Mexico And Minis

Press, Volume CVIII, Issue 31786, 17 September 1968, Page 2

Mexico And Minis

(N.Z. Pr«« Attn.—Copyright) MEXICO CITY, September 14. Australian girl athletes may have been spared great embarrassment by the ruling of the team manager, Judy Patching, that the hem-lines on their uniforms must not be raised to a more fashionable leveL

An Australian girl reporter in Mexico for the games strolled around Mexico City and the Olympic Village today wearing an orange mini-skirt cut seven inches above the knees. She was followed by a cacophony of whistles, clicking noises and cries of “wheee” and “meenee, meenee" from male Mexicans and overseas athletes. The women of Mexico barely Show their knees in their walkabout wear, their skirts averaging one inch above.

The girl reporter is Sally Wilkins, aged 22, a member of the Australian Associated Press team in Mexico for the games. Message Clear Here is Miss Wilkins’s story In her own words:— My Italian isn’t good, but the message was clear. Cries of “meenee, meenee” indicated that the group of blueuniformed Italian athletes had not seen anything quite like it before. A team official grabbed his camera, clicked rapidly as I hurried past, and peered over the top of his sun glasses just to make sure. In the background, a bunch of swarthy Turks muttered strange oath-like incantations. I hurried to the sanctity of the Olympic press centre, but my embarrassed knees were to receive no salvation. If anything, the reaction was stronger.

The Mexican officials (male) smiled politely, their assistants (female) looked distinctly disapproving, and scores of workmen broke into the wide, fiendish grin I was coming to dread. ft was time, I decided, to return to my hotel for a quick change of clothing.

My Mexican driver kindly kept his eyes on the road ahead as I scuttled into the small car. But later as I crossed the street to the hotel, cries of “senorita, senorita" came from passing cars. One motor-cyclist defied Mexico's traffic hazards to make a U-turn for a second look.

I ran up the steps of the hotel wondering what I could find to wear among all those useless mini-skirts hanging in the wardrobe. HaM-an-hour later I emerged. The street outside remained beautifully calm. I breathed a sigh of relief—and trudged off into the hot, humid distance in my long, leather evercoat