Page 223 - Flaunt 171 - Summer of Our Discontent - PS

SAY WHAT? A MARMOT?
The Extensive and Stylish History of Mask Making and Wearing in Times of Disease
Written by Michelle Varinata
Face masks are the new gold hoop earrings, the it-bag, the soup du jour. Just as essential as toilet paper, face masks of every kind—from chic printed cotton to disposable surgical paper— are starting to appear
more frequently in
our households and
on our feeds. Espe-
cially when the mask
is made with pure
gold.1 Worth more
than a gram of gold in
Indonesia2, and jolting
the stock market at
$9 billion on Etsy3,
it looks like the face
mask is not going to
go away even long af-
ter the pandemic ends.
However, like pandem-
ics, face masks are not
a new phenomenon.
be the source of the plague pandemic across Europe. The mask was often worn with a waxed coat and goat leather gloves9,
and accessorized with a rod used to touch the skin of plague
In the 13th centu-
ry, Marco Polo, an Ital-
ian explorer, observed
that the servants of
the Chinese Yuan em-
perors wore luxurious
face masks—scarf-
like design made
out of silk and gold
threads4—to prevent
their breath from
damaging the smell
and taste of the food5
they were preparing
and serving. This
mindset was linked to
the obsolete miasma
theory, where bad
odors were believed
to be the source of
diseases, like cholera
or the Black Plague.
In fact, the very silk
industry that fed mask
production, as well as
other global demands
for the luxury fiber,
came to terms with mias-
ma theory: production of
silk worms often meant
disease6, and miasma theory presumed disease the fault of bad odors. So, much like a Californian greets you in their living room, farmers burned incense for the silk worms in the hopes of good vibes and strong immunity.
Although it was a staple in the East, the Western world did not catch up to the face mask trend until Charles de Lorme,
a doctor, designed one in the 17th century for medical profes- sionals who were treating plague victims. With a bird-like face, the beaked mask stored theriac7—a potpourri-like mixture
of honey, cinnamon, viper flesh powder, camphor, mint, rose petals and myrrh to protect against miasma8, then believed to
victims. This mask, in combination with the medical smock we’re familiar with today, was inspired by the armor of soldiers, and the getup influenced the next generations of face masks around the world in later centu- ries.
In 19th century Japan, cloth masks were mass produced for miners, factory, and construction workers during the Meiji era. These face masks featured a brass mesh filter and two strings around the ears. Grad- ually, brass or metal was phased out with celluloid. Due to their costly price, celluloid masks were meant to be re-worn numerous times, especially if its coverings were made out of luxurious mate- rials such as velvet and leather10.
Alas, we’re all aware of folks out there who are not wearing masks by choice, and it’s not because they haven’t the coolest model on the block. It’s because they’ve forgotten
their history! In 1897, Johann von Miku- licz-Radecki, a Polish surgeon, proved in his
research that a surgical mask should consist of a layer of gauze11. That same year, Carl Fried- rich Flügge, a German
hygienist, argued that droplets from the nose and mouth were the cause of diseases12 spreading. A handful of years later, Chicago-based physician Alice Hamilton stated that surgeons should wear face masks13 after conducting research measuring the release of step bacteria in the company doctors and nurses when they perform surgery.
Five years after Hamilton made her study, Malaysia-born and Cambridge educated physician Wu Lien-Teh was asked by
FRIDA KAHLO. “GIRL WITH DEATH MASK” (1938). OIL ON CANVAS. 6” X 4”. COURTESY NAGOYA CITY ART MUSEUM, NAGOYA, JAPAN.
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