Regretting A Tattoo.
Alright, allow me to preface this experience with I would never-ever suggest a discount tattoo to anybody unless they had seen the artists portfolio and were sufficently satisfied with there work. I had waitied until I turned eighteen and had always wanted a tattoo, and up until this point had about ten piercings, nine of which I still wear and would often ask tattooed people how the 'pain' compared to say, a nipple piercing, well allow me to voice that a tattoo isn't necessarily pleasant, but I'm sure it's worth it if what your being inked with is beautiful and something that you hold near-and-dear to you. Unfortunately, I was 18- fresh out of rehab, broke as shit, but hell, IM EIGHTEEN, I HAD TO HAVE A TATTOO. Keep in mind I had just gotten out of rehab and was innebreated the day I decided I needed this tattoo...silly, silly, silly.
I had been friends with this girl who had a considerable amount of time as a piercer, and was apprenticing as a tattoo artist. Okay, I'm sure there are a lot of apprentices who own- however this was not the case, and for me to of believed that being a great piercer would bestow natural tattooing ability within a person was ignorant fo' sho. My boyfriend and I (I'm queer) were hanging out one day and I had been working on the design for a while which was a nautical star with a banner draped over it with the word 'Overcome' scrawled through it. I had envisioned it to be old-school looking, however I never once gave thought as to what colors I would use, if any at all.
I met with the girl/apprentice and showed her it and asked her to redraw it, shade it and write out 'overcome' just so I could see that we were on the same page. A day or so later I got an email from her with the design and it was awesome, I loved it although the style of the actual word, Overcome, which was to be scrawled along the banner seemed a little girly, in a bubbly script. Okay here was my first mistake, I compromised and instead of saying, "listen this is just too gay, even for me..." I praised her for doing an excellent job and scheduled an appointment for the following day.
The next day rolls around and I head to the shop, apprehensive as all hell but completely psyched and as I mentioned earlier high. I arrived punctually with my gayer than life boyfriend who was more nervous than I was nagging my arm, asking me if I really wanted to do it, yadda, yadda, yadda- things that people who don't have tattoos/nor a desire to get one say when there friends/loved ones say when you're about to hop in the chair. The studio was very clean, bright and aesthetically-pleasing, some anti-conformist, pin-up and pride memorabilia decorating the room and my apprentice all smiles, pleasant as a peach...about to mar me for the rest of my life. She asked me if I was nervous and I told her I was and she gave me a smiley face stress ball to alleviate an tension I had, or would feel during the tattoo. I was very appreciative of this.
Now, I initially had wanted the tattoo on the back of my calf, but I was told that the side would be less painful(?) so I opted for the side, lame, and after transferring the design on and looking at it, I was kinda like, 'ehhhhhh', but decided, well, it's too late the transfer is on. PS, readers, it's NEVER too late. Stupid, stupid me. At first it reallllllly hurt but after about 3 minutes it just burned like a bad sunburn and soon I was all laughs and nervous giggles. Then she 'oopsed'. "Oops?" I said. What the fuck I thought, that is the last thing I would've ever wanted to hear. "What's wrong" I hesitantly asked? "Er, nothing she replied". Fuck. Now I'm nervous and suddenly the bright decorum or smiles didn't matter, I'm now going to be permanantly marred. At this point I had begun to doubt her capibility and asked her to stop at the outline and I would get the shading/coloring elsewhere.
About 25 minutes later it was over and quite honestly I stopped looking after she oopsed me, so I was nervous at what I was about to see. First off, the lines are all shaky and/or uneven, the points on the star are dull and sorta-crooked and "Overcome" seems to look freakishly like "Welcome". She gave me an aftercare sheet stressing the importance of not getting wet and moisturizing with aquaphor, which by the way is fabulous and helped it heal quite well. On the way out of the shop the owner asked to see 'what his apprentice did now'-yikes-and after about scrutinizing it for 5minutes he just sorta stepped away with an expression like, damn that sucks. I left in a stupor like, what the hell just happened and why is my leg sore. The healing process was pretty smooth, I made sure to keep my leg outside the shower and dilligently applied moisturizer on it.
Needless to say I haven't gotten any tattoos since and haven't even had this one fixed, as much as I disliked it initially I've come to appreciate my 'welcome star' as a prime example in regretting a tattoo and will frequently show it to people with the disclaimer of, this is what happens when you get a tattoo impulsively, high and only pay twenty-dollars. PS, the girl who tattooed me is no longer tattooing, thankfully.
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 07 April 2008