April is when most of the year's earlier piercings come back for downsizing. We block out three weeks at Webster — three through twenty-fifth — to keep that work moving. If your post is catching on a sweater, on earphones, on a hair tie, that is your sign. Walk in, fifteen minutes, gold post on a sized stem. Done.
Victoria is taking the second and third Sunday mornings for mother–daughter visits. We're holding the chair quiet for those two hours each Sunday — call ahead so we know whose names to put on the list. Both ID's, a real meal before, and we'll take the rest from there.
The schedule, in detail.
From the room, quietly.
The bench by the window at Galveston is now permanent. The plant beside it is fake — I know. It survives the salt. The honesty bowl of starter posts behind the counter is real, and we have just stocked it.
We are not on social media this month in any meaningful way. Photographs of fresh work go in the lookbook, and the lookbook gets updated by hand — same week the piercing happens. Bring people to it. The reviews live where they live; we read them.