After two years, it's time to write about my sad eyebrow experience.
At A Glance Author lovejunk IAM lovejunk When Two years ago Artist Kira Studio Metalmorphosis Location Dublin, Ireland Like most kids, I found my parents to be opposed to the idea of mods, so for the longest time I had shopping mall, gun pierced lobes and that's it. I had actually taken those out because of problems with jewelry; butterfly-backed studs are a haven for infection. Two of my friends had their navels pierced one summer and I wanted it too, but was not permitted.
That year I went to Ireland for a month to take a high school English credit (a great experience in itself). There was a shop in trendy Temple Bar called Metalmorphosis, where several of my classmates had gone to get their ears and cartilage pierced. Near the end of the month, one of my girlfriends invited me along to her nipple piercing appointment. I liked the look of the shop, and the friendly demeanor of the staff. I made an appointment for the next day for my eyebrow. I chose that location because I've always thought it looks sexy. It was also not very common among people I knew or went to school with. Being over 16 I did not need permission, all I did need was £32.
Another friend, a girl who was almost my twin, also had an appointment that day for her nostril. She and I and our friends ate at the Bad Ass Café down the street from Metalmorphosis (a nice restaurant that has the most interesting sugar packets), hit the bank machines and went on our way.
I don't remember if my friend or I went first, but when it was my turn, Kira led me into a small room and talked about the piercing. I chose the left side. She showed me the jewelry, and in my uninformed condition, no alarm bells rang that it was a straight barbell. I asked her for a curved one instead, but she told me they only did it with straight ones and I conceded.
I was sitting up during the procedure, and watching my distorted reflection in the walls of riveted steel. I was very excited about this, only a touch worried that across the pond my parents hadn't a clue what I was doing. The clamps felt very nice, it was definitely a pleasing sensation. The needle, too, felt very good. The problem I find is that some piercings just don't last long enough. While I was enjoying this sensation, the jewelry was going in and I was done, long before I wanted to be. I thanked Kira and took a picture with her, and we left.
My lodgings were with a family that lived nearby the school I was attending, and my home stay "mother" didn't notice my alteration right away. When she did she screamed – with amusement. She liked it very much, which gave me hope for my own mother. I told my Dad what I had done in an email and he replied that he knew I wanted it and wasn't surprised I had done it. He said my Mom wasn't pleased. Getting off the airplane though, she gave me a quick glance, said "It doesn't look horrible", which to me meant acceptance.
All of this took place in July, and while I thought the piercing was just healing really well, it was migrating out. I had been following the care instructions, wasn't playing with it with dirty hands, slept carefully as I could to avoid irritating it, and showed it off all time. My Grandmas even liked it.
By October, I could see the shape of the barbell through my skin. The fact was that there wasn't much skin over the piercing holding it in. A friend who had hers done much earlier than I did was having the same difficulty, and I watched her piercing progress through migration until there was only some crusty stuff holding it in. I was worried that I was heading for the same thing.
Seeking professional advice, I visited Stainless Studios and Way Cool Tattoos for a second opinion. At both places, I was told it was migrating and would leave my face whether I wanted to or not. This made me very sad; I really liked how it looked and felt and I'd only enjoyed it for three months. A few days later, in the kitchen, I took it out, and cried.
The scar this experience left behind reminds me daily of the importance of research into a modification to one's body. On the other hand, it also reminds me of the good times I had in Ireland and the people who shared the experience with me. Always in the back of my mind is the desire to replace my retired eyebrow, properly and permanently. I've undergone several modifications since then, but just like my scar, that desire hasn't faded.