I have naked wrists for the first time in a long time, and it’s weird.
I don’t consider myself one for jewellery, beyond the misguided attempts to rock a gold chain. My brother ruined that by buying me a Mr T-sized fake gold chain. Naturally it didn’t ruin it for me by pointing out the error of my ways and showing I was a dimwit who looked like an arse, no. It ruined it by making my neck go green from wearing it too much.
Ah, to be 12 again. It was a mixed up childhood.
But yeah, not really a person who can successfully wear trinkets. But I’ve always had stuff on my wrists. Plastic bands that were there so long they eventually just snapped – I think they’d fossilised. A wristband that said ‘Evil Ian’ on it that a girl nicked. Numerous festival bands. Even sometimes those temporary bands you get from clubs to say you’re allowed in, at least for a couple of days.
Oh, and watches.
My watch was broken the other week, and yesterday I took off the two Groezrock bands because… well, just because.
Now I have naked wrists. It feels wrong and looks even wronger. I will have to get them tattooed with something so they’re never naked again.