Centre of Attraction

The only people who kept quiet were my parents and that’s because they’ll only know about their darling daughter’s escapade when they read this article.

I took all the pros and cons into account and ultimately decided that I had to do it—it was now or never.

A friend held my hand firmly, reassuring me everytime I winced at the sight of the needle. As I lay on the medical couch at Nail Bar, with its whitewashed walls and smell of anaesthetic and Dettol, the piercing artiste said ‘‘I wanted to create a hospital-like ambience to soothe your nerves.’’ Sure, if you say so, I thought.

He then marked the area with a sketch pen and injected it with local anaesthesia. After which he pricked the area with the needle, while simultaneously pushing in the sample piercing of surgical steel.

‘‘Is it over yet?’’ I asked, blurry-eyed, still reeling under the effect of that virgin needle prick through the epidermis and its steely slide into the dermis. The artiste’s gentle hands ensured the pain was minimum. Meanwhile, my friend—sipping on a steaming cup of coffee—was giving me a point-by-point commentary on the whole procedure.

‘‘Body piercing is equal to inflicting a wound, so you’ll have to take extra effort with the after-care,’’ informed the artiste, as he took off the surgical gloves.

‘‘Just relax and sip some coffee. There’s more to it than the piercing,’’ he added. Belly button piercing might sound like, cool, but there are sacrifices in store. No spicy food and cleaning the pierced area daily with a lukewarm solution of rock salt. ‘‘Man, all this trouble. When do I get the glittering stud?” I pestered him.

I had to make do with a surgical steel rubber piercing for 15 days, which is mandatory. My belly button glittered the very next day and you had to be there to see my alarmist colleagues change their minds when they saw the real thing, the added attraction on my already flat belly. Now, for my folks…