Skip forward a few years and here she is, sweet sixteen; our young artist. Raised in the Sixties and living the Seventies. One day He cometh, the one raised in the Twenties and living the Reformation; he is ‘The Assessor’. He sallies forth into the studio and parks his tweed bum timidly against the desk; he measures her up a bit, taking in the merry oxford bags and platform heel; rolls his eyes over her a bit more; both measures and rolls his eyes over her life class work and says obscurely, ‘ Ladies shouldn’t wear trousers unless, of course, they are Marlene Dietrich’. With that he stands up straight, unbalancing the desk top, sending everything crashing to the floor. So here’s a thing: don’t wear trousers when painting naked women because it’s not ladylike; she’s still trying to figure out that one
Leave a Reply