I'm a fan of good pinup art. It's always been a part of my life. We moved a lot when I was a kid, but no matter where we lived, my mom always hung some vintage pinup art in the bathroom. Carrying on the family tradition, my bathroom is graced by multiple works of pinup artist extraordinaire, Gil Elvgren. There's something so fun and cheeky about pinups created by paintbrushes rather than cameras.
But when pinup art goes wrong, it goes really wrong...
The piece of trash pictured here is Exhibit A.
I don't even know who the "artist" is, and I think it's for the best. If I knew who he was, I might have to book a ticket, hop on a plane, knock on his door and kick him in the ass for shitting on such a great art form. Let's count the many ways this picture assaults the senses:
1. I understand this "artist" is trying to preserve his subject's modesty by covering up her nipple. But does she have to be squishing her tit like an ill fitting push-up bra, thus giving it the look of an unused water balloon discovered under the deck chair three days after little Jimmy's party?
2. Why the orange? Is this "artist" showing off the skills he learned in Art Class 101? Who eats an orange with wine? That's just too much acidity. Besides which, how could she peel the orange while wearing white opera length gloves?
3. Note how the pearls are in the glass of wine. Pearls before swine, yes. Pearls in the wine, no. You know why? Because they will become discolored. No woman would allow this to happen. Not with her good pearls, anyway.
4. That Chianti bottle in the basket image must have really entranced a certain generation of men. Whenever my dad talks about "bohemian" life, he always strings together the same sentence: "It was real bohemian. You know, with the candle stick in the Chianti bottle."
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