Wednesday 11 November 2015

What is Sexy About 18th and 19th Century Paintings?

 
Portrait by Gabriel Emile Nicolet
 
Just the other day Caroline Donofrio over at A Cup of Joe asked what were our random turn ons-- as in, what do we find sexy in a partner. The answer, according to almost all the commenters on the blog, had nothing to do with sexual stimulus or anything having to do with sex per se. Everyone seemed to agree that what they found sexy was something innocuous, innocent. Like, men in loafers without socks, an eyebrow scar, or visible veins running through the forearm and hands. I myself find hair touching a man's shirt collar to be a turn-on and also shirt cuffs rolled back to reveal a leather band watch and a strong wrist. And, you may ask, what does this have to do with the woman in the painting above? Well, I confess I find her utterly sexy. Yes. I do.


The Love Letter by Emile Levy

I also find this lovely lady, above, absorbed by the letter from her lover to be intriguing...

 
Literary Pursuits of a Young Lady by Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff
 
also this lady above...

 
Woman Reading by Jacques Émile Blanche
 
And this lady too. Mostly, for me, the lady above is intriguing not so much for her reading---although I would love to know what she is reading--but for the beautiful curve of her neck.

 
A Laundry Lady Ironing by Henry Morland

Of course, you will recall that I have referenced my husband in previous blog posts. So you know that I am married to a man. I am not gay. But if sexuality occurs on a spectrum, then what does my love for the women in these paintings suggest about where I fall on the Kinsey scale?
 
Do you suppose that men find a woman engaged in housework to be sexy? My Mister certainly has a greater chance of currying my favours when he vacuums the stairways and bathes the dog. But I feel quite sure that I would be hugely, monstrously miffed if the Mister finds it sexy when I wash the toilet bowls. For my part, I think no man ever finds a self-sacrificing woman to be sexy.   And a woman having to wash anything is a self-sacrifice in my book. 
 
That lady, the first one with the sexy shoulder, is on sale today via auction at Philipp Serrell.
 
If you were tortured into admitting it, what do you find intriguing about women? A bare shoulder, a woman intensely caught up in a novel, a tendril of hair brushing the neck?
 
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