Tag Archives: toulouse-lautrec

art history dolls

lautrec.jpg

Not included: Lautrec’s scorching case of sphyilis, and Pollock’s mangled car from his drunk-driving accident that killed him in 1956.

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#WantThatHair

top knot

Go ahead and just charge every part of this look to my credit card. The red windbreaker material isn’t quite up to my speed, but with that fur trim and well-coiffed top knot?! What the hell.

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labor day

the-bed-henri-de-toulouse-lautrec-18931

Is it just me, or is Labor Day all about staying in bed? I mean, I’ve seen about a hundred mattress ads this weekend. Give it a rest, Sleepy’s! If I’m watching Lifetime’s “Grey’s” marathon, I’m obviously already in bed. Your product placement is ALL OFF.

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Two Girls in Bed, oil on cardboard, Paris, Musee d’Orsay, 1893.

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maxime dethomas

dethomas

Maxime Dethomas was one of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec‘s besties. He was a real introvert, though, and was known to blush when he needed to speak up.

He was also a very prominent costume and scene designer. This illustration was for “Les Abeilles” (“Ballet of the Bees”) in 1917. Like I even NEEDED the translation, as I can clearly see the honeycomb pattern in this rad Art Deco piece.

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mercelle lender

lender

Today, we celebrate Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. A man who stood at the lofty four-six, Lautrec spent many a-night at the Moulin Rouge and other Parisian nightclubs. Lautrec’s parents were first cousins (gross), and many of his health problems were attributed to inbreeding (double gross). He drank like a maniac; even his cane came well-equipped with liquor storage. He ended up dying in an insane asylum with syphilis.

My favorite part about this painting of Marcelle Lender is that Lautrec LOVED redheads (smart man, I say). Like, was obsessed. I’m talking, this chick was in an short-running opera (too soon?), and he attended twenty times. Twen-tee. When he wanted her to have the painting, she basically called him a creep. “What a horrible man,” she said, “You can have [the painting].”

Well, the National Gallery helped itself to it, thanks to John Jay Whitney, in the 90s.

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