Mary Wilkinson is a freelance copywriter in Toronto. Her words have helped sell everything from chocolate bars to integrated accounting solutions to vibrators. You can hit her up on LinkedIn.
In the old days, tattoos were reserved for punks, bikers, the odd goth, and just all around hard dudes.
Nowadays, however, it seems rare to find a guy who doesn’t have at least one. Musicians have them, jocks have them (ugh), even cops have them (which strangely makes me trust them more).
But what do these pieces say about the guys they’re permanently inked to? Here are some insights I’ve gleaned from my many tattooed encounters:
It’s hard to wake up next to the Chinese symbol for inner strength.
You may recall Chinese symbol tattoos were huge in the late 90s, so I won’t fault him for subscribing to the fad. But I am going to fault him for not covering it up with something cooler in the last twenty years. What other poor (and permanent) life circumstances is he willing to put up with?
The only thing worse than a guy who doesn’t care about his bad tattoos is a guy who loves his bad tattoos.
I used to be super into this guy who not only got his kids’ names tattooed in dainty cursive on each wrist (okay fine, whatever, he loves his kids, great) but then he got his company’s TAG LINE tattooed ON HIS FOREARM. If you’re thinking maybe that isn’t that bad, keep in mind he doesn’t even own the company anymore. Ad agencies are rammed with wieners like this.
If only it were as simple as ‘lame guys have lame tattoos’.
But some lame guys have gorgeous tattoos. I dated a guy with the most beautiful sleeve I’ve ever seen. It was intricate, artistic, steeped in personal meaning, and it was just so, so hot. I think I stared more at that tattoo than I did his face. But the guy ended up being a painful narcissist. Every time he gave someone his breathy, precious explanation for why he got the tattoo, I became increasingly aware that he was way more into himself than I ever could be.
Drinks taste better poured by hot tattoos.
I used to love this bartender who had a pretty fine sleeve. I asked him what it was all about (which is the best opening line to give a hot tattooed guy, in case you didn’t know) and he told me that he wasn’t much of an illustrator, so he just wrote about the emotion he wanted to convey in the piece, and had a tattoo artist interpret his words. This definitely made me want to bone him, but it kind of made me want to bone his tattoo artist more (because talent).
I don’t want to see an armband in 2015.
Admittedly, some people can get pretty unique with armbands nowadays. But if I see so much as a hint of barbed wire, I’m out. Especially those ones that don’t connect all the way underneath. If this dude was too scared to handle a little sting under his arm, I’d hate to see how he deals with actual trauma.
Dudes who have escaped death have the best tattoos.
It’s like some perfect spiritual formula for them. They mix one part fearlessness (i.e. “I almost died so who gives a f*** about a tattoo”) and one part mind-blowing perspective on their own existence (which makes for top notch artistic inspiration).
He’s a douchebag – to the untrained eye.
I love when I encounter one of those shallow womanizing player types who ends up having surprisingly touching tattoos. On the surface he’s all about Instagram and one-night-stands, but then you notice this exquisite piece of art on him that clearly came from the depths of his pure, bleeding heart. It’s like, dude, stop pretending to be an a-hole. I can see your beautiful, innocent soul inked right onto your beautiful, less innocent body.
Punks still own the game.
There’s this precious, pretty authentic punk who works in the kitchen at my local, and he has this tiny stein of beer tattooed on his HAND. If that weren’t insanely perfect enough, it says ‘Guzzler’ underneath. He deserves an award.
As I do with men, I look for tattoos that make me curious and amused.
I went out with a guy once who had all kinds of ridiculous tattoos. One in particular was a giant cheeseburger boldly emblazoned on his bicep. I laughed, and asked why he got it. Through his thick, sexy, hipster beard he casually replied: “Just wanted a cheeseburger.” So of course I promptly slept with him.
#NOTABLE
Cover image from: http://into-the-fashion.com/tag/ricki-hall/
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