18 March 2013

Shoot that sterilized arrow through my...

I am watching Dancing with the Stars tonight. A full episode for the first time ever. Call me curious to see what the fuss is about. I’m more of a singing/mudslinging/angst-wringing reality show kind of girl (see: The Voice, The Bachelor, anything on Bravo.) But since so many people I know (and don’t know  -- hi Twitter!) dig this dance-fest, I thought I’d check it out.

The dancing is fun. The costumes are FABULOUS. Tom Bergeron is a dream. I don’t know what I’m watching technically like I do when I watch musicians play/sing or a screeching harpie throwdown on any number of programs, but it’s interesting.

The highlight of tonight’s premiere por moi? Wynonna Judd has her nose pierced. Cool.

A bit of history: I have two – count ‘em, two – piercings. One in ear lobe left and one in ear lobe right. And no ink, save for the periodic marks on my hand when my fountain pen leaks.  For a good part of my life, I eschewed doing anything to alter that – save for maybe getting my ears double pierced so I could put in a pair of diamond studs and look like the rebel Junior Leaguer that I was.  But now that I’m older and more comfortable in my skin, which really is more boho-licious than porcelain-proper in the heart of its cells, I’ve been thinking about doing something unique to express my personality.

I’ve considered getting a tattoo. An ampersand (you know, that fancy “and” symbol from your keyboard) on the inside of my left wrist.  But something inside isn’t leading me that way. No, it’s not the pain – I was in labor and didn’t realize it for three days. I can handle pain, baby. I actually think it’s the idea of something permanent of my own doing. Yes, at least a tat on the wrist won’t suffer the ravages of age – there are going to be millions of tramp stamps fallen to unmentionable places in nursing homes world round in about 30 years. But I still can’t mentally commit to it. The tat that is.

So I’ve been pondering a piercing. Specifically, a nose piercing. Nothing fancy like a ring or hoop on the nostril. Just a little tasteful stud right in the crook of my nose. By the way, I have a great nose for a stud, if I do say so myself.  I would like just a bit of a something-something to make people double-take and nod.

I mentioned this to the mister, who commented that he would bring me home an employee application for Starbucks, since if I got my nose pierced, I’d look just like a barista. And a couple of my close male friends were nonplussed when I ran this crazy idea by them. My gal pals were supportive, even though the phrase "well, it's not something *I* would do, but you would rock it" was uttered more than once.

My own doubts colored things – I’m a woman of a certain age. Am I too old for something like a nose piercing? While I like to show my individuality in dress and attitude, I’m very conscientious about being age-appropriate. I try not to dress too youthfully – just because it fits, doesn’t mean you should wear it, ladies. Ahem. I never want to appear as if I’m trying to maintain my youth. And I strive to wear clothes that flatter, not detract.

Is getting one’s nose pierced crossing the boundaries of what is age-appropriate?

One look at Wynonna tonight, her red hair flying, her curves grooving, her smile beaming  - and her nose pierced -  answered that question for me.

It sure as hell is age-appropriate. And it’s fantastic.

Wynonna is four months older than I am, almost to the day. Sure she’s a public figure. But she’s also a woman of a certain age. And if she can do it, so can I.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so concerned about such things – being age-appropriate and not looking like I’m trying to hold onto my youth.  But I am.  I think there’s a way to be current and savvy and sophisticated without dressing like a mannequin from Forever 21. I’d rather be Forever Fabulous than Forever 21, but that’s another story for another day. And as a curvy girl, it’s to my great benefit to look chic, not cheap. The only sausage casing I want on my bod is my faithful Spanx. And unless we’re really really good friends *eyebrow wiggle*, no one gets to see those.

Thank you, Wynonna. For representing us chicas with junk in the trunk. For being a great role model for us older Gen Xers. And for showing me that conventional opinion be dammed – it’s always OK to express your individuality.

Is Piercing Pagoda still around? ‘Cause if so, I’m headed its way. Boom.

love, your favorite auntie

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