And here’s the quiz. . .
For each of the questions below, put a check in the column at the above that’s the right answer for you. Then add up the number of checks in each column. If you’ve the most checks under:
“Always”. . . . . . . . . . . .You’re Type 3
“Generally”. . . . . . . . . .You’re Type 1
“Frequently”. . . . . . . . . .You’re Type 2
“Occasionally”. . . . . . . .You’re Type 5
“Rarely”. . . . . . . . . . . . .You’re Type 6
“Never” . . . . . . . . . . . . .You’re Type 4
If you’ve almost the same number of checks in 2 or more columns, it just means you haven’t yet decided exactly who you are. For 66 bachelor arguments on who you should be, below.
- Smile when you’re whistled at?
- Talk to strange men on a train?
- Talk to yourself if nobody’s around?
- Laugh out loud at a funny book?
- Get misty at beautiful music?
- Write letters to editors?
- Hum when you dance with him?
- Lend your best clothes to friends?
- Scream for your team at ball games?
- Despite a sign, talk to bus drivers?
- Leave your clothes where they fall?
- Ask men whether they’re married?
- Remove your earrings for a kiss?
- Pretend a stocking-run just popped?
- Ask a new boy home to dinner?
- Take a trip at a moment’s notice?
- Discuss sex with the opposite sex?
- Give him little gifts for no reason?
- Stay on the phone forever?
- Think tomorrow you’ll go on a diet?
- Accept a date for the same night?
- Use safety pins when buttons fail?
- Reward yourself with a sundae?
- Hate to go to a party alone?
- Kick your shoes off first thing?
- Close your eyes when you’re kissed?
- Feel funny at meeting a new boy?
- Buy a dress that flatters your figure?
- Can’t eat when you’re in love?
- Want to tell him you love him?
- Send away for free booklets?
- Admit it to him when you’re wrong?
- Keep a diary?
- Get mad quick and get over it soon?
- Forget the ending of a joke?
- Answer romance quizzes?
- Ask people to sign petitions?
- Like a boy to be jealous over you?
- Always know what to say to him?
- Teach boys to dance?
- Sing in the shower?
- Take walks with him in the rain?
- Tell the world about your secrets?
- Kiss a boy on a first date?
- Get teary-eyed when you’re happy?
- Sleep with perfume on?
- Don’t try to hide your emotions?
- Prefer orchids to one perfect rose?
- Skip and run when you’re happy?
- Try to write poetry?
- Do what you make up your mind to?
- Laugh so hard at his jokes you cry?
- Want to have a large family?
- Hug your pillow at night?
Now that you’re typed, see who goes for you
66 bachelors vote for their favorite type of girl
Paul Anka – Frankie Avalon – Edd Byrnes – Peter Brown – Ben Cooper – Robert Fuller – Jackie Gleason – David Hedison – Tab Hunter – Pat Wayne
2- TYPE: womanly
John Bromfield – Phil Everly – Jack Lemmon – Jody McCrea – Sal Mineo – Cameron Mitchell – David Nelson – Johnny Restivo – Cesar Romero – Torn Tryon
3- TYPE: sexy
Stephen Boyd – Marlon Brando – Maurice Chevalier – Montgomery Clift – Mark Damon – Dwayne Hickman – John Ireland – Elvis Presley – John Saxon – Frank Sinatra
4- TYPE: mysterious
Cliff Arquette – Fred Astaire – Richard Beymer – Cary Grant – Robert Morse – Hugh O’Brian – Michael Rennie – Mort Sahl – Russ Tamblyn
5- TYPE: old-fashioned
Dirk Bogarde – Tom Conway – Gary Crosby – Michael Dante – Brandon De Wilde – Earl Holliman – Dennis Hopper – Will Hutchins – Bobby Rydell – John Vivyan
Raymond Burr – Jimmy Clanton – Ben Gazzara – George Hamilton – Rex Harrison – Rock Hudson – Gene Kelly – Christopher Lee – George Nader – Tony Perkins
who’s your favorite man?
how to be the type HE wants.
Life is a picnic to her (as it is to Molly Bee, Connie Stevens, Doris Day, Debbie) and I want to tag along, so some of her sparkle will rub off on me, says Rick Nelson. She’s musical—plays a uke and likes to harmonize. Her clothes are easy: shorts, pleated skirts and blazers, white duck pants and little sailor hats. Her smile is like a four-alarm fire, and the way she wrinkles her nose when she laughs—it kills me. She looks wonderful in polka-dots, charm bracelets, red corduroy, has bouncy hair and loves the wind in it. She brings me out, gets me to do crazy things. We go to the zoo and die laughing at the polar bears, and the monkeys. She likes Thurber illustrations, bubble baths, bedtime stories; plays tennis, even baseball; is a natural-born flirt, which means there’s nothing phony or obvious about the way she does it. She has the light touch. She’s not afraid of what people will say, because she trusts herself. She has a wonderful time just being a girl. And she sure makes me glad I’m a boy.
There’s something solid about her (like Sandra Dee, Vici Shaw, Deborah Kerr, Simone Signoret). Something I could build my life around, says Bob Horton. Maybe it’s the serious look in her eyes that does it. They’re clear and intense, with thick, expressive brows. Her hair is fluffy and natural looking. She likes to putter in a garden, make unusual soups and stews, serve cheese with apples or pears. We’re both sunworshippers, love sailing or just plain hiking, want to live in an old farmhouse with a creek out back, go barefoot and bareheaded, walk in the rain. She looks great in shirtwaist dresses, velvet slacks, old GI jackets, halter-top dresses, sandals, sleeveless blouses, belted coats, big pocketbooks and the color yellow. She’s practical; helps me save money, gives me confidence, listens carefully to what I tell her, and can keep a secret. She feels a responsibility for the well-being of all living creatures, and cares for them as devotedly as she will one day care for children—mine, I hope.
Her aim is to make me happy (like Rita Hayworth, or Brigitte Bardot, Marilyn Monroe, Liz Taylor, Tuesday Weld), even if she can’t ever be punctual, count money or control her temper. She does pretty much what she darn pleases and, luckily. most of the time it pleases me. says Edd Byrnes. She can get away with extreme clothes: red satin, plunging necklines, elbow-length gloves, a leopard jacket—even a bikini. Her mouth is her most provocative feature, and she paints it brilliantly: the lips always a little parted, the lower one slightly fuller than the upper—which means she’s very good at pouting and getting her own way. She loves big jewels, hanging earrings, orchids, fancy petticoats; likes to go on shopping sprees, or to the beach; is a big eater. She has a passion for humor books, but likes me to read aloud to her. She’s impulsive, ticklish, gets a big kick out of shocking people. I can’t take my eyes off her—she gives off rays of life, energy, excitement. that are 100% female.
She’s like Carolyn Jones. Ava Gardner, Garbo or Marlene Dietrich. And what makes her so special? Well, I guess it’s her face, says Gardner McKay. Not necessarily because it’s so beautiful, but because it hides so well what she’s thinking. Her neck is long, like a swan’s; her profile is superb, and she dramatizes it with all kinds of hats, from picture ones to the kind that cover her hair. She likes masculine sports—or never says she doesn’t—like golf and fishing; also exotic plants, health foods, abstract art. panthers. She keeps trim on a strict routine—massages, exercise. She wears straight-straight skirts, deceptively simple dresses; unusual combinations, like a woolen sweater with an evening skirt, a double-breasted fur coat, black suits lined with orange silk. Then she’ll have just one piece of jewelry, maybe. worn dramatically on her hat or at her waist. But no, it’s not just her clothing that makes her unpredictable, it’s that she seems to be looking at something nobody else can see. thinking about something nobody else could know. She can’t be swept off her feet. I know, because I’ve already tried. She can’t really be classified and she can never be talked into doing anything that she hasn’t already decided to do—all by herself. Which means she may never marry me, but I’m going to keep on trying.
5- CAROL LYNLEY (old-fashioned )
She’s learned how to say No when she doesn’t trust her emotions. (like Kim Novak, Leslie Caron, Diane Baker, Jean Simmons), because she’s softhearted and tender, and afraid of getting hurt. Her hair is silky and not too curly, and she keeps it long, so she can twist it up in a roll or tie ribbons in it, or violets. Her make-up is all light and rosy, except for the dark outline around her big, innocent eyes. She wears pastels, mostly blue; full velvet skirts with matching stoles, crisp blouses with peter-pan collars. She’s got dozens of belts and bright-colored scarves, and she wears a locket with my picture in it. She’s crazy about animals, both stuffed and live ones. She’s a good swimmer; makes fudge, bakes pies, knits; she used to study ballet. I want to protect her from the world, says Fabian, because she’s so—well, fragile, and big crowds of people scare her. She blushes when I tell her she’s beautiful. And once in a while she’ll let me know she loves me, in some sweet, quiet way. She needs time and patience, and she’s worth it. I can wait for the day she wont say no.
She has this marvelous elegance about her (like Lee Remick, Susan Kohner, Claudette Colbert, Grace Kelly), as if she had no choice but to make the right gesture, say the right word, wear the right clothes— like long skirts for dinner, and real evening gowns (none of those ballerina things) when the invitation says Formal. She wears lots of white kidskin gloves, chiffon scarves, fur pieces, fresh flowers, little veiled hats. Her jewelry has an heirloom look on her cashmeres and tweeds. She plays charades and bridge, but doesn’t go for outdoor sports. On her table, the china is apt to be Bavarian, the linen Irish, the silver English. Her perfume is French, and she sprays some on her stationery, too. Her letters are always handwritten, full of wit and unusual observations. Her tastes are expensive, but she’s pretty shrewd about satisfying them without undue extravagance. I guess you’d call her well bred. and a bit of a puritan—which, frankly, I like, says Troy Donahue. And whether she wants one or not, I’ll build her a pedestal with my bare hands—and carve my heart on it just to show her how I feel about her.
It is a quote. PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE JULY 1960