"What does an ex-sex symbol do?" Raquel Welch, 36, once asked her friend Henry Kissinger. But Raquel is hardly over the hill yet. After a three-continent swing with a song-and-dance routine, she took a new act to Lake Tahoe, Nev., where she played to enthusiastic audiences. At Easter, her latest film, The Prince and the Pauper, with Rex Harrison, Oliver Reed and George C. Scott, is scheduled for release. Says Raquel: "There are a number of ladies who do it all: music, movies, shows--and, well, I'm just one of those."

That bookworm Amy Carter was at it again. For the second week in a row, the First Child, decked out in her best long party dress, turned up as her parents' guest at a state dinner with something to read while she ate. At last week's party for Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau, she pored over The Story of the Gettysburg Address and Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. Her dinner partner, Senator Edmund Muskie, gently interrupted her reading to coax her to eat her spinach timbale. Later, with a flourish, Amy gave Muskie a souvenir--her place card, on which she had inscribed EAT YOUR SPINACH. Perhaps Amy will start a trend. Asked Washington Post Columnist Judith Martin: "If the book was better than the table conversation, which is certainly possible on state occasions, why can't everyone bring one?"

When he was 23 and waiting for the Italian movie industry to rise from the ashes of World War II, Federico Fellini earned his living in Rome by drawing droll sidewalk portraits of Allied soldiers. He got so good at it that he even opened a little studio called the Funny Face Shop. In the quarter-century since La Strada made him famous, Fellini has never stopped "doodling," as he calls it --turning out thousands of sketches of his actors' faces, costumes and wigs. Unbeknownst to him, some friends organized a show at Zurich's Galerie Daniel Keel with the drawings Fellini leaves scattered on the cutting-room floor.

Up for sale at Christie's in London this week are five treasured paintings belonging to Lady Spencer-Churchill, 91. Although her personal assets are reckoned at over $170,000, Winston Churchill's widow Clementine, like most Britons, is a victim of inflation. When word got out that she was selling family heirlooms and that she was getting no aid from the state beyond a $26-a-week old-age pension, the response was outrage. Declared the Daily Mail: "When Marlborough, Churchill's illustrious ancestor, beat off England's enemies, the nation gave him Blenheim Palace. Is it too much to ask that Parliament, by speedy and special resolution, now grant a modest pension to Sir Winston's widow? That at least would be an act of belated grace."

She was notorious at first for her courtroom miniskirts, but before she had completed her term as assistant Watergate special prosecutor, Jill Wine Volner had established a reputation as a cool, shrewd and resourceful lawyer. After 1 1/2 years in private practice in Washington, D.C., Volner, 33, has accepted a post as General Counsel of the Army, in charge of thousands of Army lawyers around the world. "It's a rare challenge. It's having an impact on things that matter," said Jill. She may also have her foot in the right door. Her predecessors in the job: Secretary of State Cyrus Vance, Secretary of HEW Joseph Califano and Strategic Arms Negotiator Nominee Paul Warnke.

Is Billy Carter crassly cashing in on his new fame as the President's brother? "I'm just trying to break even," says Billy. "I've been running around not knowing what the hell I'm doing. A lot of places I've been to I haven't gotten even travel expenses." That is about to change. Nashville Talent Agent Tandy Rice has signed Billy to join the Grand Ole Opry stars he handles in his outfit, Top Billing. After Rice approached him, Billy talked it over with his brother ("I know peanuts but nothing about traveling or going in front of the public"). The President agreed that maybe the agent could help him.

What does Rice have in store? "Mixing and mingling," he says vaguely. That could mean some product endorsements, a feature television show or two, perhaps even a movie. Says Rice: "Right now I'd compare him to somebody like Ed McMahon."

One thing is sure, the "Billy market" is out there. Says Oakland Athletics Boss Charlie Finley: "I see where Bill Veeck [Chicago White Sox owner] is trying to get President Carter to throw out the first ball on opening day. Well, I'm trying to get Billy Carter. He's my kind of guy." Bantam Books rushed into print a collection of Billy's tell-it-like-it-is shots from the hip. An embarrassingly thin volume, Redneck Power: The Wit and Wisdom of Billy Carter sells for $1.50, yet went through its first printing of 210,000 within a week. Billy had nothing to do with the book and even made some noises about legal action when he got wind of it. But the book did make him that much more marketable.

Before he achieved celebrity status, Billy was a homebody whose idea of distant places was an occasional vacation in Florida's Walt Disney World with Sybil and the six kids (ages five months to 20 years). Now he travels as much to get out of Plains as to garner honorariums. Says Billy: "Hell, Plains is turning into a three-ring circus." So much so that Billy has been all but driven from his familiar haunts: a discarded school bus seat blocks access to the back room of the famous service station where he quaffs his afternoon beers, and nobody is admitted unless the employee who stands guard gives the O.K. Billy has even bought 170 acres of secluded woodland not far from town to build a new house, hidden from tourists.

Billy appeals strongly to working-class types who can identify with his beer-drinking, anti-Establishment ways. Some White House types worry about his growing visibility, but his brother has not complained--yet.

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