My colourist said nothing. I went on, getting that opinion firmly entrenched and of course believing when I had my foot in mouth that all about agreed with my no holds barred thoughts! I relayed tales all the stupid tattoos friends and family had got and the regret they'd had. Mind you, I do think that large angel wings and skeleton/muscle designs on the back are kind of cool. "Yeah, I have angel wings with a heart in the middle on my back" offered my colourist. Jesus wept! This chick had at least 5 tattoos tucked under her regulation black salon cardi, she's just 22 and she's being rather kind with my rather unrestrained outburst of dislike for tattoos.
Time for an adjustment in direction. What about body modification? The earrings that stretch the ears into big holes? No amount of laser is going to fix that are they? "No, but mine shrink back when I take the rings out, so I don't think I'll need to get them sewn". Shit! She pulls back her hair and there's some small button-like earrings that I gather cover a reasonable sized hole. Both left and right foot firmly in mouth, but it's just an opinion right? Surely there is a code that says you can say what you damned well please at the hairdressers? Or is that just me?
I ponder aloud (well I'm on a roll now... aren't I!) that tattoos are decorative, have often got sentimental links and the current mainstreaming of tattooing will open a burgeoning laser removal industry when Gen-Y finally get wrinkles, a mortgage and an interview with the private school principal on why little Ella and Madison should join their ranks. However, the body modification, ear-stretching, nipple piercing, branding type carry-on (OK, I didn't say 'carry-on) is quite a different head-space with regard to aesthetics. There seems to be a curiosity and almost a challenge as to how far you'll go with body modification, make it more intrinsically motivated act rather than aesthetically driven.
Thankfully, my big feet and satellite foil hair were ushered to the wash basin. End of story but I did feel a little sad for my new 22-year-old friend. At 22 I was full of bravado, empowerment and "I'm beyond the age of consent, I've travelled the world, I pay taxes and I'm a bloody adult I tell you." And now, not quite 20 years on, I look back and thank my lucky stars that I'm not nearly as cool, desperate to please and burdened with my 22-year-old tastes in clothes, men, body modification, tendency to smoke and drink Burbon & Coke (uurrgghhh... dear bogan of 22!).What would I have got tattooed at 22? Probably something lame like a rose on my shoulder or my hip. Luckily, tramp stamps weren't around then. I might have even got a Chinese symbol for "PERSEVERE" or something equally as dramatic and self-pitying.
What would I have tattooed at 40, should I be held at gunpoint, or sadly have a midlife crisis?! Maybe my date of birth on my hip, just in case I was killed in a tsunami, or some darker eyebrows perhaps!!
For some poor lads in Queensland this week, drunken debauchery seems to be the impetus for branding each other's butts and unfortunately for them, they have a permanent reminder of their youth and a poorly judged mistake.
Tattoos .... reminder of who you are at a point of time or a shortsighted mistake?
This is a new blog ... I'm too erratic to get any followers but please feel free to comment (or follow).
If you follow, I might just post more!
