the nosering

I can’t say how it began, the wanting of a nosering. I was around 17, and can’t remember any special trigger or role model. Can hardly remember even seeing or knowing anyone who had one, or, at least, anyone who had one that I liked. A description in a book, perhaps? It came upon me suddenly, I think, as these things* often do, and I waited patiently to see if it would fade. Two years of tireless fantasizing about a tiny gold hoop later, I got my nose pierced, with nary a moment of doubt or disappointment. It was a strange experience because the piercer has to get very near your face to do the job, and the guy who pierced my nose had eyes uncannily like mine, so we were both sort of astonished and distracted the whole time.

*Ex. Right now I want a pair of antique scissors, as a turn of the century florist might have used. Who can say why?

1929661_555998956471_8943_n-2

My being 19 is very poorly documented. I can’t find this one picture. I am maybe 23 here? I’d just been snowboarding. You get the idea. I’ve had it for a while.

So at 19 a tiny hoop melded seamlessly into the architecture of my face (it was instantaneous), and I loved it, and I love it. I hardly see it now (or, am hardly conscious of seeing it), and I think I am not alone. I’ve had friends notice suddenly, many interactions in, wondering if I’d only just gotten it. They mention it and I feel something like surprise, too, having more or less forgotten about it. At which point I say, oh yes, I’ve had this for ages, and feel the pleasure of remembering having once made an excellent decision.

It fits, seems to be the indication. It’s me.

1147687_10101060774770651_1257953039_o

From this look, a favorite.

I like so much finding these things that are me. This Meghan life paraphernalia. My long-lost style brethren.

I’ve been wanting a tattoo for a while…

freckles

When I was a child I liked the idea of having a number of features I did not have. I didn’t necessarily dislike the features I did have, quite the contrary, it was more that I wanted to have some others, too (sort of simultaneously, or interchangeably). Why, for example, could my eyes not be one of my favorite colors, purple or gold? At least some of the time? And shaped more like almonds, please?

What pleasure if I had had auburn hair that fell in loose waves. Why could I not be a bit older? Say, 37?* Some of it was a greener grass thing (wanting straighter hair, for example, which I would not have for anything now), but for the most part they were just preferences plucked out of who knows where. Some chimera of admired people and characters. I remember ardently wishing I had copper scales instead of skin at one point, for a long while.

*For some reason I was very keen to be 37. I don’t know how I came upon this number (at around age 8 or 9 this would have been), or why it stuck, but basically I’m still curious to see what happens, and have high hopes for 37.

And why, why, could I not have even a smattering of freckles?

I have zero freckles.

mdaychild18

This was my favorite blanket, elaborately cross-stitched with Raggedy Ann and Andy. It’s rather raggedy itself now but it survives. I am maybe 6 here. Already showing a penchant for capes. I think all children instinctively understand the appeal of the cape.

I have only a few so-called beauty marks which could not be mistaken for freckles by any stretch. And hyperpigmentation from scarring, which let’s not even talk about.

Freckles are decidedly in at the moment and a lot of fine examples are showing up, reminding me of my old wishlist.

f26a07deeefb3afd4d7792848ed77831

There is such charm in freckles. Often associated with youth but I have found them wonderful on older skin as well. Older women, especially. Older mixed race women especially. They fall now solidly into that category of things I think excellent on other people.

947eb9a7d47cb9fff2f41852bace5113

616adb784f39a31f032e9ed1334ffbf6

I have since learned that I can fake all of the things I once wanted the option of having (I still want those options, basically – I am so consistent as that**), provided I am willing to put in the effort. Which usually I am not, but once in a while, for fun…

I didn’t realize then how easy my concept of interchangeable features would one day be to implement.

**It hasn’t escaped my notice (well, not now, but it did escape my notice for many years), that freckles, purple eyes and wavy auburn hair describe Barbie’s friend Midge, which doll I wanted in a certain incarnation for a few years running, and found unutterably beautiful.

At the same time isn’t it a fine thing to be just as I am? Just more-or-less-with-a-few-tweaks-here-and-there-because-after-all-there’s-always-room-for-improvement as I am?

I think so.

Faux freckles are on the horizon. For one afternoon, at least. Golden eyes, too.

One thing at a time.

images via pinterest