I have never once in my life wanted to get a tattoo. This is surprising, as I’ve never been one to turn away any sort of accessory or adornment. But the permanence of a tattoo scares me. They’ve always seemed nice in theory; in my mind I’ve slotted them next to things like culottes or overalls: great on other people, just not on me. But lately – perhaps due to a slightly premature mid-life crisis, and certainly fueled by evenings spent binge-watching Ink Master — I’ve started to rethink ink.
I recently read an article in an issue of the New York Times Style magazine in which 44-year-old Olga of Greece — a real princess! — was quoted as saying that it’s “never too late to get a tattoo.” She said she “very recently” got her first, at some renowned parlor in Milan. You know, as princesses do.
Still, it feels as though my tattoo window has closed. I spent my teens and twenties ink-free, arguably the time most people get their first – often dubiously cool – tattoos. Certainly if I’d gone under the needle then, I’d have a stupid butterfly or Chinese symbol on my ankle. Plus, I’m notoriously indecisive. I can barely decide what I want to eat for dinner each day; how would I ever decide what to get permanently inked on my body? Read more »