The skunk, I am told here, is a member of the weasel family, which may come in brown, ginger, or cream colors as well as black, almost always have stripes or other warning marks, and almost never, ever bite. This is all very well for science on the Interwebs. In postcards (as well as other media), they are black and white animals that smell bad, and are fairly amused to do so.
As such, they were frequent stars of postcards meant as apologies, either for not writing, or for other indiscretions. Calling yourself a stinker was a jovial way of admitting a mistake, not unlike the numerous postcards in which one compares oneself to a jackass or a horse’s backside. Since apologizing while smiling shows you are SHEEPish, perhaps this just argues that cityfolk don’t know one four-legged mammal from another.
What’s interesting about these postcards from the Fifties is that this was a time when the word “stink” was largely taboo in the movies or on radio. We were a little more liberal when it came to print media.
Though in some cases, you were allowed to use the word if it did NOT refer to odor: somebody could be stinking drunk (as here) or stinking rich with less offense. (Perhaps because “stinking” was probably substituting here for a more potent word.)
We see here a more careful wording for the 1940s. “Smell” was still iffy, but not so much as “stink”.
“Scent” was perfectly acceptable, though this was generally utilized for pun purposes.
I think I have mentioned before that this artist’s skunks are among the cutest in the postcard world, however regrettable the puns or the bizarre anatomy.
But there were plenty of ways artists could refer to the odor of a skunk without describing it in so many words. (I might just pause for a moment here to object to a couple of cartoon cliches here. First of all, does a skunk smell like a skunk even when not on the attack. Or is Uncle Ezree only mildly skunklike? And though I understand the principle, did anybody ever actually seriously use clothespins to block off their organs of scent? The style the lady is using here would seem to me to break if really shoved down over a human nose, and the springloaded type would probably hurt too much to be worn for very long. And, anyhow, she’s got hers way at the tip of her nose, where they’re not going to block her nostrils, unless she’s built like those animals which have the…where were we?)
This chap has more of the right idea: clutching his nose down by the nostrils. You will note that in both these pictures, the skunk is very happy with the reaction of the humans involved. It’s as if the skunks enjoyed being outcasts, stuck on the fringe of society, left alone to follow their own purposes.
Until World War II came along, of course, and all types were called into the emergency work force. Even stinky patriots were welcome. (No relation to the football team similarly monikered.)
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