For the Love of Tattoos
When I was growing up, tattoos were unacceptable. My brothers and I viewed them suspiciously on other people, hearing the murmur of disapproval from our parents. I grew up in a little blue collar town in Iowa, where getting a tattoo usually means tramp stamps and poorly drawn lines and getting someone’s name etched into your skin in swirly and unreadable letters. One family friend was covered in tattoos, which amazed me as a kid. His whole body was a coloring book of sorts, and yet if he was wearing a suit you would have no idea.
I don’t remember when I decided that I wanted a tattoo. For a long time, it was one of those far off things in my mind, attached to the version of myself that I wanted to be but wasn’t anywhere close to yet. Adult Hanna.*
*As a side note here, let me tell you a little about Adult Hanna, someone whom I dwell on quite a lot. Adult Hanna is a badass. She has all the tattoos she wants. She rides her skateboard around and no one ever questions her age. She swears and talks about vaginas in casual conversation, and no one tells her TMI. She is smart as hell and her curiosity about sex is seen as intelligent rather than perverted. Adult Hanna is a bold and self-assured designer who goes after what she wants. Adult Hanna is exactly who she is, with no worries over the opinions of others, even her parents.
Although some days I feel a lot like Adult Hanna, most of the time I still feel like she’s just out of reach. I want to talk openly about my life, about being a young adult in 2015, but it’s not that simple. As I write this, I am acutely aware that someone—namely my relatives—might see this and be absolutely horrified to find out that I am no longer a sweet little kid who stays out of trouble. That, and I’m pretty sure that I will continue to be the only one who thinks that the type of plastics they use on vibrators is a normal and interesting topic of discussion. Sorry Adult Hanna.
Fast forward through high school and into college. Suddenly, tattoos started to make more sense to me. I know a lot of people with tattoos and I love nothing more than hearing about why they got them. My good family friend, Emily, has a snowflake on her lower back that she got with her brother when they were in their 20’s. My friend has “pentimenti” written on her side as a reminder that mistakes are part of the process. Other friends have tattoos for lost loved ones and some just have images that they think look really cool (they do, my friends have awesome taste in tattoos).
I have come to realize that tattoos have a lot less to do with the rest of the world and a lot more to do with the person that has them.
My tattoos have nothing to do with the rest of the world. I got them for me. One is of my childhood dog, who meant the world to me. It reminds me of growing up, and who I was when I got it. The same goes for the tattoo on my side. I got it in San Francisco with a friend about a month or so after a bad break up. It made me feel beautiful and strong, which I hadn’t felt in awhile at that point.
Not all tattoos are good. In a lot of ways they are a bit self-important and brusque—trying to say something meaningful and look cool doing it. As a general rule of thumb, I would suggest that people avoid the names of lovers, song lyrics from your favorite pop group, or anything that’s gross. . But in the end, it’s not for me to decide. If you want to get your boyfriend’s name on your wrist, then do it. Just for god’s sake, get it from an artist that knows what they’re doing. After all, you are the one who has to deal with the consequences.
But in the end, if it brings you joy, then who am I to judge?
I understand that the act of letting go is difficult, especially when you’re talking about someone you love and your opinions. I don’t expect my mom and dad to ever look at my tattoos and feel total approval at my life choices. I don’t expect my brothers to “get” my tattoos. All I want is for them to love me regardless.
With all of the strange rumbling in my mind about the intricacies of tattoos and my relationship with my family… I still find myself totally in love with them. I love black tattoos with good line work. I love the delicate hand-poked ones. I love floral pieces with good colors. I love the geometric tattoos and the ones with intricate details. I like the way finger tattoos look like jewelry. I like chest tattoos that make someone’s breast look more beautiful than I can ever imagine being. I love how they can make someone’s arm look stronger or their legs more elegant. I love the tattoos that make someone’s whole body look like a work of art.
Beyond my personal reasons for wanting tattoos, it’s hard not to love them for what they mean to other people. People have been getting tattoos for thousands of years. They are a link to our past, to who we are. People use tattoos to cover scars, to remember loved ones, to mark important moments in their life. They make a lot of people feel beautiful and happy.
I don’t expect to change anyone’s mind. Tattoos aren’t for everyone. But they are for a lot of people. So, if tattoos aren’t for you, don’t be a dick to the people who love them.
Tattoos are just another part of the human experience. You don’t have to get one, but I hope you try to enjoy and understand how amazing and beautiful they can be, with all their meaning and attachments to the person who chose to put it on their body.
Because links make every post better, here are a few videos about tattoos that I love.
And here is a list of some of my favorite tattoo artists.
