tat for tit

So today, for me, I did something kinda big. Nothing like a bucket list or a life list or what not but up there with definitely out of my comfort zone. I got a tattoo. I never really thought I was a person who would get one and, when I did think that maybe I would like one, could never decide what I would get. Or where I would get it.

Do you have that thing where you can be wearing a necklace or bracelet and you can’t get it off and you begin to panic and whether it is an heirloom or not you have the urge to rip it from your being? I have that. So does my sister I believe. And so does my housemate, Mouse. I kinda thought having a tattoo would be similar. That I would one day WANT IT OFF ME.

But. I decided for my 27th birthday, I was going to get a tattoo. A rose, for I am Rosie.

I went to the tattoo shop my pal Alicia recommends on my actual birthday, having psyched myself up. The tattooist I wanted, Chris (who has tattooed Alicia, a tattoo that I like), was not available for a week. No problem. I picked OUT OF THE BOOK OMGSH the design I liked. A simple, open, rose head. And walked out. I was unaware of the absolute controversy and … and… thoughtsss people would have about this. You are most definitely doing it wrong.

I had -

Omg do not get a tattoo
DO NOT get a rose, what is the matter with you?
On your BREAST?
Leaves?? No.
Swirls? No
A RED ONE? No.
Why would a tattooist advertise he does roses? A 3 year old can tattoo that.

On. And on. And on.

Heather recommended the partner of her mate, who tattoos from home. He said he could also do it the same day the shop offered and would email me some designs. I have met this dude at a party, a few parties, and it never once entered my head that, oh, MAY be awkward that he would see my breast. But I liked the idea of him designing it and me choosing and amending it since it seemed a bit simple just to have walked into the shop and picked a standard rose out of the book (omg you picked one from a book and didn’t design it? DOING IT WRONG). Luckily, Alicia convinced me that I should stick with Chris because Chris? My kind of dude.

Anyway. Every night, in bed, I would think CANCEL. What am I doing? Every night.

I had a conversation recently with someone about his paranoia - not full blown paranoia but he will not blog/face book/link in. He does not like people knowing where he is. I said that I am an anxious person. That I do not turn my phone off just in case. He was like - that is paranoia! And I could not explain that, no. No it is not. I told him that whenever he calls me (he is a work colleague) I think it will be to tell me off. That if a police car drives past me they will pull me over. Sadly this is not an anxiety that makes you not eat. Well, not all of the time. I could not have put anything in my mouth this morning to save my life. Anyway, so. Last night. All nights leading up to this. The anxiety! Oh. The anxiety.

Heather was meeting me at mine at 10am today. I was pacing by 9.50 and in the end had to tell her I had to start walking to the shop and she could meet me there. I walked into the shop and met Chris, my tattooist, who is like a Hells Angel coupled with a Hairy Biker. Everything *I* think a tattooist should be. He was like, alright love, I am just gonna have a cigarette and will be right with you.

Chris is the owner of the parlour I went to. As he walked off, another tattooist out front asked where I was getting my rose.

Me: On my breast, here.
Him: *Sucks in his teeth and pulls a face*
Me:….. Did you really just do that moments before my tattoo?
Him: Better to be honest, right, than I hear you screaming that I am a lying bastard.
Me: … I… guess. I thought boobs are painless to tattoo though as they are mainly fat.
Him: People lie. I had my chest done and it hurt. And so did my butt.
Me: …..

Just then, Heather walked in. I showed her the design I had chosen.

H: Er… well.. It is a bit… big.
Me: Are you really saying this to me now?
H: Well, I thought you were thinking of adding to it if you liked it…
Me: Yeh, maybe, but remember my breasts are huge so on you a small flower would look nice, on me? A spot.
H: Yeh but…hmm. Also, why red? I think pink.
Me: NO. NO NO NO NO NO. We are NOT doing this now. I am DONE. I want a simple fucking flower not the freaking Mona Lisa and if you don’t shut up I am going to get … get (looking around for inspiration) a gigantic Jesus face on my back.

The other tattooist looked at me.

Him: What is wrong with Jesus?
Me: Lordy. Literally. Nothing. I just am not so keen on the religious tattoo.
Him: I have a cross on my arm
Me: That’s fine, I am just not so keen on faces
Him: I have a face on this arm (shows me a day of the dead face)
Me: Well. That is kinda cool. Ok. I am not keen on names really, either.
Him: I have a name on my butt
Me: HAHA! Ok. I am going to shut up now.

The moral of the story is, get whatever tattoo you want. You love it and have thought it through? That is ALLLLLL that matters.

Chris: Are you ready?
Me: Yep.

I follow him to the back, through another tattooists room and a dude getting tattooed.

Chris: So, you are going to have to.. strip then.
Me: Brilliant!
Chris: And the bra!
Me: At the risk of cliché… normally I have a drink at this point. Or a few.

So he applied the transfer of the rose I had picked and asked me to look in the mirror. I wasn’t sure. Thought it should be moved over a little. But seemingly I do not like inconveniencing people, even in this kind of situation. He looked at my face. ‘Should we move it over a bit?’ Me - YES PLEASE.

We had a chat about the design. I asked whether he liked it.
Chris: Yes. It is a cute simple rose.
Me: Because did you know how controversial this was to get? I mean, I thought once you made up your mind you were getting a tattoo and what YOU wanted, hard part out of the way.

I explained that people were all OMG A ROSE HOW LAME.

Chris: People are such snobs. Genuine tattooists and people who love tattoos are not really like that. They think get what you love.
Me: Yeh. I think it is like naming your baby. Don’t tell anyone what you are naming it because SOMEONE will have an opinion / know someone awful with that name / think of an awful nickname etc.
Chris: The only part of this rose I am not so keen on are the swirly bits. They are too.. meh.
Me: Eh, I can take em or leave em.
Chris: I just think if you are going to have a tattoo be a WOLF about it, not a DOG. So, have massive swirly bits, not … pointless little bits.

I lay on his couch. This is where anxiety kicked in again. Anticipation. I give blood as much as I can. I HATE the finger prick test you have first. I hate giving someone my finger and waiting for the click. I start pulling my finger away. The actual giving blood part I do not mind. Lying on his couch, that is how I felt. Inching towards the wall. He got a little towel and covered my other boob and the boob he was going to tattoo’s nipple. ‘To preserve your dignity.’ Me: ‘Few years too late.’ He scrunched up some tissue and put it on top of my boob (to wipe blood as he went) (serious, who would do this to themselves?) and at THAT moment I was THIS near to being all NUUUU UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SEEEES YAAAAAA. Luckily I am also a coward so could not say it.

Chris: Are you ready?
Me: We will see, ay.

And he started.

….

…

…

Him: How you doing?
Me: …. Fine…..

We had a lovely chat. I made him laugh a few times (don’t make them laugh. That is an inky needle next to your person).

20 minutes later…

Him: Are you alright?
Me: … Yeh.
Him: Why did you say it like that?
Me: Because, I don’t want to be cocky or anything, or in case the real pain is just about to start when you colour it in BUT…

….

….

I feel NOTHING.

Him: Good.
Me: No. Serious. Like. Nothing. Like you are drawing with a biro maybe.
Him: I AM!
Me: ….
HIM: JOKE!

Side bar -

Me: So, do you like the colours of this rose then?
Him: Yeh, I do... Do you?
Me: Yes. Its just... so... I am slightly colour blind...
Him: OMG OMG OMG OMG ! SERIOUS? Oh! Oh! LOLZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Me: So, I think it is green, red and yellow but.. it is, right?
Him: HAHAHAHHHAHAHAH. Yes, dear, it is lovely.

So. It lasted about an hour. Under I would say. Was completely painless and I loved it.

Other staff did come into the room and go about their business and at one point the guy I had the chat with in the waiting room was all: ‘coffee Chris?’ and Chris was all ‘lovely thanks!’. And he walked past into the next room.

Me: Serious. Is my boob out in your kitchen?
Chris: Don’t worry. I have covered your nipple.
Me: Great. 1% covered then!
And then we both got the giggles.

Chris: Ok, so in a couple of hours wash it with a sensitive / antibacterial wash and cover it with nappy rash cream.
Me: Should I cover it with something?
Chris: No, don't keep it covered. That would be a crying shame, they are great boobs!
Me: Thanks!

Some people could say that and I would be all, inappropriate, but Chris was telling me about his partner and how he tattoos her (in those standard flowers and butterflies and ooo a unicorn! But as long as she is happy) so it was just.... nice.

We walked out to reception where Heather and the other tattooist were.

Heather: Alright? Did it hurt?
Me: Well, I feel bad saying this in front of him (other tattooist) but… yeh. Completely painless. Didn’t know he had started.

Other tattooist: Must be because I am more of an A cup and he was… like hitting bone or .. something.

So, currently, 13 hours later, I still love it. And what they say is true. It is addictive. I am already thinking of adding to it. A boob sleeve. A bleeve. TRADEMARK!