But now I feel really old.
I was 16 when I had my first piercing. It was a bejeweled belly-button bar, and for the most part, nobody ever saw it – which was, well, boring and pointless. As I hit university (and fuelled by a love of heavy metal, baggy jeans and all things macabre) I became something of a human pincushion, getting my lip done (in three places) and nostril pierced and stretching my ear lobes (the left one is still slightly cat bum-ish.) My final addition? A septum ring – one of the most painful piercings of them all. Imagine tweezing a nostril hair, and then multiply that misery by a million and you’re there.