Born into one of New Orleans’ oldest and most venerable families, Eugenia Planchette was no ordinary Southern belle. No matter how many governesses informed her that methodically dissecting crawdaddies and baby alligators was NOT ladylike behavior, little Eugenia would not be deterred. Despite her indelicate hobbies, Eugenia grew up to be an uncommonly fetching young lady, so if she was a trifle vain, who could blame her? She was certainly at no loss for suitors when she took up her studies at Tulane (medical school, of course), and her grades seemed impervious to her habit of dancing the nights away in the French Quarters’ most notorious nightclubs. Perhaps it was at one of these that she inadvertently insulted a voodoo priestess or just irked one of her more chemistry-minded classmates, but someone spiked her absinthe with something that caused an inexorable descent into madness. As far as the good doctors could tell, she became convinced that the best way to preserve her youthful appearance would be to remove her face and keep it in the icebox, only to be used when she really “needed” it, and apparently that is exactly what she did. Although the results would have made her a useful instructable for an anatomy class and certainly a pertinent case study in psychiatry, her surgical adventure, needless to say, ended her medical career. What Eugenia lacked in practicality she made up for in execution, however, and in truth the Face (as it came to be called) held up quite well.
Eugenia and her removable face are pictured here in her parlor while her astonished cat, Poutine, looks on.
This original artwork and story are copyright Ramona Szczerba 2008. Copyright to this material is in no way transferable with the sale of this item. The buyer is not entitled to any reproduction rights – neither image nor story can be reproduced without my express written permission. Thanks!