Her mom told her not to do it. But back then, Lucy Hale was only 15, and the world was smack in the middle of Britney mania, of spray-tanned midriffs and whale-tailing thongs, of low-rise denim's prime time. Who among us did not at least consider getting their belly button pierced?
Lucy did more than consider. "I had the long, dangly, trashy…" she gestures in what I believe is the universal sign language for "mall kiosk's finest, circa 2004." Pulling up the bottom of her ribbed white tank top, she reveals the hole beneath her navel that has never closed. "It took me so long to convince my mom," she remembers. "And then I didn't have the nerve to tell her that after a month, I hated it."
One might think this cautionary tale would end with "...and I never pierced anything again." But we're currently standing in a back room at Maria Tash, the bougie piercing boutique in New York City's SoHo neighborhood, because Lucy, who just turned 30, is here for piercing number 10. And maybe 11, "if I'm feeling really insane."
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