My dad was like that. Anytime he was involved in something creative or contemplative, he smoked his pipe, or at least had it handy.
The woman on the matchbook ad for the drawing school was all “Draw me like one of your French girls” – Although I think illustrators are more likely to be required to draw french fries than french girls. Maybe, on a good day, a french girl eating french fries.
Nevertheless, he complies, drawing his model with hairy underarms. (They got nude beaches, but they don’t shave their pits.) C’est la vie.