I know I talked about Rococo yesterday about being the naughty little sister of Baroque, and, really, it was. But it’s easy to dismiss it as frivolous and pink and ruffles and giggles and all poufs and fluff and shit. It was anything but. It was the forerunner to our modern views on sexuality and how it is portrayed in the media and film. Take, for instance, this series of paintings/etchings/prints about the woman on a swing: it is an erotically charged story about a woman and her lover(s), and matters of the heart, told through the allegorical reference of, well, knowing that she’s got no underwear on under her frilly underskirts. So, there’s that. I guess I’ll leave you with that image burning into the back of your brain.