Family · Never too late

At 64, I got my ears pierced at the chemist. My granddaughter made me do it.

Lily turned ten last month. For about a year, all she'd wanted for her birthday was pierced ears. And for about a year, she'd been too scared to actually go through with it.

A few weeks before her birthday we were having tea at my place, and she announced her terms.

"I'll only do it if you do it too, Nanna."

Her mum Kirsten laughed and said, "Good luck with that, Lil."

And before I'd really thought about it, I heard myself say, "Alright. Deal."

Why my ears had been bare for thirty years

I had my ears pierced as a teenager, in 1975, at a jeweller in the city. I wore earrings for years. Then, in 1996, two days before a job interview, a pair of cheap market earrings turned my earlobes green and itchy.

I took them out, put them in a little box in my bedside drawer, and never put another pair in. I was raising two children mostly on my own, I was busy, and earrings just didn't seem important. Over time, the holes closed over.

So when I said "deal", I wasn't just agreeing to keep Lily company. I was agreeing to start again.

Two stools at the chemist

We went on a Saturday morning to the chemist at our local shopping centre. The young woman behind the counter, Bec, looked at the two of us, Lily in her school jumper and me in my grey cardigan, and asked which one of us was getting it done.

"Both of us," said Lily. "Nanna's going first."

Lily held my hand the whole time. Bec marked two little dots on my earlobes, counted to three, and it was over before I'd finished being nervous. Lily looked at me, decided I'd survived, and climbed straight up onto her stool.

She didn't cry once. I may have, a little, in the car.

Six weeks of patience

With new piercings, you leave the starter studs in for about six weeks before you change them. So twice a day I cleaned them with saline, just like Bec told me, and waited.

Somewhere around week four, I realised I had a problem. Once the six weeks were up, I'd need earrings. And the only earrings I owned were in that little box of green ones.

I was not doing that to my ears again.

What my sister told me

My sister Carol is the one in our family who always knows where to find things. When I told her my problem, she sent me a link to a small Australian jewellery shop called Jenny & Sue.

Two women who've run it together for 34 years and are now retiring. Rather than pack the last of their stock into boxes, they're giving it away. The pieces themselves are free. You pay for the shipping.

My first thought, I'll admit, was that it sounded too good to be true. So before I ordered anything, I did my homework.

What I checked first

• They have a rating of 4.8 out of 5 from more than 2,700 reviews, with lots of photos from women around my age.
• There's no subscription. It's a one-off order, and you see the full total, shipping included, before you pay anything.
• Every order is sent with a tracking number, and there's a page on their site where you can follow your parcel.
• There's a contact email on every page if you have a question.
• Every piece comes with a Lifetime Colour Warranty. After my green ears in 1996, that was the one that mattered most to me.

That was enough for me. The worst that could happen was losing a bit of postage money.

What arrived

I chose three pairs from their Tidewater Drops. Sparkly drops for good occasions. A soft white opal pair for every day. And a deep blue pair that reminded me of the bay on a windy afternoon.

The parcel arrived a few days later. Tissue paper, everything in good shape, and a handwritten card: Thank you for 34 years. Love, Jenny & Sue.

On the morning of day forty-two, I took out the starter studs and put the blue ones in. I took a slightly ridiculous selfie in the kitchen and sent it to Lily.

They're light, they're comfortable, and several weeks later they look exactly the same as the day they arrived. No green.

Lily's party

I wore the blue pair to Lily's tenth birthday party in her backyard. She spotted them before I'd even put the present down, and spent most of the afternoon telling her friends, "My Nanna got her ears pierced with me."

A few more, for the women I love

Because the pieces are free, I went back and ordered a few more pairs. Silver spirals for Carol, as a thank you for the link. Blue stone drops with a little pearl for my daughter Emma.

And a pair of small heart earrings that I've put away in a box for Lily, with a note for when she turns eighteen.

It wasn't too late

I'd decided, somewhere along the way, that earrings were something I'd grown out of. That it was a bit late to start again.

It took a ten-year-old holding my hand on a stool at the chemist to show me otherwise.

If there's something you stopped doing years ago because life got busy, or because it went wrong once, maybe it isn't too late either. It certainly wasn't for my ears.

Sharon