which was fine in the warm studio. He wanted the bikini tops "hiked up" so that our boobs were almost up to our armpits. They must have looked bigger than they are and I was aware of having a large cleavage. In this gear, he photographed us sitting on chairs or sprawling on a couch. He encouraged us to put one foot on the floor while stretching the other leg along the couch. He was getting shots of our gussets!
"The guys will love these, girls. Really nice work, you're doing really well."
After about two hours, Alan declared that the session was over and asked, "So, how did you feel about it?"
"It was fun," I said and Janet hoped he could use the photos.
"They'll be appreciated," he said, "and I'm sure I'll sell them. But, do you want to do more next week? That's the question."
"We'll have a chat and give you a ring. That okay?" said Janet.
"Yes, of course. I hope you carry on, you're both naturals in front of the camera, the real 'girl next door' types. If you decide to come back, can you wear white knickers next time, Helen? They contrast better with black stockings. Maybe buy new panties, nylon if possible, and not too thick. It's good to get a hint of what's inside. And Janet, the panty-girdle is great with the dark tights, but could you bring stockings and knickers, too?"
