Victorian England? Really? You know the smell that homeless people give off, even after they bathe? It’s a sort of earthy cologne that you pick up after about a month of living outdoors. It’s like the smell of molasses rotting? Up until about 100 years ago, 95% of the world smelled like that. Most people didn’t bathe regularly and lots of them thought taking a bath would make you sick. (Where I live, most people feel the same way about driving with the window down, even when it’s 95 F.)
And often, the old-time people didn’t even take their sweaty, crusty clothes off when they did get in the tub. Odds are good that a girl inherited her panties from her older sisters, mother or even grandmother. Ground-in body soil in threadbare clothing.
Sure, many women would try to balance their horrible smell by spraying themselves with liters of perfume. If it’s true that you can’t polish a turd, it’s a good bet that you can’t make one smell like daises, either.
Only the wealthy had anything but their hands to wipe with so after a long winter the stench beneath a workingman’s fingernails probably glowed in the damn dark. People quite literally lived in their own human stew.
The streets were covered in animal excrement, streams of human sewage thrown out the window, and rotting, decaying organic matter. Main Street was likely the most fertile land in any settlement.
People sweated all day in factories. Sweated. They sweated so much they actually had tiny rakes to scrape away the sweat at the end of a shift. Caked on pollution, dead skin, grease and pores just oozing poison.
London was never a foggy place. That was air pollution, mate. It’s like wearing a raincoat in Los Angeles. In West LA they called it a “Marine Layer.” I remember an entire summer living in the Palisades when the sun never came out. It was cool and you couldn’t get a tan if you laid out all day under a large magnifying glass.
To call humanity a rotting crop of orchids is probably correct. Ever been on a bus in Central America in August? Packed in like chickens, the same buses that used to take me to elementary school growing up are down there. They’ve been painted red and those seats that could fit two rather comfortably have four or five people. I’ve seen some kids riding on the roofs of those buses.
The most number of people I’ve seen riding one moped is five. The baby (maybe one or two years) was on the handlbar, a young kid in front of the father who was driving, his wife clutching tightly to him and another kid holding on to her.
I once saw five teenage girls on a single moped late one night on a Saturday. They were obviously drunk and the final girl was basically riding the tire. I’ve seen 20 guys in the back of one pick up-truck. Maybe close to 50 in the back of a dump truck, most of their heads just barely poking out over the top. Strangely, though not really, the two guys up front were spread out and relaxed. The minimum wage here is something like 70 pesos per day. And those days are long. Some businesses refuse to pay those wages, using the same arguments they use in the USA about paying $15 to McDonald’s workers. So, they import their labor from Guatemala. Illegal Guatemalans will do the work for half of what a Mexican will work for. $35 pesos a day. A liter of milk is about 15 pesos. Tortillas are very cheap and a person on a strict budget can find half their ingredients in the hills.