It was on the grade school playground that I first discovered tattoos. My friend Steve was briefly fascinated with temporary tattoos. It was just a passing fancy for Steve, but something about it moved me. It was not temporary tattoos that moved me, though. I wanted real ones.
At A Glance Author anonymous Contact [email protected] When N/A Over the years, I got a couple well-hidden tattoos, and nobody ever knew about them except my lover. Social and career considerations kept large, visible tattoos off my body. Now, I own my own company, and I have long been married to an understanding woman. This is my life, and I'm not missing any part of it.
So I lined up a top artist and got a full back tattoo. Some of my acquaintances seem to think this was a pretty wild move, but really the only thing different about me now is that they can see in my skin the tattooing I wanted since I was a boy. I merely took action to realize my goal. More people ought to do that.
I don't particularly care to make a statement or an impression. I just did this for myself. Even so, I must admit that there is something cool about displaying tattoos. Just like wearing a loud shirt, it's fun to stand out. Especially after 30 years.
I work in electronics and live in an upscale area. Contrary to what you might think, in this conservative environment, only women have visible tattoos. It's the soccer moms, secretaries, female engineers and teachers who have them. I guess that a female with one or two small tattoos is no longer a bad girl, but the stereotype of the tattooed ruffian lives on. The only tattooed men I have seen in a business setting were a few ex-military guys at defense contractors and one dude with full sleeves at a trade show.
What was good about waiting so long? For years I observed designs, quality and placements. I'm really glad I don't have any of the substandard tattoos I considered when I was younger. Now I know exactly what I want, and I have the money to get the best without compromise. I've proven my ability to make decisions, so I am relatively immune to criticism or regrets. I'm not going to suddenly turn into a fuck-up now that I'm heavily tattooed. I won't regret it when I'm 40, because I'll never be 40 again. Tattoos can't hurt me anymore.
I was surprised to learn that there are disadvantages to waiting. Keeping such a silly thing secret for so long took on a life of its own. After years of hiding my tattoos, I can only manage an awkward response to even the most positive compliments. Had I been visibly tattooed earlier in life, I would have developed friendships with more people who appreciate tattooing. None of my friends disowned me, but only one friend liked it.
Part of my decision to get this backpiece was that I will no longer hide my tattoos. I showed my back to my friends and family just so I no longer need to worry about being discovered. It was extremely liberating. I'm straight, but the experience seems not unlike being secretly gay and then coming out after years in the closet.
Even though I have to travel and pay thousands of dollars, compared to other things I might buy, high quality tattoos are amazingly accessible and offer excellent value. I got a huge tattoo from a top artist for less than a good art gallery charges for the work of a relatively unknown painter. The wait was nothing compared to the time you might queue up for a competent architect. Plus, tattoos last a lifetime, and require no maintenance (except you always want more). Compared to the McMansions, cars, and child support that my contemporaries spend money on, tattoos are almost free.
Still, it's easy to see why tattoos are cheaper and more accessible than conventional art. There are very few people with both the desire and resources to get big, expensive tattoos. Each of these rare customers can buy no more than a single bodysuit. Tattoos cannot be traded, so they have no investment value. Tattoos are pure consumption, like paying extra for a better car. I wonder if all those people driving expensive cars know what they're missing. For the extra money they paid for the car, they could have covered their entire body with the most expensive tattoos in the world, and maybe even gotten a backpiece for the wife!
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Recently I met my old friend Steve for a drink. It was great to see him after all these years. I told him about how his interest in temporary tattoos had somehow clicked with me.
"Oh no...", he uttered, realizing that his long-forgotten boyhood fascination was still alive in my skin.