Sometimes as I’m eating lunch I’ll catch a pic on a news site of Amy Winehouse and then, in that unpleasant moment, I’ll almost lurch up my tuna salad…aaaaarrrhhh. Ewwwwwwww…That is gross stuff. I’m not just talking about her disgusting teeth and rat infested hair and her crack-induced mummified flaking skin, but her tattoos. Is there anything more grotesque on women than an array of large dark tattoos? Especially tons of them? Amy’s skin surface looks like some soiled newspaper that’d been spread along the bottom of a parrot’s cage for a month and a half.
But it’s not only poor flea-bitten famous Amy that hosts so many tattoos. Take a look at Angelina Jolie. OK, she’s alarmingly thin, but, unlike Winehouse, her hair isn’t thumping about with rodents or cockroaches pouring out of her crotch. She is at least clean looking. Her skin, execpt perhaps for her pronounced veiny arms (supposedly from working out so much), is satiny smooth; her hair is clean and shiny (luxuriant, you want to run your fingers through it…though that’s another story) . But–and here’s another aaaaarrrhhh coming on–her back looks like the garish air-brushed “paintings” you see on the side or hood of a van, mixed in with some newspaper clippings.
Amy and Jolie aside, along with numerous other Hollywood/entertainment types, what seems to be very popular today, even on teenage girls, are those large glaring winged back tattoos, especially the ones at the base of the spine. Smaller ones look like a Rorschach inkblot test. The bigger ones look like the ravages of some disease that is festering uncontrollably on the skin, and growing, or a huge dark insect that has settled on the back and is gnawing at the bone.
Well, it’s the woman’s skin, you say, and she can do what she wants with it. Absolutely. But what about us poor guys. When a guy strokes a woman’s back, starting between the upper shoulders and sliding down and through the inward arc of her silky back, he doesn’t like the idea of his hand coming into such close proximity to some huge insect sprawled just above her lumbar region. It takes away from what should be the smooth “sloping run of the back.” He doesn’t want any disruptions. It’s like going down a ski ramp: you certainly don’t want to come across an obstacle: no, you want your skis on the smooth (there’s that word again) surface all the way down.
Getting off the back another awfully placed tattoo is the one on the ankle. I don’t know off hand if Amy has an ankle tattoo or not. I’ll take a closer look when i’m not eating (of course in her case if it appears she does it could be just dirt). A woman’s leg should be free of distractions other than the shape and quality of the skin itself (yeah, I know, this sounds dangerously sexist). Again I use the ski slope analogy: you want your hand gliding down gently, you don’t want any dark foreboding insect/disease-looking impediment in the way as you head down to the foot. Also, ankle tattoos resemble sinister police installed radio-controlled big black ankle-bracelets; of course, if you’re the type that likes “prison babes” (aka bad girls) than this might be a turn on for you. Personally I don’t (however I do appreciate thin gold removable ankle chains.
Getting back to the back. In short, back tattoos are like so much graffiti. The problem with tattoos, however, is they can’t be recycled. You’re stuck with that inky look. Lasers can “remove” some of the mess but i understand it’s a long and very expensive process.
Update: Like celebs with tattoos? Here’s a whole bunch of these ink slop sleazebags here.