Whenever I see babies with pierced ears I want to tell them I HAD TO FIGHT FOR THOSE whereas they just rolled out of the crib one morning and off they went to Claire's for some badass baby studs.
The point is I have always loved my pierced ears because I had to fight for them (although it must be said after TRQ relented and let me get them pierced when I was 14, she got hers pierced the next day). I never NOT wear earrings. I may be an indifferent dresser. I may be an indifferent makeup- wearer. I may even (some days) be an indifferent-hair comber. But I always wear earrings.
Except when I'm in the grips of a depression. Then I'm all UGH. PUTTING ON EARRINGS TAKES TOO MUCH ENERGY. And also WHO GIVES A DAMN. WE'RE JUST ALL GOING TO DIE ANYWAY.
See what good times are to be had when you're depressed?
Anyway, I had a bad siege this summer. And I stopped wearing earrings. And then one morning I looked at myself in the mirror and said PUT YOUR EARRINGS ON, DAMMIT.
Which I did.
It didn't cure me.
But it was a start.