Inspired by Henri de Toulouse Lautrec (1864-1901) – The english woman on the Star from  Le Havre – Portrait study (1899) – red chalk on pale yellow paper – 12,60 x 9,45 inch

Like every summer, Henri finds himself aboard the “Star” for the Bordeaux-Le Havre shuttle. He likes to wander on the deck and is particularly fond of this tremendous steamer’s bar.It seems like an annual rendez-vous that he would have given himself with the sweet barmaid Miss Dolly. She is still there, right on the spot, a pert smile on her face. This young woman is full of elusive strength, serenity and joie de vivre. Each move is natural and yet set to the millimeter. Speedy, cheerful, skillful, she manages all her customers with a master‘s hand.

Henri lets himself gently bewitched by her heady scent of a Guerlain essence, a so called Jicky. Her red curls, raised in a fuzzy bun, trying to control this free and wild mane, are an invitation to dream and travel. When she talks to him, her deep and sensual voice highly affects him. He is getting a little shaky. As she guesses his confusion, she makes him understand that she will come back when he has enough recovered to order a drink.

Sitting on a tall stool, from the top or rather from the bottom of his 4.98 feet, Henri, physically unprepossessing, doesn’t seem to frighten the beauty. On the contrary, she stares at him with a languorous eye, maybe already in love. You never know. Handling his sudden and usual emotion, he dares to wave in the most friendly and relaxed way possible. No way he could say how he feels. She’s far too good for him. She deserves so much better. He, the lame and sick dwarf. No, what she needs is a strong man, athletic, as sensitivity as an orchid and madly in love with this pale blue “wedgewood” eye. What else could you ask for except a glass of champagne to celebrate their reunion? He is sure that she doesn’t remember him, but he has been waiting for this moment for so long. When Miss Dolly hands him the feast beverage, he manages to skim her two fingers from her delicate hand. He’ll swear that she has slightly blushed, probably confused, he guesses. Anyway, she doesn’t look angry and moreover she offers him a beautiful smile and those few words that still ring the bell: “See you next year, Monsieur. ”