Every time I go on holidays I tell myself that, this time, I will get a tatt. But when push comes to shove I either don’t have the balls to go ahead with it, or I’m too afraid of my mother’s reaction when I next see her. Probably a combination of both.
My other challenge is to answer the age-old questions of ‘What?’ and ‘Where?’. I can’t even find a shirt that I like in a week’s time, let alone a motif that will mean something and not make me look tragic when I retire in 2048. And don’t get me started on the location of said tattoo – will one on the arm make me look like a Cronulla local; the chest too much like a bra boy? It’s all too hard.
Anyway, I think I’ve turned cold on the idea after reading Fecal Face‘s article on DIY-tattoos while eating today’s lunch. I’ve never really thought of the actual process of tattooing, the act itself, but after doing just that, I’m not so sure. Fundamentally, DIY tatts are no different from what you get in a professional tatt house, but for some reason the idea of attaching a home-sterilised needle to the end of a pencil, dipping it into ink, and sticking hundreds of tiny holes into the back of my arm seems a little too grotesque.
So maybe it’s not my lack of balls, my disapproving mother, or my issues about what and where. Maybe I’m just not a tatt kind of guy after all.