Heads up for your next trip to Rome! Think the Sistine Chapel is the only ceiling worth seeing? Think again.
In the ancient world, body hair was largely removed. Greek and Roman men might have had some stylised pubic hair in their art, but women? If they appeared nude at all (which was rare), they were usually depicted without a single strand below the neck. Prudish? Perhaps. But by the Middle Ages, a hairless pubis had taken on an entirely different connotation—one tied to prostitution.
To keep things "decent," artists covered up genitals with fig leaves, flowing fabrics, or strategically placed hands. Even classical Greek sculptures, famous for their idealised male physiques, often had their "manhood" modestly veiled. But, of course, there were exceptions. In 1540, German engraver Heinrich Aldegrever gave us a glimpse of Eve with an impressive, centre-parted bush.
Around the same time, Bronzino’s An Allegory with Venus and Cupid (1545) might be the first Western painting to depict female pubic hair… if you squint hard enough.
While the Renaissance and Baroque masters mostly kept their nudes bare, artists like Rubens and Rembrandt ensured their figures had at least a wisp of modesty. Then, in 1800, Francisco Goya changed the game with La Maja Desnuda—a nude so unashamed that, yes, you could actually see her pubic hair.
Fast-forward to 1814: Napoleon’s sister commissioned The Sleeper of Naples from Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres and, for once, a female nude was painted with the same hairy detail that men had always received. Unfortunately, the painting was lost, and we only have a 1911 study to go by.
Meanwhile, in Japan, artists like Hokusai were already well ahead in the pubic hair department. His shunga (erotic art) often depicted women with full, natural pubes—a stark contrast to the West, where the mere suggestion of such hair was scandalous. In fact, in Japan, it was shaved pubic hair that was linked to prostitution, a cultural association that still lingers today.
The 19th century was a tumultuous time for pubic hair in art. In 1866, Gustave Courbet painted L’Origine du Monde—a bold, unapologetic celebration of the female form in all its hirsute glory. But the world wasn’t ready. The painting was kept hidden for 122 years before finally being publicly displayed in 1988.
For Victorian-era audiences, the mere sight of pubic hair was considered shocking. Just ask art critic John Ruskin. Legend has it that on his wedding night, he was so horrified by his wife Effie’s natural pubic hair (having only seen hairless statues before) that he fled and never consummated the marriage. The union was annulled a few years later.
By the late 1800s, artists like Van Gogh, Klimt, and Schiele were challenging the norms of beauty and eroticism. Schiele, in particular, painted women in unashamedly provocative poses, complete with wild, untrimmed pubic hair. Klimt’s Nuda Veritas (1899) caused an uproar, while Oskar Kokoschka’s nudes leaned more into the naturalistic than the erotic.
By 1917, the pubic taboo had mostly faded in art. Amedeo Modigliani’s signature elongated figures often included a neatly shaped triangle of hair—perhaps the inspiration for the "Brazilian" trend of today.
Throughout history, pubic hair in art has been erased, censored, scandalised, and celebrated. Whether it's hidden behind fig leaves or boldly on display, the way we depict the body reflects cultural attitudes of the time.
So, the next time you see a classical nude, take a closer look—you might just spot a tiny but significant piece of history.
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Patron saint of cooks, chefs, and comedians
Burned on a rack
As he endured the excruciating torment of being cooked, the story goes that he turned to his tormentors and calmly uttered:
“I’m done on this side, flip me over”
Patron saint of soldiers, archers, and plague
Shot by arrows
His survival from a rain of arrows did little to sway the Roman emperor who had issued his death sentence. He was then brutally beaten, and his lifeless body cast aside into a sewer.
Patron saint of girls, students, philosophers, and craftsmen working with wheels
Breaking wheel
Initially condemned to the breaking wheel, she left onlookers astounded when the wheel disintegrated at her mere touch. As the execution proceeded with a beheading, legend has it that instead of blood, a milk-like substance flowed from her severed neck...
Patron saint of inquisitors and midwives
Murdered by cleaver
Vengeful Venetian nobles hired his assassins in response to Peter's persecution of heretics.
Patron saint of the blind
Eyes removed
Paschasius commanded his guards to remove her eyes when she prophesied his impending punishment. Another version has Lucy taking her own eyes out in order to discourage a persistent suitor who was captivated by them.
A shared symbol among all martyrs is the palm leaf of victory, reminiscent of what Greek or Roman athletes received upon winning sporting contests. Martyrs are victorious in death, reborn in Heaven.
Spot a palm leaf - Spot a martyr!
¡Ay, caramba! In art restoration, good intentions don't always lead to good results.
A local tobacco shopkeeper took it upon herself to add some flair to the trio of 15th-century wooden sculptures using industrial enamel paint.
“I’m not a professional painter” Maria Luisa Menendez
The sculptures had been professionally restored just 15 years before but the parish priest apparently had given his blessing to the amateur.
This 500-year-old sculpture of Saint George was turned into a cartoon character after the church hired a local teacher for the job.
Re-restoring it cost $37,000! The church paid for the re-restoration to “somewhat” its original appearance.
Spanish amateur restoration’s latest victim...
In 2020, an art collector paid $1,200 for a furniture restorer to clean up his copy of The Immaculate Conception of El Escorial.
He Made 2 Attempts. But the restorer only took it from worse to worser.
Initially suspected as vandalism, the alterations were instead the creation of an 81-year-old parishioner.
“They didn’t let me finish” - Cecilia Giménez
Remarkably, this restoration turned into a notorious attraction, ultimately revitalizing the struggling economy of the small Spanish town. The Sanctuary of Mercy Church in Borja had around 46,000 visits between August and December 2012.
Some voices in Spain are now calling for tighter rules for art restoration...
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