Description: One look at her, the spectacular blonde with the quick step, hot-pink lipstick and icendiary eyes, turning heads on Sunset Boulevard, and you know this is the savviest of big-city women. Wrong. Savvy, yes, but not big city. Peggy McIntaggart comes fom from Penetanguishene, Ontario, a town with nearly as many letters in its name as names in its phone book. Good fishing country, she says. Not so good for night life. And while Miss January has been known to dance a few nights away in Hollywood, her new home, she is still no wild thing. I love to fish and cook and clean house. I'm a girl you could take home to your mother. A Christian girl whose phone machine message ends God bless and whose lingerie drawer is full of enticing lace and chiffon, a combination guaranteed to please every mother and every mother's son. That's Peggy McIntaggart. Back home in Penetanguishene, Peggy used to pull trout and bass out of Georgian Bay, an arm of Lake Huron. In winter, she had a speedier pursuit, motocross races on the frozen bay. She disliked school because, dressed in her cousins' hand-me-downs and slow to develop the figure seen here, I was a late bloomer- she felt ugly. She had barely begun blooming when her mom persuaded her to enter the Miss Midland Centennial beauty pageant. Peggy won. I was shocked. That night, she decided that Peggy McIntaggart might not be so bad-looking, after all. A few modeling gigs in Midland led her to Japan, where she was known as The Tokyo Woman, the Canadian beauty who appeared on ads and magazine covers and sang in the night club Neo Japanesque. She now speaks fluent Japanese. She came home, bought a house, caught a few trout and looked around. Midland was now a bit calm for the Tokyo torch. She sold the house and moved to Los Angeles, where she had heard there might be work for an ex-ugly duckling who had turned into a spectacular international beauty. She studies acting and singing. More romantic roles are yet to come. I've enjoyed everything so far, says Peggy, but she is looking forward to playing parts that fit her private persona. I am a romantic and a homebody, she says. I'm old-fashioned. Hip to everything that's happening, but old-fashioned. My perfect evening evening? I wear silk and lace. I put a dab of perfume on the light bulbs and settle down by the fireplace with my man, and what happens next you might not tell you mother. Good night, Peggy.