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Samurai Shopper | Odor Eaters
Once upon a time, washing with soap and water was considered radical hygiene. There was even a church injunction against water on the grounds that bathing spurred sensuality and indolence — talk about the odor of sanctity. At the same time, pestilential stench was a sign of Satan; bad odors indicated physical and moral decay. Alain Corbin’s “The Foul and the Fragrant” chronicles France in the 18th and 19th centuries when the masses stank to high heaven and perfumed gloves and sleeves inured the aesthete from those very rank rank and file. But the aristocracy was not entirely immune. Casanova, Corbin tells us, nearly fainted at the musky smell of an old nymphomaniac duchess. I sat next to her on the bus yesterday, and I nearly died too. As an ex-smoker with a hyperbolic nose, the Samurai Shopper defends herself against the inevitable onslaught of fried foods, mothballs, alcohol, human sweat and cheap floozy Eau My Lord what is that? with a countervailing arsenal in her handbag. Perfume — “per fuma” — means “through smoke,” and where there’s smoke, there needs to be purse-size perfume that can be discreetly applied anytime one of those duchesses comes into view. |
