As the warm weather shrinks the square footage of clothing on female limbs all over New York, the homme moyen sensuel walking the streets can only feel gratitude. That this spontaneous annual pageant kicks in on schedule without prompting gladdens the eye, restores ones faith in the seasons and nature's order. The more high minded of us might think, "so this is what Renaissance master Agnolo Bronzino had in mind with all that glowing flesh on canvas, or the pre-Raphaelite painter John Waterhouse intended to convey in his Hylas and the Nymphs": a kind of cornucopia effect, a sense of bounty and profusion.
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