Decorative hickeys the latest in mutilation

In our consumer culture, it has become increasingly difficult to display one’s individuality through purchases. You can’t be considered “unique” when everyone on your block is wearing baggy pants and a Rancid t-shirt. Even tattoos and piercings have become passé.

But just when it seemed that we'd be forced to think on our own, along comes a new way of marking our bodies and expressing individuality-- decorative hickeys. Although they started as the exclusive symbol and domain of teenage angst and suburban rebellion, it now seems that everybody is getting interested in the newest way of declaring oneself unique. In fact, it has proved to be so safe and attractive that celebrities such as Robert DeNiro, John Tesh, and Cher have recently acquired them. This “purple reign” has also been embraced by the music community, with Dave Grohl and Tori Amos sporting these new badges of anarchy. Recently the rap group Funky See, Funky Do released a song with the lyrics:

“A kiss is fine but it don’t always last,

That’s why I got a hickey of your name on my ass.

That may seem strange and a little bit fruity

But every time I say your name I think of booty.”

Hickeys are hot and people are talking about them. They're starting to appear on pogs, collector cards and lunch boxes. Even Douglas Coupland, arbiter of cool and the scribe for this troubled generation, has released a new short story called Generation Necks. Here’s an excerpt:

Carl had recently vowed to stop being a slave to technology and only last week had smashed a fax machine. He had also taken to wearing a t-shirt with the caption, “Sorry, I don’t do Windows.” He hoped to one day move to Palm Springs and avoid the inevitable-- becoming an adult and actually doing something with his life. Rachel was less driven by ideology. “Carl, should I grow dreadlocks, go to Europe, get another decorative hickey, write a book of self-indulgent short stories or get a job with Microsoft?” Carl could only stare at her body, a living monument to trends past and present.

But as the hickey tsunami takes over, and this new breakthrough trend becomes neatly packaged and made palatable for the middle class, I decided to investigate the phenomenon that is receiving its 15 minutes of fame. Where did it all begin? Is it true rebellion or another clever attempt by the culture mavens to make a quick buck?

I first sought enlightenment on the topic by contacting longtime hickey chronicler Oliver Kralhein. The faded exterior and chipping brown paint of his Saltspring Island home betrayed the age of both the owner and the house. Kralhein has been studying hickeys since 1965 and has spent the past two decades publishing a zine on the topic. He seemed excited to meet someone interested in his lifelong obsession, and was eager to chat.

“Nobody realizes how prolific and common hickeys are, because they have traditionally been a very private indulgence,” said Kralhein. However, he says hickeys do have a long history. “My research suggests that hickeys have been around since the dawn of time. Decorative hickeys have been traced back to the ancient Egyptians. A papyrus reed tells the story of a man who, upon emerging from the river, spotted a leech on his forearm. Upon removing it, he discovered a pattern of a four-sided pyramid, the village’s sacred sign. He then became king of the village with a harem of 300. Soon after this, the popularity of decorative hickeys increased astronomically.”

As one might imagine, not everyone is as enthusiastic about what some are calling the scariest purple fad since Barney. One such individual is June Thodicist, a retired schoolteacher and trend analyst who is vehemently opposed to the newest way to adorn one’s body. I spoke with her in her ninth-floor office on Burrard Street.

“Your body is a valuable item, and you only get one of them. These kids fail to realize that. If you’re going to mutilate your body, you should pay a damage deposit,” she said.

I asked her whether she has any medical or scientific evidence to back her claims. She flustered somewhat before replying, “We've got 15 year-old boys who've never even kissed a girl getting these things, and the so-called ‘hickey artists’ don't care. They're just capitalizing on another youth culture fad and getting rich. They're bloodsuckers in the truest sense of the word. You can’t remove or discard tattoos and hickeys like you can bellbottoms and platforms.”

While traditional hickeys probably were conceived in the back seat of mom’s station wagon, decorative hickeys can have more sinister applications. Local police and law enforcement agencies have begun to take notice of hickeys; it seems that hickeys are being used to identify members of various Vancouver street gangs. Officer Bruce Larson said, “We started seeing more and more gang members with them. We soon realized that they were using hickeys as an expensive way of showing gang loyalties.”

The complexity of the issue of decorative hickeys was becoming increasingly apparent. I decided to discuss developments with a high school principal, Ross Wallinger, who recently banned decorative hickeys at his school.

“We had students competing with one another like some kind of bizarre arms race, each trying to be cooler than his neighbor,” Wallinger said. “It was getting out of hand.”

The logistics behind the new code are overwhelming to say the least. Rules governing visible hickeys versus concealed hickeys generate a grey area that is difficult to police.

“No, we can’t strip search students,” said Wallinger. “By implementing the ban, I’m just trying to make it harder for students to get them.”

I asked Wallinger whether these new rules might simply be encouraging students to go underground with their hickeys. I also asked how he distinguishes decorative hickeys from natural hickeys, resulting from romantic liaisons. “I’ve considered these problems, and there are no easy answers,” he said. His face grew reflective: “I don’t want to spend my days policing these kids, but some of them are engaged in some very destructive behavior. Look, I don't want to recreate the more or less idyllic 1950s. All I ask for is some common sense. Can’t we all just get along?”

For a different perspective, I spoke with Captain Muck in his hickey emporium in downtown Vancouver. First and foremost I asked whether he does what he’s in this for love or for money?

“For love of course!” he laughed heartily.

Captain Muck put me at ease immediately, and my curiosity soon got the better of me. After spending an hour staring at trade photos and hickey magazines, and watching clients enter his private chambers and then leave with smiles on their faces, I finally summoned the nerve to ask him where most people chose to get their love bites placed.

“Well, lots of places, just like tattoos.”

“Will you put a hickey anywhere?” I asked.

“Anywhere?” He gets a gleam in his eye. “Well, almost anywhere.”

I asked him about the apparent physiological effects of hickeys, and about the rumor that getting one gives you a serious endorphin and adrenaline rush.

“Oh, absolutely,” he answers quickly. “As well, your libido increases, and you have heightened sexual awareness.”

“But don’t hickeys take blood away from more necessary areas of the body?” I asked sheepishly.

He grinned, and in a patronizing tone said, “One day you’ll understand.”

Captain Muck explained one of the strategies he will implement to ensure that his business continues to grow: “I’m going to set up a booth on the next Lollapalooza tour to better reach out to North America’s youth.” He then clicked his mouse a few times and called up a projected earnings file for the upcoming tour.

I managed to talk to some of Muck’s customers as well. Kim Purtell put it into perspective when she said, “I just want tangible evidence to show to my children that at one point in my life, I was cool. Besides, it’s much cheaper than piercings and tattoos, and let's face it--times are tough right now and I can only allot so much of my parent's money to rebellion each week.”

Another customer, Zak Peterson, was merely adding hickeys to his long line of experiments on his body. “I'll try anything, no matter how pointless, as long as I'm one of the first,” he proclaimed.

After much prodding, I convinced Peterson to take me to meet his parents. His father met my outstretched hand with a bear-like grip. We sat down, and he began to chuckle when I asked him what he thinks of Zak’s experiments. “When I was a boy, we tried our damnedest to hide our hickeys from our parents. Now it’s the latest fad. I can’t stop the boy, but I think he’s wasting his time. At least they’re cheap."

When I told him how much they actually cost, however, his calm and accepting demeanor quickly changed.

“Good God! $80? I’ll go into business myself. I’ll kiss anybody’s ass for $80.”

You’ll have to decide for yourself whether or not this new trend is for you.

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