The blankness of her underwear is the erotic opponent to the clinging encroaching ribbons and fussilades of bourgeois decor, whose ‘pretty’ tendrils reach out for every empty space, quiet time, and naked form. This picture asks what we are wearing, inside, outside, everywhere; and it asks: does what we’ve put on compare to the suggestiveness of what has no branding or pattern but only a good fit.