James Tissot knew his way around fashion, and it’s evident in the Portrait of Miss L. L.

The child of a textile merchant (pa) and the owner of a millinery (ma), Tissot had an advantage over his contemporaries when it came to representing modern life giving him an eye for fabric. In the 1860s, he applied his knowledge of modern fashion to his work on modern life, abandoning his earlier themes of historical and religious subjects. In Portrait of Miss L. L., the young model’s red bolero and dark skirt dominate the canvas.

Tissot’s dip into modern life painting came at the perfect time. Paris was a bustling hub of modernity, and from the urbanization of the city, stylish Parisians were the envy of the world. Tissot got to work painting and soon became wealthy from his art. 

In the Salon of 1864, Tissot debuted a few things: First there was his new name going from Jacobus to James, really soaking in that English life, screaming “New Year, new me!” Second, the Portrait of Miss L. L. along with The Two Sisters. Tissot’s 1864 Salon paintings were a hit with the critics with one complementing the details of the postcard in the mirror and the used books and sheets on paper sitting on the table beside her. A nice personal touch.

The subject in Portrait of Miss L. L. has yet to be identified. Considering this model is the first full-length figure Tissot had ever painted up ‘til that point, you’d think he would have written down her name. He even used her did use her more than once appearing again in Les deux soers and Le Printemps. In Portrait of Miss L. L., the model has her hair bunched up and squished against the mirror; there’s an awkward dangle of the foot, which should have remained hidden beneath the folds of the dress. Pish posh, minor inconveniences in comparison to the little detail Tissot leaves behind. The blossoming flower apparently means that Mademoiselle L. L. has reached puberty.