My father used to (and perhaps still does) keep a jug of bleach in the shower, and rub himself down in it because he was convinced it kept him healthy and smelling nice. It can't be good for your skin even as diluted as most OTC bleach is, and the truth is that he doesn't have a strong body odor due to genes and diet. My father has always had some whackadoo beliefs, the Art Bell type, and yet somehow this same woo junky introduced me to the wonders of science at a very early age. In the 70's my dad also affected tobacco pipes. He only very rarely smoked one, because he always struggled to keep it lit, and the times he kept it lit he would inevitably burn his tongue. Instead, he had a small collection of nice pipes that he would hold in his mouth and gesture with (even though they typically remained devoid of tobacco). Back then my father was also super-duper into studying indigenous American cultures, collected indigenous art, jewelry, and clothing, would regularly take us to pow wows (fry bread power!), and perform practical anthropological experiments (like growing heirloom "Indian" varieties of corn, squash, and beans, as well as using handmade tools to skin, tan, and make clothing out of deer hide). He definitely danced right on the line between exploring a deep historical interest, and cultural appropriation.