When toying with the idea of getting my very first tattoo, the first warning I received was this... "they're addictive." I scoffed, laughed and thought 'pfft, what would they know.' Well, they had tattoos! Let me tell you, they did know! So my warning to all who are considering their first tattoo - don't start! Unless you are prepared for the possibility of not stopping. If you are prepared for this - then I say great, GO FOR IT! I've only met one person who actually STOPPED at one, now that's will power! Especially in the world of tattoos. For those of us not quite so strong, here is why they're addictive, well, for me any way...
* That thrill you get when walking into a tattoo parlor, for me it's from the unique smell that hits you when you open the door at the beginning of the visit and the sound of the gun whilst others are being tattooed. An adrenaline rush comes along for the ride and makes me feel like such a bad ass.
* Placing the stencil on, and wiping it off until both you and the tattooist is happy. It's that moment when you're like, right, we're doing this thing., and you stand there looking at your reflection in the mirror and seeing the possibilities.
* The minute the gun starts up, the buzz sound prepares you for the inevitable, momentary pain before you settle into the rhythm of it, slow the breathing and zen out.
* The connection you make with your tattooist. And if you are lucky like me, you stumble upon 'the one' that you know you will keep going back to each and every time. They become almost like a therapist as well, no topic out of bounds until I either the tattoo ends or the length of the tattoo has pushed you to your limits and exhaustion has kicked in.
* The connection you make with siblings and besties when you go together and get to chat the whole time with both your tattooist and your sibling or bestie, the regular gossip session. The laughter is infectious, the conversations candid and makes for one hell of a memorable visit.
When it's all done, the rush subsides and shock of the open wound sets in, this is where the compulsory trip to IGA or Servo comes in for a must have bottle of REAL coke (despite the fact I don't eat or drink refined sugars, this is my one and only exception) along with buying the Nurofen and Panadol along with the antibacterial soap for the shower. Then it's time to go home, lay around with an ice pack or 2 and vegetate in front of the tv, gingerly getting something easy to eat for dinner.
Now for my very FIRST tattoo tale...
Like all good experiences, they start with being tied to your bestie... and this was no exception. Because it was almost 20 years ago (holy shit!!) I can't remember how the topic of us getting a tattoo together came about - it was one of two ways, either she was getting one and I tagged along on the idea... or... I made the minor suggestion that I might like to get one and then, BAM, it was ON, no backing out, plans made, we're doing it. Both extremely feasible scenarios.
What I do remember is sitting on a bar stool, tucking my shirt up into my bra so it was out of the way, leaning over the back of the chair and bursting into tears. I had worked myself up in that much of a state and psyched myself out... and guess what, it was three teeny, tiny Kanji symbols. Mother, Father and Older Brother. I chose pink - my favourite colour and my tattooists name was Mr. Pink, go figure. It hurt like a bitch, more for the fact it was the 'unknown' and that I had tensed up that much that my muscles hurt even before the needle touched the skin.
I remember being in the passengers seat of my besties ute on the drive home, leaning forward, as I couldn't sit back properly as my newly inked skin was my lower back, and you guessed it, it hurt. I fondly remember my first application of Bepanthen and that smell will always be associated with my routine of getting tattoos. This was also where the coke fix started, but back then it was diet coke and it was either a milo bar or a boost bar (we ate way too many over the years so I can't remember 100% but leaning towards the boost bar).
The days following the tattoo, I'd happily lift my shirt to show anyone and everyone and loved the fact it would accidentally be seen if my shirt was short or my trousers low. I loved the talking point it brought. "Hey, check out my tat" always a great sentence starter in my world.
After this extremely small first tattoo, I'm happy to say that subsequent tattoos have seen me become increasingly more hard core, more resilient to pain and a whole lot more confident in myself and in my body. I don't have a tattoo that I regret, I love them all and the journeys they have taken me on.
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