Renoir’s La Promenade raked in a whopping $17.7 million when it sold to the Getty in 1989, so at least the rococo revival benefited somebody.

Seriously, who thought wistfully of the excessive frills and barrage of floral furniture and thought “let’s bring this back?” We all know vintage never goes out of style, but Renoir should have known better than to dabble in the trappings of late baroque ostentation. Thankfully, he mixes in some Courbet and Monet influences, cautiously stepping around the pitfalls of François Boucher. A little bit of realist and impressionist flair does a canvas good.

The brushstrokes and colors in La Promenade are reminiscent of Monet, Renoir’s bosom buddy and impressionist peer. The two had just embarked on an extended bromantic get together, painting the Seine at La Grenouillére. Renoir would even paint Monet’s first wife, Camille Doncieux, preserving her image before Monet’s second wife Alice came along to eradicate all her photographs. This signal of a totally healthy relationship may be why Renoir never bothered to paint Alice. If your friends don’t approve, it’s time to reevaluate.

Unaware of future sorrow in his chum’s family life, Renoir captures a romantic moment in La Promenade. His subjects, a boatman and a walking pile of lace, stroll in the woods of their local park. The couple is wise to opt for seclusion— it’s unlikely PDA was any more acceptable in 1870 than it is now. Pictured is the model Lise Tréhot, with whom Renoir had a secret child or two.

Destroying evidence of past trysts must be a thing for impressionist lovers; Renoir and Tréhot made quite the effort to sponge their juicy past from history. Tréhot destroyed letters from their years together, the next best thing to cropping Renoir out of her profile picture. Looks like painting La Promenade couldn’t make their relationship a walk in the park.