Where are the lissome, patrician blondes of yesteryear? From the piney suburbs of Oslo, the filing cabinets of Bremerhaven and the swimming pools of Stockholm they came. They brought their marimbas, their mothers and snug bathing suits, and they headed for the place where men waited with jeweled crowns, ermine robes, cameras and public-address systems—all to the glory of the cosmetics and bathing-suit industries. They were on their fair-haired way to glory as Miss Universe—or as starlets and models.

On the footlighted runways of Long Beach, Calif., where Miss Universes have breathlessly...

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