During the early noughties, I pierced hundreds of ears at Claire’s Accessories, the chain store that collapsed into administration last month in the UK. These piercings rarely went smoothly and the evidence often resurfaced: a wonky earring here, a scar there. Good riddance (unemployment notwithstanding), then, to this lavender blight on teen culture.
After a week or two of mutilating cardboard ears, I was let loose on real ones
I had just turned 16 when I joined Claire’s and my Saturdays became filled with blood, sweat and tears. I recently saw a meme posted by a Gen Z colleague mocking a millennial for career advice that advocated walking around a city centre handing out CVs. That’s exactly how I got this, my first retail job (the otherwise superfluous National Record of Achievement might even have made an appearance). Inevitably, I was attracted to the faux eponymous association.
After a week or two of mutilating cardboard ears, I was let loose on real ones. I have friends who, quite reasonably, wouldn’t leave their young teenagers in charge of feeding the dog. I, on the other hand, was responsible for a – highly unreliable – gun which appeared to be primarily designed for use on cattle. Shots were often misfired, targets missed, mechanisms jammed. Hygiene was limited to an antiseptic wipe and gloves, although I didn’t always wear these as I disliked the smell. As far as I could tell, no-one – either in the company or in my family – seemed to think there was anything wrong with a child performing this particular operation in a grubby shop corner.
There were two tiers of piercing available: the cheaper, thicker sterling silver posts that were deposited into flesh via a white instrument that looked like a stapler; and the more expensive 22ct gold earrings that were installed with a sleeker device. This was the gun that was advised for a helix piercing – the cartilage above the lobe – but people inevitably went for the more economic option. It regularly got stuck half-way through the process, leaving a bloody mess. You shouldn’t pierce over scar tissue, yet it was necessary to rectify lopsided attempts. The earrings arrived in prepackaged sterilised containers, but the guns were seldom cleaned properly; neither were the pens used to set the target (the marks were visible some way from the earring, so imprecise were the machines/machinists).
Twenty-five years on, I would like to think that the procedure has improved, however forums are filled with reports of bad experiences (enormous respect to the online poster who warns: ‘I wouldn’t let Claire’s pierce the film on a ready meal let alone my child’s ears’) – and that similar guns are still in use.
In addition to ear-piercing, Claire’s Accessories was also a mecca for the nascent shoplifter. Its square plastic-backed earrings fitted neatly up a small hoodie, wreaking havoc on stock takes. When I wasn’t botching piercings, I stared up into mirrored coving trying to ignore my classmates stuffing glitter body paint and shag bracelets into their sleeves. Today’s teenagers prefer a different type of tat – good on them.
I was 18 when my Claire’s career reached a tear-stained end. I had managed to avoid spoiling any babies’ ears for several years, until the inevitable happened. Mercifully, the mother opted for the more expensive option, and the process was relatively swift. But I despised myself for it and promptly moved on to Debenhams, that other illustrious chain that has gone to the high street in the sky. Passing still-empty branches – perhaps if bubble tea, vape and phone shops collaborated they might be able to afford the rent – I feel nostalgic about my years on the shop floor. The removal of the purple Claire’s signs, on the other hand, would be a blessed relief. Let’s hope the administrators agree.
Comments