It's interesting how even when you are considered an adult, so many of your childhood memories come back to you and influence your daily decisions, not to mention the ones that are for life.
At A Glance Author Jezebel Contact Jezebel@bme.anon IAM jezebel When It just happened Artist iam:JesseV Studio Thrive Studios Location Cambridge, ON, Canada As small girls, most of us can remember many things that were basic commonalities. They are not the rule, but definitely very widespread: dresses, dolls, wanting to create in any way possible, wanting to explore, and emulating those that we admired. If you ask every four-year old girl who or what she aspires to be, you will get a lot of different answers. I remember some common ones from my own childhood friends: Barbie, a mom, a ballerina, a princess, a doctor. At the age of three, I did indeed want to be a dancer, and frequently begged my mother to put me in dance classes. I also begged her to curl my hair in cute little ringlets and make me have dimples.
You see, I adored Shirley Temple. In the movies I watched with my Nana, I would see this beautiful little girl full of charisma and charm. Her smile always won me over, and nearly as often as my Nana would tell me what a pretty little girl I was, she would say "That Shirley Temple is a beautiful gel." Every time I went out to a restaurant with any family as a treat, what do you think I ordered? A Shirley Temple, of course! And when walking across the hardwood floors, I'd always put on my fancy black patent leather dress shoes and try to make tapping noises, just like Shirley.
But, as I got older, I realized that I was not blond, and trying to keep my straight hair in those perfect ringlets would require a full-time stylist following me around. I had one tiny little dimple by the left corner of my mouth that would never measure up to Ms. Temple's, and my mother was very right in denying the constant demands to be put in dance, because I was quite simply one of the clutziest children around. I began to take joy in my own ways; climbing trees, playing basketball or soccer, games of tag or hide-and-go-seek with the neighbourhood children or stealing my little brother's Tonka trucks or G.I. Joes to play in the sandbox. I evolved into a little tomboy rather quickly, and aspired to be a veterinarian. Shirley was quickly forgotten in the whirlwind of self-discovery that accompanies all childhood, and the only time she resurfaced was when I went out to a special restaurant to celebrate something with my family – I still ordered myself a Shirley Temple.
Fast forward a many more years, and a healthy obsession with piercing has taken root. As the years go by, I gain more exposure and even get up the nerves to get a few for myself. By the time I was 18, I had my first encounter with "dimple piercings" at a party I went to. There was an adorable boy with sparkling eyes and an engaging smile that was flanked with two beautiful metal balls. They were absolutely divine. A friend of mine became immediately obsessed with gaining a set of her own, but I was happy just to admire them on others.
As I got more interested in piercing, as well as other forms of modification, they became one of the items I added to my mental "to do" list. Until recently, though, I never had a time that they were at the top of that list.
Anyone who has more than one piercing knows the "itch." It's when you know you want to get something done, and it pulls at your mind every day. You begin to dream about it, and think about it almost non-stop. You contemplate your anatomy, and how it will look when you've altered it again. I woke up one day a few weeks ago with this itch, so I took a walk down to Thrive Studios and consulted with Jesse. I told him about my plans to attempt suspension for the first time, as well as other plans that I had in mind. I also said that I wanted something pierced, right now, but was unsure which part of my body to invade. We spoke about it for a bit, and had to rule out a few options due to other planned projects. In the end, we decided to leave it, and let my body be at it's best for the suicide I was going to attempt in less than a week.
After some more deliberation, as well as the suspension, I walked back into Thrive and told Jesse that I had settled. I knew what I wanted next. I asked him about cheek piercings, and what it would involve. We talked about it again, as well as some small scar work that I wanted him to do for me. He admitted that he had never performed any but wouldn't mind trying. I felt that I was as good a candidate as any, and I guess he did to, because he didn't try to dissuade me. I left things as they were with the piercing and opted for the scar work first. A few weeks later, I called Jesse back up and asked him how long I would have to give him to ensure that he had everything in stock to perform the procedure. We set an appointment over the phone, and things were set. It would be sooner than I expected by a few days, but I was happy all the same.
A weekend of poking my cheeks and looking in every mirror I passed, imagining sparkly little additions to my face. I spoke with a few other people who had them in the mean time, as a preparatory course on what to expect with the procedure as well as healing and aftercare.
Tuesday finally arrived, and I headed back into Thrive for my 7:00 appointment. I was happy to see that it was business as usual, and everyone working was kept busy. I really enjoy seeing the success that has been achieved by everyone who works there, and know that they deserve it. We got a bit of a late start due to the volume again, though. I eventually took my usual seat in the chair, and got settled in for what was new territory for everyone involved.
Jesse handed me a little cup of mouthwash, and as I swished, I investigated the layout on the counter. There was a good amount of PTFE, clamps, needle, balls, gentian violet, towels, and all of the rest of the usual accoutrements. A cleansing of the exterior cheek area, and the fun part began. With gentian violet and a toothpick, Jesse began to mark out the lines on my face and trying to work with the somewhat asymmetrical anatomy of my smile. With Laura's assistance, we managed to add, remove and replace many purple lines and dots all over my cheeks. The three of us agreed that we had found the optimal placement, and gave a quick shout for Donna to also come check. A fourth in agreement made the decision, and Jesse had me tilt my head back and lean to my right. He clamped my right cheek, lining everything up just right, and used a flashlight to ensure that nothing was in the way. I was more than glad to hear that my cheeks made me a good candidate for these piercings, as there were no veins or large groupin gs of capillaries that would cause problems. He opted for piercing through from the outside to ensure that things stayed aligned so nicely, with a jewellery follow-through from the inside, as it would be much easier to screw on the second ball from the outside.
I do not think I will ever be truly fully prepared for the stab of a needle through my flesh, and as Jesse requested the usual "deep inhale, exhale" the needle pierced through the first layers of skin. It was sharp and unusual in comparison with other piercings that I have experienced. I could feel the sensation of the needle sliding through the thicker layers of tissue, and I was almost sure that we were done, but the final layers of tissue on the inside of my mouth felt as if they were stretching around the needle and as it finally broke through, I could feel a small "popping" sensation. He inserted the PTFE from the inside, and removed the clamps, followed by the needle. As soon as the pressure of the clamps and needle were off the skin, there were some blood trickles down the side of my face, and he focused on those. I know that my body tensed during the procedure, and I guess I was looking a little flushed, because Laura kindly offered me some water. I refused for the moment, sounding to myself like I was at the dentist's office with something in my mouth. It was a new sensation trying to talk around a little metal bead in my cheek. I asked instead for a moment to calm myself again before proceeding with the second one.
This time I leaned to the left and back, allowing Jesse to clamp my left cheek and do it all over again. There really wasn't any variance from one side to the other. I raised my head back up and had a little giggle at the weight of the long white whiskers I had grown. Laura took a few pictures for me, and Jesse trimmed the excess length off, leaving ample room for the inevitable swelling. He threaded the ends and added the last balls. I sat for a moment longer, getting my bearings and making sure I wouldn't get dizzy. We talked about aftercare, and I got myself up out of the chair.
I said my farewells and left Thrive once again a happily mutilated customer, ready to face another new journey in healing and future adornments.
Today at lunch, I had something new to celebrate and ordered myself a Shirley Temple. Cheers!