About a year ago, I would certainly never have considered piercing myself. I believed that intentionally inflicting pain to my person was madness - of the unhealthy sort. Despite my aforementioned opinion, one day, on the spur of a reckless streak, I decided to get myself pierced. I walked into a piercing parlor at a mall I was working at and asked the man working there what piercing I should have done.
At A Glance Author jinc Contact jinc@bme.anon IAM jinc When A year ago Artist Eddie Graham Studio Wicked Studios Location Johannesburg The instant the words left my mouth, I felt stupid asking. I guess I expected him to have a list or something that I could choose from... or maybe a suggestion of what he thought was "different" or cool.
Fortunately, the response I got was not insulting or equally as stupid. The man suggested I surf the web for something I wanted and think on it. So, after a fair amount of research, I came across my first pictures of a corset piercing. They had been done captive-bead-ring-style and the instant I saw them, I was enamored. It simply made me dizzy just to look at the combination of bare flesh, ribbon and metal.
In two words, it was insanely beautiful.
I was fired on by a new sense of direction, and, after many more hours of reading all that I could find online related to corset piercing, I had gathered enough information to understand that these were, at best, temporary piercings. But I wanted them to be permanent - for the pain I was going to have to go through to get them, they were going to have to have to offer me more of a lifespan than a heartbreaking week or two. The suggested solution (also on BME) was a corset done via surface bars - with attached rings on the balls.
The search for a good piercer then began. I went back to the first store I had visited and met a different piercer. The dude I had met before just an apprentice there. He said that only he (U.K. trained and experienced) and another piercer called Eddie (with his own studio elsewhere) were, of all the piercers in Johannesburg, the only ones with enough skill and experience to do a surface bar piercing the right way.
His statement alone got me thinking. How hard exactly was it to do a surface piercing? I re-examined my idea and began to appreciate just how unusual what I was planning to do was.
Unanswered questions I had been stifling resurfaced and began to flit through my mind. How fast would they reject? How would I sleep, sit up in chairs and drive around? How many could I possibly fit onto my back? How sore would it be? How soon would I heal? When would I be able to lace up? And where on earth would I buy some semi-decent clothes with a big hole in the back?
Anyway, I got a quote from him at that point for about 9 pairs of piercings, and was blown away by the price. I then decided to check a few other piercing and tattoo parlors. At one point I came across an piercer who claimed that what I wanted could not be done. I decided not to argue but rather asked about her experience, I was met with a blank stare, a quick mumble and hasty retreat from my line of questioning.
Along the way, I began to hear more and more about Eddie. How he had done this, that or the other suspension/piercing/procedure for a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend and how remarkable his skill was. After a few months of saving and further research, I obtained Eddie's number and decided to get in touch with the famed man himself.
I called to make an appointment, and despite not the fact that he was not actively doing much piercing at that time, he was kind enough to take the time to see me.
With my then-boyfriend in tow, I went over and met the man for myself. Short in stature and middle aged, he was very talkative and had an engaging personality. I could almost feel a glow and energy radiating from him. It seemed like his every mumbled order was carried out by his staff with an almost sacrosanct respect.
I mentioned the words 'corset piercing' and Eddie's unequivocal response was: "They will reject." He began to wholly and thoroughly discourage me from the idea of a traditional corset until I mentioned that I wanted it done using surface bars. At this point he became interested in what I was asking him to do.
He conceded bars would definitely be a better option than captive bead rings but would end up migrating as well as possibly rejecting. We discussed the ideas, the placement and, eventually, the cost.
More than anything else, I knew I wanted this man to do my piercing. He knew what he was talking about and had, more importantly, the experience to back it up.
Around functionality, as we talked, he stated what I had already found out from research. Firstly, and obviously, he wanted to start the lowest piercings just at the point above the iliac crests of my hips to allow space for me to belt up. He would also measure out the higher ones as well as allow a gap for my bra strap.
Esthetically, he voiced novel ideas. Too high and the pairs would be too close to each other (between my scapulae) to have the intended effect and there was no way, Eddie said, he was going to pierce over bone. He added the fact that he wanted me to have fewer sets of piercings than I had requested, and that the few, he would space out along my back so that they didn't, when laced up, make me look short. He would also do the piercings in such a manner that they gradually formed a pyramid up, away from my sacrum.
Eddie would also space then them more laterally than was the norm so that I could sleep on my back without excessive pressure on them directly from my spine, as well out of the way of most of my weight as I slept.
In a short space of time, Eddie took the simple idea I presented him and turned the process into his orchestra. He helped direct my decisions, cemented ideas and interpreted my suggestions. He answered my questions and made me feel confident again about what I wanted. I was delighted when he took my booking with him for the 10th of June, 2005.
But, as the time grew closer a lot of things just started to go wrong. Expenses crept up, I became single once again, my studies piled up and things got ridiculously busy. Worst of all, I had no way of traveling to the studio as I neither knew bus routes nor had a car of my own to drive there. I began to wonder whether the universe was sending me a subliminal message.Out of desperation, I approached my mother and asked her to drive me there.
She predictably responded to my request with a torrent of threats, arguments and heated discussions along the lines of: "You'll be naked in front of a stranger!?! And a MAN!! ALONE!!!" As well as her favorite line, "If you don't have anything better to do with your money - give it to me." Fortunately, as a consequence of my unceasing wheedling, pleading, exceptional negotiation and subtle manipulation, mommy finally gave in – gracefully, of course.
The day finally came, and Eddie and I sat down, this time in the piercing room, and reviewed the positioning of the piercings. Advice I had read suggested that one should attempt one or two piercings at first to see how my body handled them, so I asked for just that, then Eddie left it to me as to where I wanted to place the first two. I wavered and dithered and couldn't decide.
At this point, mommy, who had been quietly sitting in the corner ("Observing," as she had unhappily insisted, "for [my] personal safety.") quietly suggested I go for the lowest set first. "You could show them off easier anyway." She added. At that moment, I wanted to hug her. I loved her.
With that decision out of the way, we were off.
The sensation of sitting up, half-dressed, in a breezily air-conditioned room, straddling a red leather barber's chair, with a solitary, warm light glowing over my goose-bumped back was calming. Accompanied by the gentle touch of Eddie's capable, professional hands I was whisked into a different world. Gently erotic, almost serene - save for the fact that I was actually waiting to get gored in the back.
After an hour, Eddie was done. He had patiently marked out three pairs of piercings. Painstakingly measured them, wiped clean, marked and remarked till he was satisfied. He handed me a mirror and asked what I thought of the placement. I was good with it.
Marked out were three pairs - six potential piercings in total, all below my bra-line, and spread out along my lower back. He then took digital snapshots of the markings, and said he would print them out for future reference. Thereafter he meticulously measured the jewelry and had it sterilized.
He then changed gloves and then drew my attention to what he was doing next. "I'm taking out the needles. Look... sealed and sterile," he paused and showed my mom too. "Happy?" I most certainly was.
Then he said he would be injecting some local anesthetic. Up until that point, I hadn't given the pain much thought, because I know I would have chickened out had I given myself that chance.
In hindsight, I realize that this simple step alone probably made my experience so much more than two painful jabs. My back had been tense with anticipation of the pain, and not having to endure it was a relief. I could relax and enjoy what was happening.
After the lignocaine was in, I could focus on everything his hands did. He asked me to arch my back so his fingers could get a good grip of my skin. Then the sensation of the piercing needle as it was inserted... the cannula as it sat latently in my skin, then the kink in the jewelry as one arm of the metal slid into my back, and finally, the gentle cool of the screwed-on balls as they rested against my flesh.
It felt amazing.
Using a second mirror to have a look, it was spectacular. There sat four silver gems snuggling against my lower back, shimmering against my dark brown skin. Eddie was also rather pleased with the result and called in one of his assistants to give an opinion. The younger guy was blown away. He couldn't tear his eyes off me.
I paid Eddie and said I would certainly call again in the next month or so. He offered advice, "Wash with Protex. NO creams or oils and they will be fine." His general Leave It the Hell Alone approach worked wonders and, in the next few months, I followed up with two more visits and had the other four piercings done. On these follow-up visits, Eddie was quite happy with the healing process of the preceeding pair.
The eventual corset itself was stunning. When all were relatively healed after about 9 months, I laced them up in black and went out for the evening. Wherever I looked, my back was the focus of everyone's rapt attention. It enveloped me as pure art, and I became the canvas.
I was thrilled that I was able to keep the lowest piercings for a whole year until I was forced to take them both out a week ago. Gravity had drawn the left piercing to a forty-five degree angle and, despite still being embedded in my flesh, two beads of skin had, interestingly, begun to grow down over the piercing and these, occasionally, slightly bled.
The right-sided piercing, however, was in the final throes of rejection - the arms were totally outside my skin and only the body of the bar anchored it to me. I had also been experiencing what I could only describe as 'rejection pain': a sharp, uncomfortable burning and pain at the site of the piercing. I was tired of it and wanted to do something to stop it, so I said goodbye to two of my babies on Tuesday the 4th of July and did a DIY extraction in the bathroom that morning.
When I pulled them out, the center of the bars were the most heavily coated pus, owing to their distance from the drainage points. All the same it didn't hurt to remove them as much as I had expected. However, I underwent some slight bleeding afterward owing to trauma caused by passage of the far arm of the bar on the inside of the fistula formed by the piercing.
For the moment, the bars lie among my other jewelry - waiting to be re-inserted one day.
My 'corset' has led me to encounter different people with different reactions toward it: curiosity and amazement from little kids (whom I always encourage to get pierced); middle aged adults often wear shocked and scandalized expressions and quite often rudely point at me while yammering away in astonishment behind my back.
Generally, however, awe and subdued respect emanate from the pierced fraternity - toward both Eddie, for his legendary skill, and me - for having the guts and fortitude for having actually done and having (almost, I guess?) healed something different and challenging for a change.
My advice to anyone wanting any piercing, corset or otherwise, would to do some thorough research before you embark on any new project.
Undoubtedly, the most valuable, practical advice will come from an experienced and professional piercer, but at least with a little foresight and knowledge, you may be able to pick out the bullshit piercers before unwittingly subjecting your body to their skill – or lack of it.
You owe it to yourself to ask questions – even stupid ones.
Most of all, enjoy the experience.