Tats R’ Us

TATS R’ US

Written by Vara Giannakopoulos

Photographed by Lauren Mallett

“Pain is temporary; swag is forever,” a motto I use to hype myself up whenever I’m sitting in that all too familiar reclined chair, needle dancing in and out of my skin. From a young age, I knew I’d either never get a tattoo or be covered, no in between. When I turned 18, the allure of swag won, and my mother’s pleadings lost. First, it was modest butterflies hidden deep in my bicep. Then it was a stick figure of Rodrick Heffley on my calf. In no time, this newfound obsession infiltrated my relationship with my body, which was previously tumultuous and unhealthy. I traded the hoodies I’d worn year-round in the Florida heat for tanks and tees showing off the ink. The more I invested in tattoos, I understood it to be an investment in my body and myself, radicalizing me into an unforeseen journey of self-love and acceptance. Now, with 30-something tattoos (and losing count), I’ve come to view them as accessories, instantly making any outfit cool, and me, as the proprietor, cool by association. 

Tattoos, as we know them, have existed since 5000 BCE, starting with some dude called Otzi the Iceman with a whopping 61 tats. I’m no mathematician, but assuming my calculations are correct, that means they predate Gen-Z and Pinterest. Initially used for cultural and religious purposes, they slowly came not to necessitate meaning and, through time, became normalized for the artistry alone. In terms of advancing the tattoo industry, Gen-Z has prioritized the element of style within the medium. Not only do tattoos act as visual art, but they also help individuals grow more comfortable with themselves, allowing them to explore self-expression beyond fabric and within the weavings of their own skin. 

Aesthetics play a large role in tattoos, and the inverse applies. Meaning, your aesthetic can be heavily developed through getting tattoos. For instance, if you have a “clean girl” aesthetic, you might opt for minimalism or manuscript tattoos. If you consider yourself “alternative”, you might lean towards black and white American Traditional or Cybersigilism. If you’re a middle-aged man who likes divorced-dad-rock, you’re likely to have some sort of culturally appropriated tribal ink or blown-out realism tattoo of a lion (ifykyk). If you’re like me, you’ll try anything once and become a mosaic of different styles, except for the tribal ink or any other problematic tats. When experimenting with a different ink style, I often find myself exploring new clothing styles to match. My Instagram has acted as a memorial, witnessing tattoos aid my style to grow and evolve. The motivation to become the hottest version of myself skyrocketed when I had sick tats to live up to. After getting my first American Traditional piece, you couldn’t pry my Doc Martens from my cold, dead feet. 

When out and about, I can tell a lot about someone and their style, strictly by their tattoos. Using myself as an example, you could tell a lot about my interests based on my Pink Palace and “Linger” tattoos (these tell you I’m hot and sexy with good taste in movies and music). One might believe tattoos would sidetrack from a carefully curated and meticulously planned outfit, but I argue the contrary. Tattoos do not distract; they amplify. It’s the cherry on top of an already very appealing sundae. It shows a genuineness to their style, something that most people following micro-trends cannot relate to. They act as testimonials or credentials, confirming one is not just dressing the part or acting as someone they aren’t, that’s really them. Adorning the skin with ink that beckons perceivers to view style as all-encompassing, not just fabric that is taken on and off at the beginning and ends of each day. 

Now, stay with me for a minute; what about tattoos as permanent jewelry? The first notable permanent jewelry in the mainstream, the 1969 Cartier Love Bracelet, only scratches the surface of possibilities: bracelets, anklets, rings, necklaces, waist-beads (which have their own cultural significance and history), and more. Naturally, Gen-Z has flocked and made it a trend. As much as tats have flourished in the permanent makeup industry, the new frontier is tattoos as permanent jewelry. I’m not just talking about tattooed bracelets, necklaces, or thigh garters (which all apply). I’m speaking generally about any and all tattoos that ornament the skin and appear when rocking a dope fit. Style isn’t just what clothes you’re wearing, that’s where accessories can come in, obviously. From a broader lens, style is art, and art is an aura, atmosphere, vibe, experience, whatever you will, and tattoos can play a large part in contributing to those themes. We’ve accepted piercings as permanent jewelry, but what about their close friend and first cousin, tats? The central idea behind permanent jewelry, piercings, and tattoos is homogenous. It represents a commitment. The commitment one makes to a specific accessory, artistry, fashion, or identity. Bottom line: nothing’s sexier than someone who can commit. 

When assessing a person, you take into consideration the most outright displays of expression to gather an understanding of who they are and what they’re about. This can primarily include clothing, hair, jewelry, and tattoos, all of which stick out to reflect our own interests and the things that we place value on. Beauty standards evolve, and with time, the normalization and commodification of tattoos have allowed for taboos and preconceived notions (like “Job Stopper” remarks) to dissolve, allowing for the artistry and resplendence to (stick and) poke through. We’ve grown past Kim K’s motto of refusal to put bumper stickers on Bentleys when we know even Royces have a little sparkle. 

Vara Giannakopoulos