During the Italian Renaissance (1340–1550), an interesting debate arose: of the two parts that make up every painting, namely the drawn outline (<em>disegno</em>) and the colour that is subsequently applied (<em>colorito</em>), which was more important?<sup>1</sup> <br><br>This sort of competitive evaluation, known as <em>paragone</em> (literally ‘comparison’), was common at the time. However, this particular <em>paragone</em> had existed even as far back as Aristotle (384–322 BCE) who declared his preference for drawing by stating ‘the most beautiful pigments… [on a canvas] will not give as much pleasure as a black-and-white outline.’<sup>2</sup><br><br>The <em>disegno</em> vs <em>colorito</em> argument also surfaced the ambivalent attitude that men have historically held towards female ornamentation, in particular the wearing of make-up. The plainness and simplicity of a drawing and the subsequent lustre that the addition of colour brings gave rise to an easy metaphor: colour on a painting was no different to make-up on a woman, serving only to disguise the truth.<sup>3</sup><br><br>Renaissance theorists such as Giorgio Vasari (1511–74) also drew upon gender to argue the case for drawing; while colour was associated with emotion, seduction and femininity, drawing was perceived as intellectual and masculine.<sup>4</sup><br><br>A few centuries later, French art critic Charles Blanc (1813–82) continued the tradition in his <em>The Grammar of Painting and Engraving</em> (1867).<sup>5</sup> However, perhaps reflecting the changing times, he admits that colour is necessary to engender (or create) a painting, just as ‘the union of man and woman engender humanity’<sup>6</sup>. Yet colour, like a woman, must be contained: ‘drawing must conserve it’s preponderance over colour. If it is otherwise, painting will run to ruin; it will be lost through colour as humanity was lost through Eve.’<sup>7</sup><br>