My Nose Ring

Have your nose pierced whilst traveling at your own peril, my friends.

When I was little, I believed everything my parents said. Like, “If you get any extra piercings you will not be allowed in this house.” Six earrings and a nose ring later and I won. It wasn’t until I went traveling after school, though, that I had the opportunity for this almighty rebellion. I was so impatient that had a man been able to pierce my nose right there and then in the arrivals lounge, I’d have done it. Instead, I let my friend dump her bags in our Rio de Janeiro place of residence for exactly 0.2 seconds and then made her come search for a piercing salon with me, in a country where we couldn’t speak even a pleasantry.

I may have swaggered out of the salon feeling more badass than if I’d had the entire Last Supper tattooed across my back, but it was not without its issues. There was so much blood my friend almost fainted and I was forced to spend an entire year afterwards picking my nose. Honestly, the shit that gets stuck up there once you have a piercing — my nostril felt like a landfill site.

Sometimes I think about taking it out. I’m 27 now; am I too old? Is it too much? Is my sweater ever going to get over my head, or will I merely have it dangling from my nose for eternity? I have to take it out every time I have my picture taken for my Sunday Times Style column and when I put it back in, it goes bulbous and red and sore for a week. Which probably isn’t entirely worth it. But then, it’s not like a tattoo, right? People might identify it quickly, but it’s discreet; it’s removable.

Piercings have long been considered a way to denote aspects of the personality: “Oooooh, she’s edgy, she’s got a lip ring,” and so forth. I do notice – like with anyone who uses social media as a platform to promote their work – that people call my nose ring “cool,” as if there’s a sad way to look and a badass way to look, when in reality there’s just one way or another.

It’s thrilling that something so small can have such an effect on public opinion, and for me, it is a way of controlling other people’s perception, which is something I think we also do subconsciously through clothing choices, haircuts, makeup preferences and even body shapes. I’m small and have a short blonde bob and therefore fall into a detestable category known as “cute” – I don’t want to be cute. I don’t think it matches who I am. So I’m on a constant, gradual and subtle endeavor to offset that adjective.

I give the color pink a wide berth; a nose ring certainly, undeniably, helps.

When you get your nose pierced, the hole never actually closes up. So one day when I’ve jettisoned all my metal accouterments and I’m still able to trace my finger over that vacant spot, I do wonder if I’ll wish I hadn’t left in my nose a hole that no foundation can cover, no doubt with sweet nostalgia.

Pandora is the Fashion Features Editor and Wardrobe Mistress at London’s The Sunday Times Style supplement and founder of pandorasykes.com. Follow her on Twitter @pinsykes.

Images via pandorasykes.com