the strange rise of middle-class tattoos
Today’s tattoo parlours resemble health spas — and are full of career women and respectable mums. What IS going on?
was done five years ago on her back, but ‘it’s a bit amateur’, she says.
She’s deciding whether to have a locket drawn around the initials, the typography neatened and perhaps some roses etched on for good measure.
‘You can get tattoos that are real works of art. My husband Colin wasn’t initially in favour, but he’s come around to the idea,’ she says.
Woody’s Tattoo Studio — run by Sean ‘ Woody’ Wood — is not what you may imagine. Sandwiched between a l etting agent and a dentist, the Victorian building used to be the local Conservative party headquarters.
Woody bought it five years ago and transformed it i nto a tattoo parlour, hairdresser’s, barber’s and laser hair r e moval service with ei g ht employees. The parlour has a bright and breezy, Fifties diner feel: blackandwhite chequered floor, Broadwaystyle lightbulb signs dotted about and books on art and anatomy stacked on shelves. ‘We have a great atmosphere here. The public is more accepting of tattoos than they were as little as five years ago,’ says Woody. And though many of his clients are in their 20s and 30s, only last week a 72yearold woman had a heart tattooed on her arm with the initial ‘J’ inside, in memory of her late husband, John. Apparently, it was of great comfort to her. Back in London, The Family Business is a similarly welcoming parlour — it looks more like an upmarket estate agent, priding i tself on ‘ t asteful t attooing f or first timers, old timers and serious collectors’.
In a back room, Minna Attala, 30, a costume designer f rom North London, is perched with her f eet up, hands tightly gripped beneath her thighs and her eyes watering as portraits of her cats, Luna and Marcel, are inked onto the tops of her feet.
It will take about five hours to draw each cat, at a total cost of £900, adding t o Minna’s c ol le c t i on of ni ne designs, which includes a bee, heart and calligraphy.
In another room, sales account manager James Thompson, 35, from Battersea, has just had the finishing touches of an elaborate tattoo on his upper arm completed by parlour owner Mo.
The portrait of a Victorian man raising a glass of wine in toast to a woman has taken six long, painful sessions over six months. It’s whimsical, precise, romantic and colourful. It looks less like a tattoo and more like a screen print you might find framed in an art gallery.
‘It’s inspired by my mum and dad,’ he says. ‘They’ve been married 47 years and I’m very close to them.’
What do they make of such a dramatic display of filial love? ‘They’re not really tattoo people — they are very conservative — but, on me, they like it.’
They’d better: it cost £3,000. ‘I’m paying it off in monthly instalments. It’s like buying a TV,’ he says.
James is a typical client for Mo, who has designed fabric prints for Liberty.
‘Our customers tend to be 25 to 40yearold professionals,’ he says. ‘They get tattooed, then put their suit back on and off they go.
‘We’ve yet to have someone come in and ask for a tattoo of a pot of hummus, but it may not be far off.’
Dr Gemma Angel, a tattoo historian and professor at University College London, credits reality TV shows and social media with catapulting the tattoo profession into mainstream consciousness.
‘ Living in a digital culture saturated with images of tattoos has made them far more visible than in previous decades.
‘And with ubiquity comes a certain degree of normalisation — it is simply not shocking or scary to have a tattoo any more.’
UNDOUBTeDLY, the changing landscape of the High Street has played a part in the rise of tattoos. Thanks to the internet, we clicktobuy clothes, food and even holidays to save ourselves the journey into town.
As a result, video shops, travel agents and many clothing shops have all but disappeared to be replaced by coffee shops, hairdressers and tattooists — experiences you can’t buy online.
Jim Uttley, 26, opened Bobinski’s Tattoo Studio in Ashford, Kent, just over a year ago. Despite four other tattooists in the same small town, up to 50 people a day come through his door.
‘We see nearly as many middleaged as young people,’ says Jim. ‘The other day a lady in her late60s came in to get a hummingbird on her ankle. It was something she’d always wanted, but it was only in the past year that she felt it would be acceptable.’
I mproved techniques and equipment may also explain the broadening customer base.
‘ The quality of tattoo work has greatly improved,’ says Jim. ‘ Where before tattooists would practise on themselves, a piece of fruit or a pigskin bought from the butcher, you can buy realistic rubber skins to try out new designs.
‘ Plus, tattoo guns are better, i nk formulas are more advanced and colour is less likely to spread under the skin over time.’
Of course, that doesn’t mean the decision to get inked is always a wise one.
According to the British Association of Dermatologists, nearly one third of those who get a tattoo go on to regret it.
A handful of the country’s top skin specialists made news last year when they revealed they were carrying out more laser tattoo removals than ever before, though figures are hard to come by as laser removal is largely unregulated
‘Getting a tattoo to follow a trend or because a celebrity has something similar is a terrible idea,’ says Kate Nightingale, f ounder of consultancy group Style Psychology.
‘ Whatever your age, within a matter of years a person’s circumstances can change immeasurably: how they think, where they live, their personal style.
‘What you might have liked or thought looked good can appear too young or silly later on in life.
‘ Tatt oo s are not like an uncomfortable pair of heels you can take off at the end of the day. Think twice, three times, ten times before getting one.’