Inspired by Henri de Toulouse Lautrec (1864-1901) – A woman pulling up her stockings (1894) – Pastel on beige paper – 12,60 x 9,45 inch

Claudie is feeling tired. She has worked all night. One of the girls has been sick for days now. She must be replaced. The house shall not extend any credit whatsoever.Determined than ever, they stick together dayly. Claudie is a little bit cold, she puts her shirt around her neck, that’s all she has got at hand. Between two appointments? Yes, only a few minutes.

In a short while, it’s Monsieur Henri. He is kind, he is sweet. He sits on the bed and draws, paints. He also sometimes tells stories. True? Imagined? She cannot say. No, really, she hasn’t got a clue. But she particularly appreciates these different and funny moments. The « boss » is perfectly aware, she says nothing. As long as she gets the money …

Monsieur Henri, his thing is the houses. Actually, not all the houses, just the brothels. He is interested in the girls’ way of life, each one of us without exception. He sketches them, behind their backs, or not. Sometimes, his conscientiousness makes her smile. She waits, becomes a model. He is not very demanding, just accurate. The magic of strokes, shadows, lights, values, colors just seduces her.

The dawn rises, shyly. Just like Claudie when she asks Monsieur Henri if she can move, just a little, her back really hurts. She, usually cheeky, hardly recognizes herself. The Artist’s power, probably. Or rather his skill. His discretion greatly amuses her neighbors. During their breaks, they enjoy sharing their experiences, their anxieties. That’s the serious and possibly pathetic side. They also like to gently mock each other, to make fun, their own way, of their visitors’ failings. Then, starts an escalation of the best anecdote, the best caricature. That’s the entertaining and certainly the most charming side.

Thinking of it, she would desperately miss her life with the girls. So much promiscuity and feminine complicity. She feels so lonely in her life. No longer parents, no family, no children. A few furtive flashbacks come back to her, short moments of happiness gone forever.

Claudie takes a look at the clock on her bedside table. It’s almost time, but just enough time to pull up her stockings.