Fake septum piercing
She probably dated Lou Reed and sang in 70s punk band. She probably hung out with Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick back in the day. I could tell she was not only a native New Yorker, but an original West Village character. "Your piercing is stunning," she proclaimed before turning and walking away with the fierce intensity of a true fashion diva. Her fingers boasted a myriad of exotic turquoise rings. Her body was wrapped up in a white fur coat, and Jackie O sunglasses were strapped to her pale little face. "You're soooo beautiful," she gasped, taking a long, meaningful puff of her Parliament light 100. Within 20 minutes of wearing my septum in Chelsea, an eccentric woman probably in her early 70s physically stopped me in the street. Fashion icons, super models and the wild weirdos are far more interesting to stare at. As I walk into work each morning, I go largely unnoticed. Lucky for me, I work in the fabulous, funky neighborhood of Chelsea in lower Manhattan. The eccentric lady on the street complimented me. Who knew a seemingly vacant septum piercing would be a window into the societal standards of beauty? I was blown away by the reactions and feelings this piece of metal triggered. So last Tuesday when I adorned my virginal nose with a septum "piercing," snapped a selfie, uploaded it to Instagram and waltzed into work, I had no idea what I was in for. I would describe my personal style as extremely f*cking feminine with a sneaky, subtle edge. I rock a quilted black Chanel bag with an ostentatious gold chain daily. I have long brown hair and am perpetually clad in prim little dresses and towering heels. While I love fashion and am a style risk taker, I'm not the stereotypical facial piercing type. I'm not your typical septum-sporting girl. I wore it for several days, telling my friends, lover, coworkers and strangers that it was real. I ordered a faux diamond septum piercing in the mail, and three business days later it was clipped inside of my nose. It was as if I had announced I was leaving New York, moving to Mars and starting a GoFundMe for astronaut school or was going to do a reality show with Sarah Palin.īut what if I bought a fake septum, acted like it was real and gauged the reactions? The reaction was so aggressive that I felt like I was in an alternate universe. I wasn't expecting any reaction, let alone over 100 comments from strangers and friends alike telling me I MUST DO IT or telling me it WOULD RUIN MY ENTIRE FACE AND TURN ME INTO AN UGLY COW. And as per usual, I spilled my fleeting idea of the moment onto Facebook.
Russo, I decided I HAD to have a septum piercing just like she did. I was born a fashion-obsessed entity who garners inspiration from badass girls with fierce personal style. I admire a girl who's born conventionally beautiful but chooses unconventional fashion over succumbing to the societal standards of "pretty." It would be so easy for Cailin to take basic pictures of herself posing in yoga pants like every other California babe, but instead, she rocks platform goth boots over stilettos and opts for a septum piercing over a spray tan. And just beneath her perfect button nose with its perfect smattering of freckles is an unexpected septum piercing.
It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon, and I had spent the morning lazily carousing Instagram, gazing at my favorite model/girl-crush of the moment, Cailin Russo, and her fashionable feed.Ĭailin Russo is the kind of long-legged, California-girl gorgeous I could never be, with glowing sun-kissed skin, seafoam eyes and effortless blonde beach waves. "I want to get a fashion septum piercing," I thoughtlessly typed into my Facebook status. And, of course, a girl-crush (girls and social media run my f*cking life). It all started with a seemingly simple Facebook status.