Either I’m just naturally getting old and crabby or the world is morphing into what big fairly pointless tattoo? You can’t go anywhere without seeing some young man or woman, boy or girl prancing around town covered in tattoo’s.
It’s all so ironic that some of these kids believe they’re being so individual and painstakingly cool yet how can anything that every other young dude on the block has be cool?
This whole tattoo epidemic is just totally out of control. I’d like to have a long grandma style chat with these One Direction kids because although they’re happily singing squeaky clean, packaged pop music, they’re obviously desperate to even the boy band score getting the sorts of tattoo’s that are about as well designed and thought through as one of something I’d do with biro on a corner of paper to pass the time while listening to hold music.
And if you’re sitting there sporting a skin design of some sort and think that I’ve spent too much time loitering around Burnside totally out of touch with the real world, you’d be advised to check in with my father who believes I’ll only ever date the sort of types that can prove that they have one. But the difference being, the reason and the thought behind getting one. Not getting one because it’s supposedly cool.
The worrying thing with this extreme form of fashion is that it is just that, fashion. How many young people are just looking at their bodies and thinking, ‘how do I fill up the blank space?’ What happened to the true sense of being cool, having the sort of self identity that meant you needed to spell it out with a permanent stamp?
I absolutely love shows like LA Ink and despite her fairly atrocious choice in blokes, Kat Von Dee the Queen of La body art, I admire a great tattoo and a tattoo artist. It’s the twits that walk into the studio on a Saturday night and go ‘hey what sort of cool piece can you do to fill up this patch on my arm?’ that makes me shudder.
I don’t care how these fashion victims might try and defend their motif of choice, the simple fact is, what floats your boat at 15 or even 25 is not going to be the same years down the track. What part of you’ll be looking at this at 40, 50 or when you’re known as Grandma are they not getting?
These kids are using their bodies like my mates at their age used to look at their school folders or bedroom walls.
I’m still gobsmacked at a conversation I had last year with a sweet young kid, who will probably hate me for sharing this, as he excitedly told me he was off to Melbourne to get more ink.
‘Oh?’ I said, ‘what are you going to get?’ ‘Well I’m going to get on one knee a drawing of a cup and saucer. And on the other, the words Two Sugars Please!’ When I enquired as to the symbolic nature of the concept, he said ‘Because I like two sugars in my tea.’
Sure, maybe he’d had some sort of premonition at some point that one day he was going to become mute, but c’mon, I love a bit of Macca’s as much as the next person, but am I going to get ‘a cheese burger, diet coke and a fillet-o-fish etched into my neck? No, I’m happy to continue to verbally place the order.
The distinctly uncool facts of getting a tattoo that you put as much thought into a choosing your knickers means one day you will be forced to either look at it each day and be reminded of what a flipping twit you once were, OR you can get that piece of skin cut out with a knife, OR have it burnt off over a period of time. What sort of effect is that going to have on your swagger down the track?