I was talking body ornamentation with Bernadette Noll the other day.
She'd just treated her 15-year-old niece to a navel piercing at the Seaside Heights boardwalk in New Jersey. (Ah, Sleazeside Heights, summertime and
Joisey white trash Bernadette and I lost ourselves in brief reminiscence.)
It seems to me that navel piercings on the boardwalk are so... non-threatening. They're child's play like Piercing Mildred, a cartoon girl you get to pierce, and then help heal. (As far as I know, Mildred existed long before Tamagotchi fever hit this country.) Now, I've known for a while that my own navel and nose piercings were somewhat less than extreme. But do you wanna know what is extreme? There are strict definitions, according to the Body Modification E-zine (Tagline: "hack your body." I like that.) Actually, there's extreme piercing and then there's technical piercing. The former makes even jaded piercers say "woah, dude"; the latter refers more to the procedure, and the level of skill required in the piercer. A pierced uvula, for example. Talk about cartoonish piercing when does anyone think about their uvula, except when some toon opens its mouth and screams?
Speaking of piercing, some 54-year-old woman in Virginia just got arrested for animal cruelty. The police found a fawn with pierced ears in the back of her pickup truck. It's sort of sad, really. The woman just wanted a pet, and I guess she figured if parents can pierce their 3-year-old daughter's ears, then why can't she pierce a deer?
Maybe I'll just go get me some mehndi. Liv and Gwen and the unmentionable Artist tell me
this ancient Indian art of henna body painting is the modification of the moment. And best of all, it isn't permanent. You could probably even do it to your pets.
Emma Taylor is the editor of Tripod's Women's Zone. Her e-mail is emma@tripod.com.