I am very curious about tattoos.
I find myself staring at people with tattoos, not out of disdain or judgment. Truly, I’m usually just interested to know more about the tattoo, but I’m a little intimidated ask.
Apart from my extensive education in curse word usage, my upbringing was pretty vanilla. My parents were rule followers, business people, maybe even a little boring. They didn’t have tattoos and their friends didn’t either. My only knowledge of tattoos growing up was from the guys who ran the pirate ship each summer at the fair and from movies where only the bad guys had tattoos, the motorcycle gang members and the drug dealers and the mullet-sporting hoodlums. Ridiculous, huh?
That all changed when I was in college and it became fashionable to get a tattoo. My sorority sisters all seemed to jump on the bandwagon and get tattoos of our greek letters on their ankles or butterflies on their lower backs, the lovely “tramp stamp” variety. The craziest thing I ever did was get my belly button pierced, knowing it wasn’t permanent (for sure, those days are loooong gone). Tattoos are now becoming the norm, even straight-laced suit wearing types have tattoos.
My husband and I recently noticed that he and I with our pristine, uninked skin, are in the minority. That’s okay by me, even though I think tattoos are cool, I know that I do not want a tattoo. I can’t imagine anything I’d want tattooed on my body for eternity.
Which is why I find some tattoos to be so fascinating. From butterflies to portraits of cats and Chinese symbols to hand-drawn works of art, there aren’t any statements I want to make with my body that requires a needle and ink. So many people seem to not just have one, small, hidden tattoo, but many, bold and noticeable tattoos. Most of my friends that have more than one tattoo are always talking about the next tattoo they’re going to get.
So I wonder. Why do you have tattoos? Was it some crazy thing you did on Spring Break in South Padre back in ’96 or is this something more?
Photo source: Hanumann