I wish someone would tell me what today’s young people see in
tattoos. I’ve been pondering the question since 2002, when I was a dean
at a small private university in St. Louis.
One day, an
exceptionally attractive young woman who couldn’t have been more than 18
or 19 came into my office. She needed my signature on a form permitting
her to take an overload the following semester. (She was obviously a
serious student.) I happened to have a few gargoyle knickknacks on my
desk, and when she spied them, she spoke up: “Oh, you like gargoyles?”
“Ah, yes,” I responded.
“Oh, I love gargoyles. I have a big one tattooed on my back!” she proudly exclaimed.
This
was one of those defining moments in the life of a married middle-aged
dean. The wrong response could have been career ending. “That’s nice,” I
said, quickly signing her form and holding it out at arm’s length,
pointing her toward the door.
Regular readers of these confessions
the Sun labels as a “Community Column” may recall that I began my adult
life as an enlisted Marine, way back in 1965. I knew a lot of Marines
who, soon after getting through boot camp, rushed to get the eagle,
globe, and anchor or a Marine Corps bulldog tattooed on their arms. But I
was never tempted.
I had two uncles who had gotten tattoos while
in the service. The one who had the most tattoos was my Uncle Paulie,
who had served in the Navy before World War II. I still remember how
those tattoos looked by the time I was old enough to notice them —
blurry blue lines that left the images almost unrecognizable. I could
tell that one was supposed to be a topless mermaid. I was never sure
what the other tattoos were supposed to represent.
In the
mid-nineties, when I was a professor in West Virginia, I had occasion to
describe Uncle Paulie’s tattoos to one of my students. He had several
tattoos, all of which were markedly different from any I had seen up to
that time. The lines were sharp, there were four or five colors, and the
representations were clear and unmistakable. I asked him if he wasn’t
afraid that, like my uncle’s, his tattoos would fade, blur, and become
indistinct over time.
“No,” he assured me. “Today’s tattoo inks
are much better than the ones they used to use.” I have no doubt that
that’s true. As a lifelong amateur photographer, however, I know that
all dyes can fade over time, particularly if they are exposed to harsh
sunlight and heat.
But even if today’s tattoo inks are indeed
colorfast, there are two other considerations I would try to impress
upon any young person yearning to be “inked.”
First, aside from
the fact that I’ve never much cared for needles, what always held me in
check was the realization that novelty wears off. No matter how much a
tattoo might appeal to me at the time, I realized that I would
eventually get tired of it. And all the ways of removing a tattoo are
painful, expensive, and uncertain. One enlisted Marine I knew had talked
a Navy corpsman into removing the tattooed name of an ex-girlfriend
from his shoulder with a scalpel — one thin slice at a time. How that
turned out, I don’t know. I was transferred out of that company long
before the final cut.
Second, it’s a fact of life that as we age
most of us gain weight and lose muscle mass or at least see a
significant redistribution of weight across our frames. We’re also
likely to wrinkle and sag. The aging process is bound to distort even
the best of tattoos over time. The unicorn that looked cute on the
midriff of an 18-year-old girl may look more like a water buffalo when
she’s 40 — not to mention the irony of sporting a mythological symbol
that no longer applies.
Young women in particular must feel that
tattoos add to their sex appeal. How else to explain getting full-sleeve
tattoos and ones that extend into their cleavage and other intimate
areas? A tattooed arm or ankle would suffice to answer the call of
adolescent rebellion.
I don’t doubt that there are young men who
find amply illustrated women to be appealing. But, again, we all grow
up, and — along with our bodies — our tastes, interests, and concerns
change. Styles also change.
What if the current tattoo mania turns
out to be but a generational fad? If that’s the case, what will today’s
tattooed women say when their grandchildren ask why they have those
“cartoons” all over their bodies?
I have a suggestion: “It seemed like the thing to do at the time.” What else can they say?
Contact Ed Palm at efpalm@centurylink.net.
