Getting tattoos

I don’t just get them

I warned yesterday that I would post a random article of my thoughts that is not much about the Reality of Illness Who’s Who directory. Instead it is just a bit of tongue-in-cheek frivolity.

I don’t get it.

Sorry but I just don’t get tattoos, both literally and as an idea or trend.

I have never had one or had the slightest urge to get one so maybe my thoughts here will seem ridiculous to those who have chosen to indulge in this sort of body graffiti. So I apologise to them for my stupendous ignorance.

But this is what troubles or puzzles me.

However much I might like my choice of lounge wallpaper, or my taste in music, or my love of cartoon characters, super heroes, etc., I am not, and have never been, confident that I would not prefer something completely different or better 10 years from now.

But I can always change my wallpaper, or I can pretend I never liked the Bay City Rollers (I never did) or fancied Suzi Quattro (I never did). However if my taste at the current time (or back then) was reflected in a tattoo, I am pretty much stuck with it …for life!?

Yes maybe an enigmatic Betty Boop could be changed to look more like an angry spider or an Iron Maiden logo might be able to be turned into a picture of the sinking Titanic, but artwork so changed is always going to be less than perfect. Unless maybe it is an improvement on the original depiction.

And also if I have some impressive work of ink art say on the calf of my leg, am I destined to wear shorts forever so I can always show it off come rain or shine, frost or heatwave?

Does it give me a feeling of great pride to have a poorly drawn portrait of Lionel Messi on my abdomen or is it merely there just to start a conversation with someone else who might have a different footballer emblazoned discreetly on a buttock?

I have wondered if it a bit like those who conspicuously hang clunky gold chains around their neck to show off their wealth. I assume it can say to people: ‘Look how filthy rich I am to have afforded all this tattoo work’ — not that I have the vaguest clue what a tattoo costs to do because I never been interested enough to enquire.

But unlike gold, I can’t exactly cash in my tattoos or sell them on eBay if some unfortunate rainy day comes along and I urgently need a bit of money.

Or does my tattoo work say that I want to stand out from the crowd and demonstrate my individuality. This must ironically be exactly what all the other people with tattoos thought they were doing in order to stand out. This to me is like all the sheep getting dyed red to stand out from the flock of white ones ...what white ones?

Or does it show off how brave I am for enduring some high level of pain — not that I know how painful it is to get a tattoo or afterwards, but I have seen cream to soothe them and fresh ones always look red and angry.

And what if I get a picture tattooed and then I put on (or lose) weight, does the image get horribly distorted by my change in skin real estate?

How about as a man if hair grows inconveniently to cover it. Is there a shaving or waxing regime I must adopt to keep it displayed to best effect that I need to observe for the rest of my life? Otherwise, surely it would be like trying to admire the Mona Lisa displayed behind a net curtain or behind a bush.

How does anyone even decide what image they simply must have displayed and decide exactly whereabouts on the body it should located?

Maybe there is a discreet sexual pleasure derived from getting someone to discover a concealed rose drawn and intimately hidden or teasing someone into trying to find your coiled python tattoo.

Pondering still, do people wake up one morning and think I really must have a three headed parrot jumping out of a Jack in the box on my right bicep done today? Or does one just go along and choose something really cool from a catalogue of available artwork, or ask if anything is on special offer that day? Can you get any buy one tattoo and get one free offers?

I don’t even know how long they take. I’m guessing an anchor like Popeye’s can’t be more than a few minutes’ work. But some tattoos look like they took longer than Michelangelo took to do the sistine chapel.

And who does the artwork? Do you choose from among the High Street’s five-star-rated artists or the five-star-rated tattoo shops? Or do you always go back to your favourite person who has always done you a good job of whatever you woke up and envisioned?

I do realise whilst I don’t understand tattoos, I might be missing the point of them totally and it might in fact be some secret coded messaging system between people who are ‘in the know’.

In a similar fashion to having pampas grass growing in your front garden (according to urban folklore) which says that you are a swinger. Perhaps if you have a left facing gecko tattooed on your right calf it means you have a predilection to some kind of odd religious belief, sexual act or eating preference.

Certainly I was once told that having a sticking plaster on a certain part of your body indicated to everybody that you were homosexual back in the days when it was rather less overt. After finding this out, I was always worried in case I accidentally injured myself at this particular location and I needed to put a sticking plaster there ...but I was never quite sure where it was.

Likewise I was terrified in case pampas grass seeded itself into my front garden while I was away on a long holiday and I returned home to find a small queue of enthusiastic scantily-clad people waiting at my front door.

And lastly since vaccinations are being widely questioned for bypassing the body’s natural defences to go straight under the skin, is there not the same danger from putting all this ink directly into the body?

Oh, maybe there is some danger but who knows anything for sure these days:

Sorry to be so dumb but I just don’t get it.

And if I have upset any tattoo devotees well you can’t make an omelette with breaking eggs …or was it wind?