November 20, 2008
bluer than a new tattoo
When I was fourteen I went through A Very Naughty Stage, which culminated in the bright idea of getting the worst tattoo you've ever seen. Ok, well maybe not the absolute worst. It could be on my forehead. Or it could be a chinese symbol, which it's not. But still. Whenever I go to the beach or bed with a new boy (not often, Mum, sorry), I have these ridiculous and completely transparent contortions to avoid having them see it. Nearly ten years and three removal laser sessions later, I'm a sworn ink hater. On myself. But on other people, I'm fascinated.
I think the reason I don't like tattoos anymore is because forever is far too long. As Daisy Garnett wrote in her UK Vogue feature on 'Model's Ink' recently, "they used to be the mark of the subversive. Now you can get one at Selfridges".
I have to admit though, I'm still a sucker for a man with a neck tattoo. Racy.