Linda Vargas, Miss December, 1957

Lithe as a cat, a satiny, black, unblinking cat, and restless as a cat, too, is lovely Linda Vargas. She stalks Chicago's foggy lake-front streets, wanders alone through the labyrinthine corridors of the Art Institute, sits by herself sometimes in a club, listening to the muted wail of a trumpet as it weaves through her consciousness like a caress.

Self-involved and unsatisfied, Linda searches for a purpose and fulfillment that she herself cannot define. It is by choice, of course, that she spends much of her time alone, for Linda is beautiful and she knows how to please a man when she wishes. But most often she prefers her own contemplative company and the search.

Miss December Playboy's Playmate of the Month

Above, Linda pauses by bridge railing during a typical walk alone through the foggy night

Below, she sips drink at piano bar at the Black Orchid, oblivious to everything in the room except the music.