This seedy tattoo parlor is where I returned one fine day when I was bored and thinking about tattoos - I know, I'm a glutton for punishment. I walked in and looked at the yellowed flash on the walls, and only saw the typical Popeye the Sailor Man type tattoos, mixed with tribal and biker tattoos. Until I spied a pretty little mermaid with flowing brunette hair and a fluid tail. 'Hmm...,' I thought. She needed some adjusting (her tail was originally freakishly long and wrapped around an ugly piece of coral, and she had bright red nipples - WTF?), but this tattoo was the first tattoo I saw that really stood out. I asked about the pricing and stood there and thought about it, then decided to bite the bullet and get it done right then and there before I chickened out. Besides, what fun is there in life without impulsive and wreckless decisions?
Now it's 2004, and my life has completely changed. I'm getting divorced (thank god), I have a different job, different house, a new man (who has a couple of very cool and VERY sexy tattoos, I might add) and I still have my pretty little mermaid tattoo.
My philosophy on tattoos is this (you knew this was coming): I think tattoos should represent the person who has them, symbolically or aesthetically, in some way. They are, after all, a permanent decoration on your skin. I don't get the 'random tattoo' thing, like at tattoo conventions where people just pick something and have it done, for no particular reason. What if you were in a weird mood, and end up hating it the next day? Having a tattoo removed is a much more painful, laborious, and expensive process than getting one, by far. My man has a tattoo of a cross-like dagger with a sun on the cross piece of the hilt. It doesn't mean anything in particular, but it is a very intricate, well done tattoo and suits him perfectly - and looks sexy as hell on his muscular arm. My tattoo represents one of my daughters, and I plan on getting another mermaid to represent my other daughter very soon. I will never regret my tattoos, because I will always love my daughters.
But, of course, I still want MORE tattoos. A few water lillies to go with the mermaids, and something flowing and pretty on my lower back... I'm finally planning my 'target' tattoo.
8.20.2004
8.19.2004
Not-so-taboo Tattoos (alternate title: Why I Think Tattoos Are So Freakin' COOL!)
I, like most other nice, Southern, middle class, American girls who is part of what they call Generation X, was brought up to think that only bikers, macho military guys, and prisoners had tattoos and that no nice, self-respecting girl would have one.
Well, I find myself totally obsessed with tattoos.
I think it all started (insert dream sequence and harp music here) when a high school friend (purely platonic, mind you), got a big tattoo of a wolf that looked like it was ripping thru his arm, blood and all, right after we graduated from high school in 1990. For some strange reason, that tattoo gave me a secret little carnal thrill. I loved looking at that tattoo. The tattoo itself was a very well done tattoo, and all nice girls like rebellious boys, but I think it was the PERMANENCE that impressed me the most. I knew this tattoo would be on his arm FOREVER, and that, to me, was the most thrilling part - a permanent, if semi-barbaric, way to express yourself on your own skin!
Fast forward 3 years, to 1993. I have just returned from a 6 month stint of drunken debauchery in Tokyo, where I saw several models that were my age or younger, that had 'target' tattoos - the typical sun-on-fire tattoos on the small of their backs. That was the first time that I saw a tattoo on a girl in that area, and I thought it looked very hip and sexy. Once I got back to the States, I promptly made an appointment to get a tattoo of a yin and yang symbol on fire on the small of my back (okay, I admit, it wasn't very original) - until I walked into the tattoo parlor and overheard the tattooists talking about a wussy Marine who had cried like a baby when he got his tattoo. "Oh, hell no!" I thought, as I rapidly exited stage left.
Fast forward 9 years, to 2002. I have metamorphasized from a carefree, if penniless, bikini-clad Florida teenager to a yuppified wife, mother of 2 beautiful little girls, military veteran, and professional writer (of the technical species). The thought of a tattoo hasn't even flitted across my mind for more than a few fleeting seconds over the past 9 years.
Well, that's not EXACTLY true - I HAVE been in a tattoo parlor, replete with seedy facade, 70's era wood panelling, and yellowed flash on the walls, to get my belly button pierced. I know, I know, SAFE tattoos and peircings are all about hygiene, and she DID use an autoclave to sterilize the tools she used to pierce my skin, so all was not lost.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Well, I find myself totally obsessed with tattoos.
I think it all started (insert dream sequence and harp music here) when a high school friend (purely platonic, mind you), got a big tattoo of a wolf that looked like it was ripping thru his arm, blood and all, right after we graduated from high school in 1990. For some strange reason, that tattoo gave me a secret little carnal thrill. I loved looking at that tattoo. The tattoo itself was a very well done tattoo, and all nice girls like rebellious boys, but I think it was the PERMANENCE that impressed me the most. I knew this tattoo would be on his arm FOREVER, and that, to me, was the most thrilling part - a permanent, if semi-barbaric, way to express yourself on your own skin!
Fast forward 3 years, to 1993. I have just returned from a 6 month stint of drunken debauchery in Tokyo, where I saw several models that were my age or younger, that had 'target' tattoos - the typical sun-on-fire tattoos on the small of their backs. That was the first time that I saw a tattoo on a girl in that area, and I thought it looked very hip and sexy. Once I got back to the States, I promptly made an appointment to get a tattoo of a yin and yang symbol on fire on the small of my back (okay, I admit, it wasn't very original) - until I walked into the tattoo parlor and overheard the tattooists talking about a wussy Marine who had cried like a baby when he got his tattoo. "Oh, hell no!" I thought, as I rapidly exited stage left.
Fast forward 9 years, to 2002. I have metamorphasized from a carefree, if penniless, bikini-clad Florida teenager to a yuppified wife, mother of 2 beautiful little girls, military veteran, and professional writer (of the technical species). The thought of a tattoo hasn't even flitted across my mind for more than a few fleeting seconds over the past 9 years.
Well, that's not EXACTLY true - I HAVE been in a tattoo parlor, replete with seedy facade, 70's era wood panelling, and yellowed flash on the walls, to get my belly button pierced. I know, I know, SAFE tattoos and peircings are all about hygiene, and she DID use an autoclave to sterilize the tools she used to pierce my skin, so all was not lost.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Woo hoo!!
I finally have a place to publish all my innermost, private thoughts to the public! It's like brain porn! hahaha
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