There are few things more disillusioning than trying to break into the haute bourgeoisie. You rend your heart getting there, and it turns out “there” is still just life. It's a tawdry, soul-killing business, climbing the social ladder, tawdry and beside the point—because even if “lace curtains” is a metaphor for class striving, the obvious reading of this painting pales in comparison to its formal and technical brilliance. Look how astonishingly detailed that lace is! It’s like you’re looking at actual ruined lace curtain, right down to the forlorn little piece of fluff that’s fallen down to the bottom.

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