A Hole New World

I wonder sometimes, what my blogging niche is; looking back over my posts there is quite a pot pourri of subjects; there does seem, however, to be a theme developing: the unstoppable march from middle age into the Saga years. Perhaps that's it: if you are on the journey through the middle years, feeling lost and anxious, I will be your guide and friend. I can quite see myself as fearless reporter for the mature reader, prepared to experience and tell you about the wilder side of gardening or how to choose your mid life crisis - goodness knows I seem to be trying a few. And that brings me smartly to my next subject.

You may remember me mentioning that my favourite shop name is Holier Than Thou: a body modification centre on Oldham Street, Manchester. Feeling it would be churlish of me to not understand what they do, I did a bit of research and was, well, enlightened about the amount and type of body modification that can be achieved. It seems that all you need is imagination and a strong stomach. Gone are the days when it was cutting edge to have anything more than a couple of ear piercings or a safety pin in your nose. Whilst I might have considered my single ear lobe hole as daring at the time I have to say that what I saw, stood before the window of Holier Than Thou, made it all same very small beer.

Bus passengers seeing me stood, fascinated, like a child at a toy shop, must have smiled thinking I was plucking up courage to have a bone inserted through my nose or a large hole stretched into my earlobe, but I was simply dumbfounded by the range of possible modifications and jewellery to adorn them. Body modification has moved on, really moved on - or in some ways moved back, because the expansion in modification has embraced traditional techniques used for thousands of years in tribal Africa. There is barely a place on your body that cannot be pierced, stretched or have artistic scarification applied to it.

My research - on your behalf - has in many cases relied solely on the strong stomach developed whilst a nurse to stop me evicting the contents of my stomach. I include here a couple of links if you wish to follow my path into some of the more bizarre areas of body modification; but be warned, the extreme edges of this art are a mixture of eroticism and masochism: pictures of the DIY end of the market are not pretty. Bmezine is a magazine type website for fans of body modification, there are a host of user submitted gallery photographs - do not go lightly into the Extreme or Hard areas of the sight; another interesting site is Infinite Body Piercing that is a very practical introduction to techniques and possibilities: a good place to go if, after reading this post, you are tempted.

Having had my fill of body modification on Oldham Street, I concluded with a stroll down Shude Hill to Victoria Station for my train ride home. Walking along Shude Hill I passed Rambo's Tattoo parlour, a very popular venue for those wishing to make a statement in non-fade American inks; it has been the venue for mid-life statements of many colleagues of mine. I have to say it all looks a bit tame now compared to Holier Than Thou, not least because, thoughtfully, right next door is the laser tattoo removal centre.

Thankfully I am tempted by neither tattoo nor piercing but if, at a weak moment, I was to indulge I could do a lot worse than Holier Than Thou - it all seems very clean and professional.

Oxfam Chic - At A Price

I am not noted for my sartorial elegance, nor for my interest in fashion matters; but, whilst crossing Manchester city centre the other day, my eye was caught by two young people dressed in what I would term Oxfam chic. The phrase deriving from the need of young people to dress stylishly, yet affordably, by searching out second hand clothes emporiums and charity shops. Indeed this was a method of clothing I adopted whilst a student nurse - though, if you ask Mrs C, it was more Oxfam than chic. I was known to wear an ensemble consisting of a RAF great coat, boilerhouse overalls or any other combination of mismatched, discarded garments adopted and adapted from Oldham's flea market. So it was with a fond smile that I viewed these two happy young people tripping carefree through the city streets. Until, that is, I spotted the carrier bag over the arm of the pretty young female; a bag emblazoned with the logo of Viviene Westwood.

"Isn't she one of those fancy expensive designers?" I asked myself; and getting no comprehensible reply hopped off to the expensive part of town to do some journalistic research on behalf of my readers.

Stepping out of my comfort zone (Marks and Spencer) and into the hallowed halls of Harvey Nicholls (where I felt I ought to pay just to cross the threshold), not finding what I wanted and having the burning gaze of people who could tell at a glance that I didn't belong, I left and continued my research in the classy part of town around King St and St Anne's Square. There I found Hervia; a quick peep through the window and I knew immediately that the down at heel appearance of my two student types was nothing more than an expensive copy of the real thing.

Needing reassurance that all was not lost in the world of clothes, I trecked back across town to the seamier, but far more interesting area around Oldham Street - where, incidentally, sits my most favourite of shop names: a body modification and piercing parlour entitled 'Holier than thou' - and went into Affleck's Palace the home of alternative clothing, alternative jewellery, alternative music and alternative haircuts. I sighed happily, transported for a moment back to my youth, as I saw that Oxfam Chic still existed and far surpassed the expensive imitations of King St.