My research involves spending a lot of time on high school campuses, which beyond making me relive tedious high school classes, observe dramas worthy of soap operas, and cringe at the gangly awkwardness, gives me a good synopsis of teenage haute couture. I got to see the hipster movement filter through the popularity ranks. I saw the proliferation of 90′s plaid cut in 80′s mod and I witnessed the mass resurgence of Uggs paired with Daisy Dukes. I know I’m getting old when I look at these kids immersed in the movement of purported irony and think out loud, “You kids don’t know what you’re talking about. In my day…” With those three words “in my day” I’m transported from young and hip to old and geezerly.
Still I don’t say this too often. My initial dismay has worn down and I’m starting to like the look of the flat-footed, knee-high boots over skinny jeans, and I can appreciate the concept of the movement even if fashion flew ahead of thought on this one.
But I met my match today. I saw someone who made me channel my inner New Yorker and my senses were appalled. I saw a girl with barbell piercings in the middle of her cheeks. Now I have nothing against piercings at all. And I have nothing against multiple piercings. Depending on the piercing and the person, I think they can be quite flattering. But this little chicklet had an eyebrow piercing, two nose piercings, piercings on her top lip, piercings on her bottom lip, and one piercing in the center of each cheek. And those are just the ones on her face. Granted, a piercing in the middle of your cheek is no more or less arbitrary than one on your eyebrow or tongue or ear. But I’m sorry; teenagers have acne. And when your piercings are warring with your zits for space on your face, you’ve done something wrong.
What happened? Did she give up on a smooth complexion entirely and instead decide to rival the moon’s surface? Did she think that a surplus of bright shiny metal balls would draw attention away from the bright shiny red ones? What would possess a person to do that to themselves? Does she really look in the mirror and think, “Hey, I look good”?
The logic in this fashion statement is beyond me. Although, having gotten my rant out, I suppose something might be said for being able to squirt your soda out of multiple orifices with one good belly laugh.