For many of us, hickeys were a teenage rite of passage.
Fuelled by hormones and desire, a love bite used to be something to boast about at school.
Dark purple, misshapen, and impossible to ignore, some were worn like a badge of honour, while others were concealed with a large dollop of Maybelline Matte Mousse.
But somewhere along the way, I’ve noticed a distinct lack of love-bites around.
It was only when a friend of mine commented that she’d seen someone with a hickey on the bus — and described it as ‘chic’ — ...


English (US)