Flak Magazine: Review of Field Guide to Stains, 2.12.03

Poor stains. Nobody likes them; everyone wants to get rid of them. And now there is a book dedicated to the hunting down and eradication of stains. Stainologists (um ... yeah ... a totally made up word) can now walk confidently and proudly among their "Field Guide to Birds"-carrying friends, smug in the knowledge that they hold far more important information than how to find smelly old birds. They can conquer smelly old stains.

This 280-page book almost fits conveniently in a pocket and promises to show the reader "How to Identify and Remove Virtually Every Stain Known to Man." Not only does it provide step-by-step instructions for stain removal, it comes with color pictures of 119 stains, general information ("Mayo was invented in 1756"), tips on when the unfortunate stain is mostl likely to happen ("Semen stains increase in occurrence on Feb. 14th"), and areas where they commonly strike (pertaining to beets, "the chest and lap areas of Sunday best attire"). It is an informative, authoritatively-voiced, entertaining tongue-in-cheek book, even if the validity of some stain occurrence claims is a little suspect (I am skeptical that the stains of the more "intimate" nature are really someone's "intimate" stains").

Previously, stain-removal wisdom was passed down through random magazines, from your mother-in-law or, for technologically advanced folks, through Daphne the Stain Detective at Tide.com. Much like the warning to not drink too much lest you wake up in a tub of ice with your organs missing, that advice is often not worth trusting. People think they know exactly what to do, but don't, and crack in stain crises.

Take for instance this scenario: Your spastic, dramatic gesture results in spilling red wine all over your soon-to-be ex-friend's white rat of a dog.

You: "Ohhhhh ... Crap."
Party Guest #1: "Club Soda! Club Soda!"
Party Guest #2: "No, No! Vinegar! Vin-E-GAR!!
Party Guest #3 (while Guest #1 and #2 duke it out with fists and harsh words, because all situations like this quickly escalate to an attack of each other's grandmothers): "Don't smear. Blot, blot, BLOT!

A shriek stage left: "What the hell have you done to my [insert annoying dog name here]?!"

But, with the advent of a "Field Guide to Stains," you can say self-assuredly, "I've spilled my wine all over your yip-yapping dog, but never fear, I have my copy of 'Field Guide to Stains.'" (Now is the part where you brandish the book and flash a pearly white smile.) But don't forget to follow the steps accurately. And it wouldn't hurt to yell, "Out, out damn spot." Well, maybe it will. Nevertheless, the host will be sure to thank you.

But, beware, stain removal is not for the weak-willed (read: lazy). I was going to attempt some at-home stain removal in the name of science and book reviewing, and mostly, entertainment. But as I read, I realized it is not a magic stain removal book. You need things such as borax, liquid enzyme detergent and glycerin. Luckily, there is a glossary in the back that provides a little insight as to what those things are. But once you know what they are, it doesn't mean you necessarily have them in your house. Nonetheless, I do frequently pick up the book and fantasize about vanquishing stains left and right with the ease of Martha Stewart and the charm of a sexy rock star. Although lacking in plot development, "Field Guide" has become my new commute read, and I haven't even washed my clothes in weeks.

This book is a must have for anyone who eats and/or touches anything, knows people who do, is a person, or knows people. Now, if only there were a fix for stains from the hitchhiking chapstick in the dryer with all your clothes, then life would be damn well near perfect.

— Jessica Longo (jessicamlongo@yahoo.com)