arthipstory

Surely I’ve seen this guy on Hinge.

When Wayne Thiebaud started painting + exhibiting images various desserts and pastries, critics acclaimed his work as a celebration of a “shallow consumer culture.” Too bad Wayne’s all, yeah right guys, about this theory, and opted for nostalgia > disdain.

No matter the reasons behind Thiebaud’s inspiration, I’m just thankful to have a variety of sweets to stare at, since I’m not eating processed sugar this week.

(Edit: Since this post, I’ve had about two three doughnuts and a stack of French toast the size of my head.)

Caillebotte nails it.

A dog off leash? Good-looking guy in a suit? Leisurely stroll by the river bank?

Sign me up.

Swap needlepoint for our phones, and we have a deal goin’ on with my ladies.

slay. slay. slay.

YOU MEAN, ME + JULIA. FUHGGEDABOUTIT, AMY ADAMS.

I’m about to waltz up to a dinner party tonight with a baked lasagna and just look all wife material to all y’all.

Just kidding. I’m probably just gonna UberEats some French bread and call it a day.

vibez. (though toss the whiskey + ginger in for the bird, please).

It’s so Manet to present the viewer with a woman looking completely bored, while some hipster loser talks about how great her butt looks in jeans a hoop skirt.

Also, what is that…a stick? An umbrella? A jib? I’m no fool, Manet; I know phallic when I see it.

Um, ‘scuse me, but you’re really interrupting every chance I can get with the water boy.

THIS WAIST.

Quappi, giiirrrrrrlllll, you so sensational.