COS­MOPOLI­TAN CON­TRACT The first ever tat­too ◆


Cosmopolitan (UK) - - Contents -

This is an agree­ment made by A Per­son Get­ting Their First Tat­too, __________________ (here­after re­ferred to as The Ink Vir­gin)


The Ink Vir­gin will spend years/weeks/ hours look­ing for a highly orig­i­nal de­sign with deep emo­tional sig­nif­i­cance. She will read a lot of in­ter­net po­etry, look at old pho­tos and sketch no fewer than eight ideas in a note­book. Even­tu­ally she will give up and choose one from Pin­ter­est. The Ink Vir­gin will ask ev­ery­one she knows for their hon­est opin­ions, and if they say any­thing ex­cept “Oh­migod, LOVE IT” she will re­ply that it doesn’t mat­ter what any­one else thinks any­way.


On the big day, The Ink Vir­gin will ar­rive at the stu­dio clutch­ing a bag full of snacks “for strength”. She will get weirdly anx­ious fill­ing out the health and safety form. Hang on,

is she preg­nant? Could she some­how have a pace­maker with­out know­ing? Can you get high on the smell of rub­bing al­co­hol? A text will ar­rive from her mother, warn­ing her that a tat­too might dam­age her fu­ture job prospects. She will ig­nore it.


The Ink Vir­gin will ex­plain to her tat­too artist that she wants the de­sign to be very small – noth­ing huge or tacky. As the words leave her mouth, The Ink Vir­gin will no­tice that the artist has full tat­too sleeves, a gi­ant wolf on his neck and what looks like a sci-fi porn ver­sion of the Bayeux Ta­pes­try across the back of his head. “Not that there’s any­thing wrong with that!” she’ll add.


It’s show­time. The mo­ment the nee­dle touches her skin, The Ink Vir­gin will be­gin some very dra­matic breath­ing, as though she is giv­ing birth. Her tat­too artist will ask her po­litely to stop squirm­ing. The Ink Vir­gin will sneak a look down at her de­vel­op­ing tat and dis­cover it looks like a GI­ANT, BLOODY BLOB. She did not ask for that. She will freak out and breathe harder.


To dis­tract her­self from the pain and The Blob, The Ink Vir­gin will be­gin to talk. A lot. About any­thing. She will tell the tat­too artist her life story, her views on Brexit, and what hap­pened at her birth­day sleep­over in 2002. She will be so en­grossed in a story about her cat fall­ing into the bath that she will not no­tice the buzzing has stopped. It’s fin­ished. It’s fin­ished!


Some­how The Blob has mor­phed into a beau­ti­ful flower. The Ink Vir­gin will be so over­come with adrenalin and emo­tion that she will hug her tat­too artist. The Ink Vir­gin will spend the rest of the day walk­ing around proudly with her arm straight out, wrapped in cling­film like a home­made sand­wich, so ev­ery­one can see how cool and edgy she is. She will go to Boots to buy the rec­om­mended nappy-rash cream. “Oh hey, cool tat­too,” the cashier will say. “My mum has the ex­act same one.” Signed: (The Ink Vir­gin)

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