Growing up

Princess Pea had her ears pierced as a birthday present. She has been nagging for years, and I had always said not until she was sixteen. Then I remembered how two of my younger sisters dealt with a similar edict: behind the garage with a cork and a needle.

This was the week she was able to take out the piercing studs, so we went out to our local hideous big shopping centre and hunted earrings. Princess chose some very lovely luminously bluegreen studs made, we were told, of crushed opal and some cheeky little ones for everyday. (She hasn't quite settled on her style, there were agonies of decision over the artfully mismatched skulls vs the cute little animals.) We had to track down a particular type, because everyone was wearing them, but didn't buy them, because everyone is wearing them and she wants to be individual. Oh to be twelve again!