Bangs Gets Tattooed
I got my tattoo when I was 17. The first among my friends to do so. I was the coolest chick on the block (according to a survey I did which involved only me). I had planned it out for weeks on end, my parents (because they are the coolest parents known to mankind) helped me pick out the design. I was obsessed with Japan and always loved Kanji, so I settled on the Kanji symbol for ‘Love’, which was my positive, uplifting message to the world. The first few years, I didn’t mind it, then I reached a point where I was embarrassed by it. Speak to any tattooed woman in her late 20s/early 30s and somewhere around 1998, we all just went Kanji crazy – there are legions of us. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand the pain of having it lasered off, so I thought I’d get it covered. I wanted to go through the next phase of my life with a belly I wasn’t embarrassed to look at. (Lots more pics below)
I went to Charlie Shazer of Kidz Love Ink just off Brick Lane. I showed him the tattoo Pinterest board I’d made (possibly the least gangsta way anyone has rocked up to a tattoo shop, but my levels of geekery know no bounds), with the types of things I liked. I really didn’t have anything deep and meaningful I wanted to put there, I just wanted something that looked pretty. Charlie introduced me to the work of Amanda Wachob and I was in love. It was decided, I’d have something abstract, incorporating ink splotches and paint brush strokes, something nice and colourful.
Yesterday, I buried my nerves as I lay on the ‘relaxation table’ (as Charlie rather hilariously calls it) to get inked. I practiced Pilates breathing techniques to get me through the pain and zoned out. I did not cry, I did not scream. Instead, I sort of reveled in the buzz (both literally and metaphorically) of inking a new chapter of my life – a more colourful, creative one. A beautiful mess.