It has a brilliant invention worthy of the Northern European Renaissance: a mirror that adds an ironic twist. Note how Frahm places the mirror and the driver's eyes so that the driver is simultaneously able to look at the maiden's crotch and breasts.
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Additional notes: 1. Her trials are not over; no matter how strong the bag, the poor packing ensures that the can will soon tumble out, or rip the paper. 2. 2. Buses of the 1950s were apparently pressurized; the opening of the door has caused air to rush out, explaining the billowing skirt. 3. Most curious: the indistinct object next to the clutch. It is still falling. It has not yet reached the ground. The clutch, however has. This means she was holding the clutch and the bag in her right hand, and was attempting to open her purse when her panties were subjected to the effects of the Celery Field. She dropped her purse, but held on to the bag for a second, then steadied herself against the outgoing gust of air, adjusted her skirt and looked down the aisle, where she noted, to her surprise and dismay, a man with an easel and a palette full of oil paints. |
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This certainly happens everyday, doesn't it? This fine picture has all the classic elements of an Art Frahm underwear vs. gravity battle: public humiliation, hand in the crotch, a uniformed working man in close proximity, the open fallen purse (consult Freud for the actual meaning of that one), and, of course, celery.