British comics at their finest - John M. Burns' Eartha (News of the World, 1982). A recognized veteran whose credits ranged from Modesty Blaise to Judge Dredd, Burns was a master of the female form, never hesitating to kit out his frequently reluctant heroines in stockings and garters whenever the opportunity arose.
A slightly 'risque' look at the lighter side of ice skating by commercial artist J. Fredrick Smith; not explicitly cancan on ice, but about as close as we're likely to get in a 50s family journal. Saw this many years ago in an Advertising textbook, recall being vaguely surprised by both the pose and the flashed panties...
Then again, ice skating has always been the perfect excuse to reveal knickers and thighs, even in venues where they might least be expected...
Yes, Norman Pett's Jane returns in this stock edition published by Rylee just two years after the war. The 41-page pamphlet includes photos, articles, sketches and a hand-colored strip rarely seen outside the UK. Oh, and page sixteen features this unexpected little gem:
The rest of the book may be viewed (and downloaded) at Internet Archive (nsfw):
Would you be willing to undergo this radical and potentially dangerous new treatment? Are you prepared to sacrifice your masculinity for an irreversible cure? Could you adjust to your lush, sensuous new body if they threw in a few million dollars compensation?
Wow, what a stupid question.
Following Jane's phenomenonally successful run in the 1940s, the Daily Mirror attempted two revivals of the character over the next three decades, first with the short-lived Jane, Daughter of Jane in the 1960s (Alfred Mazure, 1961-1963):
...followed by a mid-eighties reboot which updated the original heroine for a contemporary audience (1985-1990). Veteran cartoonist John M. Burns added an espionage parody recalling Jane's homefront adventures of the war years:
While both strips were initially well-received , neither managed to recapture the charm of Norman Pett's wide-eyed ingenue. Despite some truly knockout artwork from Burns and Mazure, the revivals simply couldn't match the patriotic fervor of their predecessor. Apparently, the key to success involves more than just a pretty blonde running around in her lingerie :)
More gratuitous lingerie scenes from Pat Tourret's Tiffany Jones. Initially published in London's Daily Sketch, this beautifully illustrated British 'strip' followed the time-honoured tradition established by Norman Pett's Jane (ie featuring the title character in her underwear as often as possible). Strangely enough, cheesecake shots from the strip are somewhat rare on the internet, though they occasionally turn up on Ebay and similar auction sites.
See also this post for more of the same.
Seeing as we couldn't possibly say it any better ourselves, we thought we might present this extract from Don Markstein's Toonopedia:
"There are certain types of entertainment that never go out of style — funny stories about home life … exciting stories about great heroes … pretty women who repeatedly strip or get stripped down to their underwear or less … The first is represented in comics by such famous features as Blondie and Hi & Lois, and the second by such famous features as Dick Tracy and Prince Valiant. But newspaper comics featuring the third are few and far between.
In America, at least. But Britain has had them since December 5, 1932, when Norman Pett's Jane's Journal: The Diary of a Bright Young Thing debuted in London's Daily Mirror (a leader in British comics, the most famous alumnus of which is Andy Capp). A couple of sources say the character was modeled after Pett's wife, but this may be a pious fiction, as other sources say she was based on model/actress/sexpot Christabel Leighton-Porter, who would have been 19 at the time.
The first episode of Jane (which became the official title of the strip not long after it began, and by the way, no relation) was rather mild, cheesecake-wise — just a one-panel glimpse of Jane (last name Gay, tho this was rarely mentioned) in a petticoat as she prepared to meet Count Fritz von Pumpernikel. But that one did set the stage in at least one way. Fritz, who turned out to be a dachshund, was her constant companion from that moment forward. Jane (with Fritz) continued a few years as a vehicle for daily gags (which often involved her innocently dressing, bathing or catching her skirt on a thorn), but those soon gave way to loose continuity and then, when Don Freeman came aboard as writer in 1938, to full-fledged adventure stories. It was in the middle of a spy adventure that she met Georgie Porgie, who was to be her adversary, ally, and eventually lover (tho from all indications, a chaste one).
Throughout these adventures, Freeman and Pett retained the comedy element. That way, Jane could remain innocent while they brought every manner of contrivance to bear in getting her clothes off. In fact, she stayed innocent even when she "gave her all," as newspaper reports described the event — that memorable day in 1943, when, in a hilarious scene, Freeman and Pett brought circumstances together that forced Jane to run through a cafe crowded with military men, naked as a jaybird.
A week later, the American newspaper Round-up reported on the event, and added, "The British 36th Division immediately gained six miles." Coincidence? Perhaps.
By that time, Jane had already become something of an icon in British popular culture, so it isn't surprising her doings were so closely followed by British soldiers. Even in America, she'd inspired a few imitators in the "Spicy" line of pulp magazines (the best remembered of which is Sally the Sleuth from Spicy Detective). Her first comic book, which combined reprints with new material, came out in 1944, and new ones appeared regularly for the rest of the '40s. In 1948, Pett moved to a rival paper, The Dispatch, and launched a rival clothes-shedding character, Susie. Pett's assistant, Michael Hubbard, took over the art on Jane. Hubbard used a more realistic style, and the strip had less humor as well. By then it had become practically an institution on the Mirror's comics page, but it lost steam over the next decade. On October 10, 1959, Jane accepted Georgie's proposal of marriage, they sailed off together into the sunset, and the now-legendary series was over..." |
Read the original article on Don Markstein's Toonopedia.
Despite the rampantly Anglophile nature of this website, we can safely assume that our subject matter wasn't confined exclusively to the English-speaking world. While the Brits are amongst the most highly fetishized societies in human history, the Germans have never been far behind in the nudge-nudge-wink-wink sweepstakes. Reinhard Beuthien's Lilli is a prime example of this kind of cross-cultural visual phenomena.
Generally humorous in tone, the newstrip provided a regular supply of cheesecake for its audience; Lilli frequently appeared in her lingerie during bedtime conversations with her room mate (black cami-knickers seem to have been the fashion at the time). Seasonal activities such as ice skating or tennis were accompanied by "accidental" panty shots, and Lilli's dialogue was often laced with naive innuendo.
The majority of comic aficionados are familiar with Bill Ward's Torchy and Matt Baker's Phantom Lady, but "racy" female characters have been around at least since the pulp era; Spicy Detective's Sally the Sleuth being the prime example). Taking her bow in November 1934, Sally was probably the first 'lingerie detective' on the American comics scene, and had a considerable number of literary descendants during the later 40s. Her main legacy to the artform seems to have been an impressive talent for fighting crime in her underwear (a trick she appears to have learned from Norman Pett's Jane). 
During the war, Sally started fighting the Axis and the feature was handed over to more sophisticated illustrators. While the artwork improved, it lacked the raw sexual energy of the Barreaux years. Part of the strip's innate charm had been the bold, naive approach to the subject matter; despite the inclusion of the popular 'homefront' subtext, the stories just didn't pack the same punch anymore. Still, the sado-masochistic elements continued to multiply, and Sally was one of the very few characters you could count on to lose her clothing within two or three panels.
As most of my regular visitors are already aware, I have a tendency to get on my high horse over the issue of censorship. In previous articles, I've railed furiously against the likes of Will Hays and his ludicrously puritanical Motion Picture Production Code (see the Wikipedia article for more info, I can't discuss the matter without suffering a major conniption).
While most titles were obviously aimed at kids (funny animals had always been the biggest seller), there was also a burgeoning market for teens and young adults (ie single males with waaaaay too much time on their hands). Naturally, some publishers catered to the demand for "risque" funny books (no, not that kind) featuring scantily dressed heroines in mildly compromising situations. 
Created by Ward while he was still in the Armed Services, Torchy was a ditzy blond who spent most of her time looking for work in post-war America (a process which generally involved falling out of her clothes for some inexplicable reason). Despite her haphazard employment prospects, Torchy seemed to possess an exceptional sense of fashion - particularly in regards to her lingerie, which she displayed at least once every story. Wandering obliviously from one unlikely escapade to the next, Torchy found herself stripped to bra, panties and stockings on the flimsiest pretexts imaginable.
