It started, as these things so often do, innocently enough. I agreed to accompany a friend to her appointment at our neighborhood piercing emporium, and then of course—because what I really want is another tattoo and this seemed like a harmless enough stand-in—before long I was ponying up for a piece of the action. And it’s probably a good thing I wasn’t feeling quite hardcore enough to consent to one of those (ouchy-looking) upper-ear pierces like the cool girls have, because I think my little row of hoops feels sweet and feminine; even understated. Not that I don’t imagine I’ll be mixing things up a bit eventually.
Photo by my very talented photographer brother Todd.