Thursday, October 06, 2005
the etymology of "madamerouge"
January, 2001. Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico. The San Marino Hotel. A rainy day. Jason, myself, and our other friends spend the day downing Pacifico and blender drinks. Dinner is consumed on the beachside patio of the hotel. A beach vendor walks by and asks us all our names. Jason does the honours. "I'm bitch, that's miss thing, that's whore, and that's (pointing to me) madame rouge." We all laugh. (I had been faithfully applying my spf 30, but I think I was a bit red at that point of the trip.) Half an hour later, the vendor returns with a painted seashell bearing the name madame rouge. Uproarious laughter ensues; Jason peels out some money and buys me the shell from the vendor. It is still proudly displayed on a bookshelf in my apartment.