I am not a fan, I wouldn’t want a tat, and I reserve the right to laugh at stupid tats or to not associate with someone because of their body art. Which is probably fine with those who like such self-expression - I expect they wouldn’t want to associate with me. Win-win.
My youngest sister has a lot of body art, but I don’t think any is visible when she’s in normal work clothes, and only a few can be seen when she wears a bathing suit. I know why she chose the tats she had, but I still think she’s out of her tree. Whatever. I didn’t have to pay for them, she’s an adult, and life goes on.
I think overall, I react to them as I do to certain piercings, hair styles, and clothing choices. I may find it silly or bizarre or disturbing, I may think you’re nuts because of that, but when all is said and done, it’s nothing more than a blip on my personal radar and I’m not going to lose sleep over it. And I’m not going to admire your inked tributes, no matter how meaningful to you. Anyway, you don’t care about my opinion, so there it is…
And my dislike of needles has nothing much to do with this.
I ran into an ex-girlfriend once and she had a tattoo of a crown and the word King written in script on the left side of her stomach. When I asked her what it meant she replied that it was a “literary reference”. When I asked what it was referencing, she wouldn’t tell me.
Much like Rhubarb, I think the real point behind it was a drunken night in a tattoo parlor.
Somewhere out there on the web, there is a picture of a young woman’s tramp stamp of an unusual nature.
It is a bible verse ( don’t know which one, sorry. I want to say something from Leviticus…the Love is Patience . Love is kind…one. I think.) done in beautiful script. It is an exceptional piece of work, really.
It takes up a large section of her lower back.
And there is a punctuation error.
It amuses me to no end.
Come back when you are approaching 50 and read this. I guarantee it will read differently.
You may believe the same things - you may not regret the tats - but this will read a lot differently. For one thing, you are unlikely to think that being 80 automatically makes you body look “silly” - it just makes it look 80. At least, I really hope so, or your self esteem will be shattered with wrinkles and grey hair long before you are 80.
I don’t get the hate for “tramp stamps”. I don’t have any tattoos, or particularly want any, but if I did, this seems like a pretty ideal location. It’s fairly discreet, and one of the very few areas on the female body unlikely to be marred by sag, wrinkles, fat, or stretch marks.
This interpretation assumes a single motivation for getting inked. I didn’t get my tattoo for aesthetic reasons. I didn’t get it to look young or hip or to follow a trend. As a long-time wrinkle enthusiast, I can’t wait 'til I’m old and wrinkly, and don’t really care if my tattoo gets old and wrinkly either. My tattoo says ‘‘impermanent’’-- my life, my self, all of it is subject to change, and that very notion is profoundly helpful to my ability to cope such that it warranted a permanent reminder. No matter what happens, whether I’m 25 or 75, my tattoo is still accurate and still serving its function.
Bingo. I got a large Aum in devanagari script on my right shoulder last September, at the age of 44. It’s not for aesthetics, but to mark my trip to Bali as a beginning of a new chapter in my life.
I’m already bald, I’m starting to wrinkle and I have love handles. Maybe this marks the beginning of decrepitude; time will tell.
I think tattoos are great, the more vulgar, misspelled, tasteless the better. I want people to self-identify themselves as aesthetically impaired, I want women to advertise right on the visible skin “You really don’t want to sleep with me, trust me, try someone else, thanks,” I want guys to LMK on meeting them, “I’m a lunkhead, basically, no one you want to know or trust or rely on for good judgment.” It’s basically how I feel about grammar–meaningless in itself, but someone who can’t be arsed to pay the slightest attention to fairly simple norms of social behavior isn’t someone who I’m likely to take very seriously in the long run, so I’m glad when people display their lack of interest immediately.
Of course, I’m always willing to make exceptions–my first gf had two tiny tats, both gotten when she was a drunken teenager, both of which she covered up religiously and both of which she eventually had removed (long after we broke up), and I thought she was a wonderful person*. But in the main, to me, tats just mean “I have no impulse control, I think my aethetics right now are what thay are going to remain forever, and I can’t foresee a day when bearing this evidence of my emotional immaturity will be something I may regret.” YMMV of course.
*Oddly, one of my favorite memories of her concerns a t-shirt she was wearing when we first met, of a Chinese ideogram, which I thought alluring, mysterious, lovely, and extremely fetching. The fact that it was impermanent, of course, was appealing: if it meant “Go, Harvard!” or “Beef with Broccoli,” I knew I’d have a small problem with her message, but no biggie.
Nothing shows your age (and foresight. and judgement.) like participating in a fad that a) self-identifies you as a slut, and b) you cannot later deny participating in!
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My best friend was dating a girl last year whom he had met at a bar. She had the words “Dirty White Girl” tattooed on the small of her back. This is the only ok tramp stamp. Anything less is uncivilized.
Come on. Are you seriously gonna try and tell me that Steve O’s famous “Prison Sex Avoidance” tattoo isn’t a hilariously cool idea?
It’s a huge portrait of himself on his own back, with his autograph reading “yeah dude, i rock! Steve O” underneath! He said after he had it done that if he was ever in prison and some dude wanted to make him his betty, he’d back off when he realized he had to look at Steve’s ugly mug even when he was behind Steve. LMFAO every time I see it!
To me, “lower back tattoo” is not synonymous with “tramp stamp.”
Or to put it another way, tramp stamps are a subset of lower back tattoos.
I don’t even necessarily dislike them. I tend to dislike any tat that is a big cliche, but some tattoos that probably would count as “tramp stamps” are pretty nice anyway.
I’m interpreting no motivation or making no judgment on getting inked at all…I’m making a judgment on saying “I’m going to look silly at 80 anyway, I might as well have a tattoo.”
I really hope neither of you thinks you look silly at 80. I hope you both live that long and perceive yourselves as beautiful.
That is deep. When I was about 16, my boyfriend (now husband) handed me a book called the Metu Neter and also the Egyptian Book of the Dead (or the book of Coming forth By Day,or the book of Becoming Awake).
I thought my mind would expand so far open, my brain would roll out onto the floor, which it probably did a lil’ bit.
As soon as I turned 18, I went and got two tatoos. An Ankh and a Khepra beetle. Since that time, I have moved away from studying the books he gave me, and I have gotten another tattoo which reflects things close to my heart now.
But even though I don’t think the way that I did when I got those tats, I most certainly honor the Nzinga of that time. It was the time that I became awake. It was a time when I let go of a lot of silly fears and superstitions that had gripped me. I don’t regret those tattoos at all.
All this talk about “how will it look when you are 80? How immature you must be to do things that show poor judgement…” makes me feel old and claustrophobic, like my Grandma’s ol’ dusty fruit cellar. Who cares how it will look when I’m 80? I hope I’m going to be the kind of 80 year old that will laugh with my children and grand children at the way the beetle on my arm now looks like a raisin.
My father has a tattoo on his upper arm, it reads “Love to Mother”. Except the “L” is an upside down “T”, because the tattoo artist effed up. He got the tattoo in the late 1940’s, and to say it hasn’t aged well is an understatement. One of the few excellent pieces of advice he ever gave me: “Don’t get a tattoo.”
