How can this knavish rogue be expected to carry a tennis racket on his spiffy Beeza — or even remember it, for that matter, when he’s so busy perfecting his look? Tennis whites? Check. Garish red dinner jacket? Check. Year’s supply of Brylcreem used up for a single outing? Check. And it all goes great with his BSA motorcycle, painted in their signature green and gold.
Silly as this look seems, back then it apparently had the desired effect. The object of his affection looks especially perky today.
Many, many thanks to Brenda from 9teen87’s Postcards for this terrific blast from the past!