These were the American Music Awards, never the high point of televised trophy-tossing tastefulness to begin with. But as the Cirque du Sayonara spectacle of Katy Perry's opening number unfurled, my jaw slowly dropped until it nearly rested against my collarbone.

There was Perry, in full kimono, tabi socks, lacquered hair and geiko pancake, belting out her latest smash hit. Her traditional outfit had been tightened at the bust with a triangular cutout designed to accentuate rather than flatten her generous bosom, and the sides cut to the waist to expose her pearlescent American legs. And she was surrounded by a throng of acrobatic maiko, their faces rollered with fat streaks of kabuki makeup, who provided energetic fan-flapping as backup — at least until they started flying and somersaulting through the air.

In short, this was a a full-barreled technicolor assault on a quarter-millennium-old set of traditions that would've given any self-respecting denizen of Kyoto's Gion District a massive fatal heart attack. But Perry's whiteface/yellowface performance was also a harsh reminder of how deeply anchored the archetype of the exotic, self-sacrificing "lotus blossom" is in the Western imagination.

You see, Perry's new single is called "Unconditionally," and unlike her usual anthems to sassy pubescence, it's a song that's basically about being a doormat for the very special loutish Englishman in your life:

Unconditional, unconditionally

I will love you unconditionally

There is no fear now

Let go and just be free

I will love you unconditionally