ABOUT WOMEN
Saying 'I love you' the old-fashioned way — with tattoos

By Christie Wilson
Advertiser Staff Writer

This probably falls under the category of "Too Much Information," but about 10 years ago my husband and I decided it would be romantic to get tattoos together on Valentine's Day.

With two young kids in tow, we drove to the tattoo parlor and pored over the designs taped to the walls and flipped through albums with assorted drawings.

My husband had acquired three tattoos in his checkered youth: a lightning bolt on his chest, a sun on his left bicep, and a really ugly portrait of the notorious Zig Zag man covering his right bicep.

Now, there's a strong argument for not getting a tattoo. He had regretted that last one for 30 years, and after he assumed the role of self-respecting father, he never took off his shirt in public.

I hadn't given tattoos much thought before that point. They seemed too permanent, and I guess I was still hearing my mother's disapproving voice telling me it would give people the wrong idea and make it difficult to get a good job. (She said the same thing about pierced ears.)

But as I was nearing 40 with two kids, a responsible job and a secure marriage, I figured I was past the point of trying to impress anybody. This tattoo was to be a statement of my independence from societal expectations, and a bond with the man with whom I would spend the rest of my life.

Despite my husband's inclination toward flaming skulls, we decided on tattoos with a heart motif: for her, a dime-sized heart with a blue rosebud running through it, and for him, a bigger heart with a lightning bolt.

We shared each other's pain as we went under the needle — and don't let anyone tell you getting a tattoo doesn't hurt.

About six years later, the little rose-heart tattoo on my left shoulder had faded into a smudge, and I decided it was time to redo it after someone mistook it for a radish. I went back to the tattoo parlor and had the heart and rose made over much larger, and added a tribal embellishment.

Then, for good measure, I had a second tattoo done in another, more intimate, location.

Chalk it up to a midlife crisis.

When my husband found out what I'd done, he went in and had Mr. Zig Zag camouflaged with an intricate honu design. Now you rarely see him without a tank top.

While some folks use tattoos as a sign of cultural pride or belonging, I regard body art as a fashion accessory. I like to show them off or cover them up, depending on my mood and wardrobe.

My tattoos exist in places I rarely see. Most times I forget I have tattoos unless someone else mentions them or I catch a glimpse of them in the bathroom mirror.

If I had to stare at them every day, I might be thinking that maybe my mother was right.

Reach Christie Wilson at cwilson@honoluluadvertiser.com or (808) 244-4880.