Greetings from the newest member of all things Chick Swaggerish, and I can’t tell you what a complete delight it is for me to be here! Whoo Hoo! I was thrilled the day I was invited to be a part of this fabulous group, and that same excitement has continued as I’ve gotten to know the lovely hens in da house! Whoot! I am one lu-u-ucky chick!
My post today is about a topic near and dear to my heart…and possibly yours too depending on your “think” of ink. That’s right, I’m talking about tattoos. We all know them, some of us love them, and a few of us even sport them depending on our bravery level and threshold of pain.
They can signify a variety of things—some folks get tatted in memorandum, others to detail a specific rite of passage or religious belief, and still others for the sheer fun of decorating a part of their body. Tattoos run the gambit of causing hair-raising shivers, to holy hell sexy, to hilarious, to incredible works of art. I’ve heard of women getting their eyelids and lips tattooed in an attempt to look glamorous straight out of bed. Hell, I’ve even seen a few grimace-inducing, curl-my- toes tats. Nipples, penises, eyeballs, tongues—if you can get it in front of the artist and keep it from twitchin’, it seems they are happy to tat in that ink.
As a card-toting member of the tattooed generation, I can honestly say they are one of my favorite things. Roses on shoulders and angels on torsos, barbed wire biceps and… Well, you get the picture.
But, here’s the thing. Despite how each of us may choose (or not choose) to embellish our bodies, there’s one thing above all we ain’t dodging. Age, my friends. Regardless if you are a tattoo or not to tattoo, time catches up with us all.
Believe it or not, even at the ripe old age of twenty-five, I took the age factor into consideration prior to getting my first tattoo. I gotta give props to the moms on that one. Even though her initial reaction to my foray into the seedy underbelly of tattoo parlors was horrified shock (she worried unnecessarily—the place resembled my gynecologist’s office) she gave me a good piece of advice. “Do yourself a favor and put it somewhere that won’t sag.” Check!
Let’s be real. Sure, I love me a smokin hot tower of tattooed angst. To me, there really isn’t anything much sexier than a ripped guy sporting some well-placed ink. But I also gotta ask. What’s that gonna look like in about forty years?
Is this guy…
Gonna end up lookin like this guy?
(I’m lovin those fuzzy shoulders. SEXY!)
What about these two?
Are they destined for this?
Here’s a set of friends who look like they’re up to something freaky.
Are they headin in this direction?
(By the way, this photo was called “Manly Tattoos for Men”)
While I love tattoos and think they are hotter than a jam-packed freeway on the Fourth of July, a small part of me also sorta sits back and drums her fingers when she is presented a body full of ink. Did that person really think that through? Did they consider gravity and all its pitfalls before stripping down and climbing into the chair? What is your take on age vs. tattoos?
P.S. If you’re interested in seeing more of this tattooed awesomeness, just click on the pictures to be taken directly to the source. :-)