About This Blog

I’m still learning my way around the art of blogging, but now that my new site has been up for a couple of weeks, I’m starting to get the hang of this. My goal is to blog about things kids will find interesting and that have to do with history, science, the history of science, or the science of history.

As some of you know, I have a book out about the history of toilets and sanitation. I have another one in progress, about the effect of insects on human civilization. And I’ve been working on a third, about the history of clothing and fashions and how they fit into the great sweep of human history.

So, I’m going to try to post about bugs, poop, and clothing on a fairly regular basis.

Flea Furs

Which brings me to flea furs, otherwise known as zibellini. They’re a favorite topic of mine, because they incorporate insects, fashion, and hygiene.

Let’s say you’re a person of high rank in the sixteenth century, living in Europe. Most likely, you are pestered by fleas, like everyone else. Here’s what to do: take a small dead animal—head, claws, tail and all—and drape it jauntily over one of your arms. Then wait for awhile.

An unknown lady by Segar

The strategy behind flea furs was that the fleas dining off you would decide that it was more fun to dine off the dead animal you were carrying instead. (Let’s not examine this logic too carefully. Fleas are attracted to warm-blooded animals, not dead stuffed ones.) After the fleas had leapt onto your flea fur, you could give it a periodic shake to dislodge the bugs. One hopes people shook their flea furs outside, but the records are hazy on this detail.

Flea furs were usually small animals such as sable or marten, and the stuffed creatures could be elaborately ornamented. Precious jewels often replaced eyes and claws. Flea furs were a pretty short-lived fad, which originated in Italy and quickly spread to other European courts. Henry VIII owned two flea furs. His daughter, Elizabeth had at least one.

The fad didn’t last very long, although the fashion for wearing a whole, stuffed animal (called a stole) or many small animals sewn together to make a larger wrap, made an unfortunate comeback in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.