Pauline Boty’s artwork instantly captured my attention, startling me with its wit and bite—its celebration of the glamour of a man’s world and simultaneous condemnation of its violence—and I felt the artist’s personality strongly, almost as though the picture were a self-portrait. Thus I was surprised, looking at the card on the wall, that Boty’s name was completely unknown to me. But today, Boty is emerging from history’s glacial ice into a world more receptive to her sensibility than the one in which she lived. Last July, a commemorative “blue plaque” was unveiled at her Holland Park residence; the Tate Britain has returned Boty’s most famous painting, The Only Blonde in the World, to its walls; and a comprehensive exhibition—the first in a decade—opens at London’s Gazelli Art House on November 30. A bold woman to the very end, a singular creator, and a culture figure for our time, Pauline Boty, lost for so long, has at last been found. —Marc Kristal