Just randomly thinking of “Gone with the Wind” this morning, which I last read many years ago, and remembering the part in which Scarlett O’Hara, to hide her burgeoning dependence on alcohol, would “gargle eau de cologne” so that people wouldn’t be able to smell the liquor on her breath from miles away. I believe the action in the book takes place from approximately 1861 to 1868.
Questions: did people actually do this on a widespread basis, or is Margaret Mitchell engaging in vast historical revisionism here? Wasn’t there any better means for freshening the breath? Until approximately what date did this practice continue? Is it harmful in any way? Was the “eau de cologne” of the 1860s much different in composition from the stuff we slap on ourselves today? Would it be harmful if someone today were to get up in the morning and have a nice Old Spice gargle?
It looks like eau de toilette is about 80-90 % alcohol, and mouthwash up to 26% (except for the 70% outlier). So a lot more of a kick than the normal rinse.
I gargle with 70% alcohol mouthwash. It isn’t quite fair to put Dr. Tichenor’s on the list, though, because you’re supposed to dilute it 5:1 with water, thus sending it near the bottom of the list. Its bright red, all capital letters telling me not to use it without dilution haven’t deterred me from using it straight, though.
“Toilette” in French used to mean just the process of grooming and primping associated with getting dressed. The process took place at one’s dressing-table, “habiller-table” or “toilette-table”, the latter term so named from the practice of covering said table with a decorative fabric known as toile.
This meaning of “toilette” was adapted as “toilet” in English, as in Alexander Pope’s poem The Rape of the Lock:
The perfumes (such as those “all Arabia breathes from yonder Box”) kept on a toilette-table became known as “eaux de toilette”, and then in English “toilet water”.
Subsequently, “chambre de toilette” became widespread as a euphemism for a water-closet or indoor privy, presumably because it was in or near the dressing-room/boudoir. Finally the meaning of “toilet” narrowed down to the particular plumbing fixture now so called.
People certainly used colognes etc. as ingredients in mouthwash, although they diluted them first (in fact, I don’t remember any definite indication in Gone with the Wind that Scarlett was gargling with straight cologne either). Check out this beauty handbook from 1890:
Whaddya mean, “wasn’t there any better means for freshening the breath”? The dilute-cologne gargle is essentially a mouthwash blended from water, alcohol, and fragrance/flavoring, which AFAIK are still the chief ingredients of many mouthwashes today. If it was good enough for your great-grandma…
Cecil himself touches on the origin of “toilet” in this column, which pretty much agrees with what you said.
One does across hints of the old meaning of “toilet” in everyday speech. For example, the “toiletries” that you carry in your “toilet bag” don’t normally include things you use at the actual toilet.
Bah, getting off track of the actual discussion. Sorry all.
When I was about 19 and living in the barracks, an aquaintance came up to me one evening and asked it I wanted a drink. He said if I bought the sodas he’d provide the booze. I gave him the change needed for the coke machine, which dispensed small paper cups of Coke. He returned a few minutes latter w/ two cups and a very strong odor of Aqua Velva. Still not getting it, I took a drink, which I immediately spat out. He confirmed that the “booze” was his after shave, said he drank it all the time and continued to finish his drink. Yuck!
I just finished reading Dry by Augesten Burroughs. He claims to have used cologne on his tongue to hid alcohol smell too, so it seems to be a “trick” still used in modern times.