Piercings and tattoos… it’s a bit of a cringeworthy subject to be honest. I have (and have had) both. Obviously the tattoos are still here but the vast majority of my piercings are long gone. Fact is, I haven’t had a new tattoo or piercing in ten years. 18 year old Amy, about to go to University and generally a bit of a plonker thought they were awesome. 28 year old Amy, who has a husband, a son and a career, thinks they’re a bit shit. Regrets, I have them, yes.
But, as part of the Blogtober challenge, I have to talk about them. So talk about them I will… begrudgingly though.
Just for the record, my tattoos are just diabolical really. They’re not very well done, they mean basically nothing (I just liked them) and when I can afford it, they’re being lasered off. I’ve toyed with the idea of a big cover up, but I’m so worried I’ll wind up regretting that too. So that isn’t happened. However, for now and for a while they are staying… so in chronological order.
The ‘Tribal’ Dragon – 2004 (aged 15)
Yes. I am a massive rebel. I was fifteen when I got this tattoo done (the legal age at the time was sixteen with parents’ consent). My mum and dad knew I was getting it – they signed it off and everything. I just hadn’t quite hit sixteen yet. It was straight out of the book, no real deliberation and boom, on the back of my left shoulder in an hour and a half. It’s a big, bulky, black thing that has not aged well at all. I was born in the year of the Dragon, that alone was enough to convince me that this was a good idea. It was not a good idea.
The Tramp Stamp – 2005 (aged 17)
I was in college and was earning my own wage. I felt totally adult enough to get a tattoo on my own so I got… well, you know. A tramp stamp. A tattoo across the small of my back. It didn’t have the stigma then that it does now… it’s another tribally thing with a bit more colour but it’s not much of anything. Means nothing. Looks “meh” and gets pretty much entirely forgotten about. Doesn’t mean I don’t want rid of it.
The Star – 2006 (aged 18)
Annnd finally, the most permanent and visible reminder of my tattoo phase (all three years of it). It’s on the upper part of my right arm… not quite the shoulder. In my head, it was in a place that could easily be covered. Turns out, it can be easily covered as long as I wear something with longer sleeves than I’d like. It’s more colourful than the others and has a teeny bit of intricacy but really, it’s like someone has doodled on my arm. Not well done, so the lines are all fuzzy. Aged badly. Will be the first to go. Maybe I should start a crowd funding page for the laser treatment?
My piercings are less invasive. You can’t tell I’ve had most of them without me pointing it out. The only survivors are my earlobes, which I’ve had pierced since I was maybe 18 months old or so. I never wear earrings (like, ever) so it’s a waste of time really.
I’ve also had my nose and navel pierced, which I hated to be honest. Both were in fashion when I was about 13, so obviously I was all over it. But really, I thoroughly disliked them and they didn’t last long.
When I was about 14, my favourite singer had his eyebrow pierced. Naturally, I copied him. Twice. Turns out my eyebrows don’t really like bolts of metal being shoved through them, so they started to grow out really quickly. My right eyebrow is scarred from the experience, but it’s not nearly as noticeable as it once was.
Annnd my lip. Had this pierced when I left school and actually, I really liked it. I decided to ditch it not long after I left University though to enhance my employment prospects. It’s the only piercing that I think looked pretty nice on me. 18 year old me, that is. I don’t think it would suit me now and Short Rib would almost certainly grab it.
So there you have it. One (well three) of my biggest regrets, all there for the world to read about. Please tell me I’m not alone… you’ve regretted your teenage decisions too, right? Let me know? Make me feel better…