your body is a temple… that i want to put my penis in.

A friend of mine who works in the hip-hop bizzz recently conveyed news that his boss, producer/vagina waterer extraordinaire Pharrell Williams, got a bunch of his tattoos removed. Originally, in an exercise of balling-out-of-control-because-I-can-ness, he had planned to have his skin grown  synthetically in a lab in Mexico and then grafted on top of his current ink (ridiculous? I think so!). But it’s a recession *BOOORING*, so he opted for the more traditional approach and had lasers do the dirty work.

It got me to thinking… is having no tattoos the new having tattoos? *scratching head*

Many moons ago, tattoos were reserved for Russian criminals, sailors and other thuggish ruggish bone.  Your parents will never understand you for them, and will always reserve the notion that ink is for gang members, rappers, and ”The Birdman” Chris Anderson.

Nowadays, however, “tattoos” are about as synonymous with “tough” as “peanut butter” is with “cheeseburger.”

Point being, tattoos aren’t seen nearly as bad as they used to be, and, within reason, have become somehwhat acceptable in most modern workplaces.  Of course, this takes a modicum of common sense– you PROBABLY won’t get that bank teller job that pays $17 an hour if your knuckles are tattied up with “Get Pu$$Y.”  (sidenote: I bet you looked at your knuckles and counted to see if it would fit or not.  Cuz I did!)

And of course, how tattoos play into fashion aesthetics can be tricky. Fashion is, of course, extremely temporal. It’s finicky as fuck and changes every season. On the other hand, unless you belong to the same earnings bracket Pharrell does, tattoos are pretty permanent and are really tough to get rid of. People who deliberate (annoyingly at times) over “what tattoo” to get for their first one are justified in doing so (I always tell them to get a dolphin above their ass-crack. Especially guys).

Here’s the thing. Tattoos are romantic in the most romantic of senses. It takes a pretty distinct combination of factors for someone to get something etched permanently onto your skin. It takes pain, patience, money and dedication to get one. (Did I mention pain? I hate it when people are asked, “Did it hurt?” And then the person shrugs it off like, “Naaahh.” Getting a tattoo HURTS. It’s needles + nerve endings = science = pain. It feels like a million little people with the strength of a full grown MAN punching you repeatedly in the same general area. Quit playing that tough guy shit. Pain is pain, and pain is real).

Which brings me to my point: nobody gets tattoos for “themselves”, no matter what kind of story they tell behind it. Each one is a message meant to convey…something. Maybe the sentiment behind them is personal, but once something is branded on the outside of your body, it’s intended for an audience (even if that “audience” only gets to see it in the bedroom *wink wink*). And that, my friends, is fucking cool. They’re personal little ideas that get made universally visual, without the feminine stigmas and pretenses inherent in other forums of traditional art and artistry.*

But I guess, for all the different connotations associated with ink, perhaps the most important lesson we can learn here folks, is that girls + tattoos = boner city, population: me.

Even when it’s retarded shit like that.

We cool.

//C

 

(EDIT)
*  Traditional meaning commonplace in a modern context.