- Sep 24, 2013
I can't see a tattoo without hearing an indulged toddler whining, "Look at me, mummy; look at meeeee!"
I see women with their kids' names and dates of birth tattooed on their anatomy. Let's sum up that thought process:
"You mean to say that an eight-pound human being tore itself out of my body in a tsunami of blood, screams and faeces? Shit, I have to start writing this stuff down... I know: I'll pay a gum-snapping teenaged art school dropout £100 to misspell an aide memoire somewhere on my rind!"
Or maybe they're just doing something because they want to, and couldn't give a toss what other people think of it? When you see a shapely woman with alluring makeup and a smart outfit, do you assume that they've only gone to that effort because they're desperate for a shag?
I know there are plenty of dolts who are happy to have illiterate slogans and horrific scrawls splattered over their skin for attention, but to throw everyone with a tattoo into that category is incredibly narrow-minded. I know several people who have had some frankly jaw-droppingly good artwork done, and I'm confident that other peoples' opinions were pretty low on their list of considerations.