Tag: Fashion Pearls of Wisdom

Posted on

Fashion Pearls of Wisdom: Ink Poisoned

Our guest blogger is Natalie McCreesh aka Pearl, a fashion lecturer,  freelance writer and creator of Fashion Pearls of Wisdom. This is the fourth of many posts to appear on th-ink.co.uk, in which Natalie will be telling us about her life in tattoos. Read the first, second and third in the series. 

nattta

I just tapped out during a tattoo session…

It’s one of the biggest fears people have before their first long sitting but for those of us regularly taking 3-5 hours at a time we are used to the process and become a little blasé about it all. Don’t get me wrong, there’s been a few places I’ve been tattooed that have made my eyes water – I very nearly did a little cry having my ribs tattooed. Once you know what to expect however, you learn to eat something beforehand, drink some water throughout and breathe deeply to get you past the tough spots.

Tattoo by Tacho Franch 

I generally enjoy getting tattooed, it’s exciting, it’s fun chatting to your artist and hanging out in the studio. I don’t even mind the Bepanthen rituals in the days that follow, the Clingfilm wrapping and the bizarre clothing choices you have to make to avoid any rubbing. The past few times however I’ve not been as enthusiastic, confessing to my boyfriend ‘I really don’t want to get tattooed today’. But when you’ve made the bookings and you really want a piece finished you just put those thoughts to one side and get on with it.

I went into the sitting without any worries, we were going to finish off the little bits of colour on my back piece and get the lines in to extend it down the back of my legs. I’ve got fairly big tattoo in that area already which wasn’t a problem so I had no feelings of apprehension.

I knew I was in trouble after the first line, I couldn’t relax into it like usual. Not a word was uttered as I hid my head under my hoodie. My amazing artist sensing the struggle just cracked on with it as fast as possible. How I even managed an hour I have no idea, by that time I was shaking all over, boiling hot and feeling sick. My body simply couldn’t take it and I tapped out. After some food and a hot drink, I calmed down and felt much better. The guys at the studio really looked after me as always and I was able to continue the rest of the session just with some little bits of colour on a different area – certainly no more lining!

After that we agreed that my body needed some TLC, I’d pushed it too far. I usually only have one sitting a month at most but I’d had four in a month, three of those in just one week. I usually heal quickly, within 6-7 days for the main stages but I still had unhealed patches from two weeks earlier. These patches struggled to heal well and ended up in deep sores, which will now have to be retouched. So my artist has put me on a tattoo ban for two months, during this time I am also going to take a much needed holiday in the sun. Falling back into unhealthy eating habits and missing out on gym time due to unhealed tattoos had taken its toll.  This break will be hard for me, especially if I end up at any conventions in the meantime, but it’s been a real wakeup call that we have to love our bodies from the inside just as much as the outside.

Posted on

Fashion Pearls of Wisdom: The Cost of Permanence

Our guest blogger is Natalie McCreesh aka Pearl, a fashion lecturer,  freelance writer and creator of Fashion Pearls of Wisdom. This is the third of many posts to appear on th-ink.co.uk, in which Natalie will be telling us about her life in tattoos. Catch up on the first and second posts in the series. 

Aren’t you worried how dated your wedding photos will look when you’re older? How can you justify spending all that money on your wedding when there are starving children in the world? Don’t you think it’s a bit selfish getting married when some people who are still single might get upset about it? You’re wearing a red wedding dress, wow you must be a slut!? No men will ever find you attractive once you’ve gotten married. How on earth will you get a job after you are married, employers will just think you’re unreliable and unprofessional – needing all that time off to have babies!?

Be honest, you would never, ever say any of those things to a bride. Getting married is often an expensive affair that will change you and impact the rest of your life by a means of permanence. I use the wedding analogy as I and many other tattooed women face this strange barrage of questions on a regular basis. Yet there is no shame, no recognition that doing so is rude and insulting.

back

 

Backpiece by  Tacho Franch

Aren’t you worried what you will look like in your wedding photos with all those tattoos when you are older? How can you justify spending all that money on tattoos when there are starving children in the world. Don’t you think it’s a bit selfish getting tattooed when so many people are offended by them? You have tattoos, wow you must be a slut! No men will ever find you attractive once you’ve gotten heavily tattooed. How on earth will you get a job once you have visible tattoos, employers will just think you’re unreliable and unprofessional – scaring off all the customers!

It’s a given that people will be curious towards those of us who are tattooed, those who choose to go past the holiday dolphin on the ankle and cover a large part of our skin with ink. Most questions come from an innocent mouth, intrigued rather than insulting yet producing that result all the same. I’ve had a woman chase me down the street and try to lift up the back of my shorts to see a Sailor Jerry style wolf on the back of my thigh. When I turned around to give her a mouth-full I saw she was with her two young children so I bit my tongue and answered her question as to where I had gotten it done – how she could tell it was a good tattoo from the minuscule part of it that was on show I’ve no idea.

wolf

Wolf by Kelly Smith

By far my worst experience was a group of guys at a crowded bar talking loudly about my back piece as I stood in front them. I’d left the girls to guard our seats and battled to the bar for a round, suddenly I felt very alone. The bar was jam packed so I couldn’t escape and resigned myself to listening to them mutter, when one managed to saddle up beside me ‘that’s a big tattoo’ he yelled, ‘how far down does it go’ and he proceed to try and pull down the back of my dress. I couldn’t tell you what I said but luckily it was loud enough for the bar security to drag him out. ‘Bloody hell he didn’t mean any harm’ I heard his mates protest on the way out. Harm meant or not, it was caused, I’m now wary of going out at night with my back piece on display without my boyfriend. Anyone trying to pull down the dress of a non-tattooed girl would have been accused of sexual harassment. Us tattooed girls are tough, we spend hours upon hours having needles sunk into our skin, but experiences like that would upset anyone.

On a lighter note there are of course the ridiculous questions which can only be met with an entertaining answer. How much did your tattoos cost, how can you afford it? Oh I get paid extremely well from my high profile job – OMG yes tattooed people can have careers too. We also save up our hard earns just like people save up for a car, a holiday, a designer handbag. Why the choice to decorate your body with tattoos is still such an enigma for some I cannot answer, but I sure do enjoy a good witty comeback story!

Posted on

Fashion Pearls of Wisdom: New Tattoo Blues

Our guest blogger is Natalie McCreesh aka Pearl, a fashion lecturer,  freelance writer and creator of Fashion Pearls of Wisdom. This is the second of many posts to appear on th-ink.co.uk, in which Natalie will be telling us about her life in tattoos. Read the first in the series here. 

I woke up with a deep crushing regret for the tattoo I’d gotten the day before. Thoughts of laser removal and cover ups running through my mind. Don’t get me wrong it was an utterly beautiful tattoo by a talented artist, it just wasn’t the tattoo I thought it was going to be…

These thoughts and feelings weren’t all that alien to me, nor did it seem to others too. Only days before my friend had confessed that details of her latest addition had been lost in translation with an Italian artist. I too bore in mind the first large and highly visible tattoo I had, a rooster stretching from ankle to knee. Bold and unapologetic, dark against my pale skin. It was something on me, rather than part of me. Yet as it healed and settled into my skin, became smooth to the touch, my eye grew used to seeing it everyday, my body and gaze accepting it as part of me.

Cockerel by Max Rathbone 

As the day went on I found myself going through a series of emotions, I felt like I was betraying my artist by admitting my concerns, whilst feeling ashamed of myself for ending up in this position. Why hadn’t I put across any specifics that I wanted to the artist, before letting someone etch this onto my skin for the rest of my life?

In truth I was exhausted that day. It was the third time in a week I was getting tattooed. For the past few months I’ve gotten tattooed on average 2-3 times each month. You could say I’d become a bit blasé about the whole thing, when you have most of your body covered in tattoos another small one really doesn’t make that much difference – or does it?

I’d decided on the design based on the artists flash and asked her to do something similar. I didn’t see the design till the night before, again nothing unusual – in fact for all my other tattoos I’d not seen the design until right before it was to be tattooed. I choose artists because I like their work and I trust their judgement. But of course you are the one who will carry this art on your body for the rest of your life (possibly). I’ve never been too specific in my tattoo requests, I’ve given indications  and let the artist get on with it.

So why was I so upset about this tattoo? This was the first tattoo I’d gotten which had meaning, real meaning on a personal level.I have a Japanese bodysuit on the go and lots of Western traditional tattoos so yes of course in the symbolical sense all my tattoos have some meaning, however this one held personal meaning. It was my heart on a plate that I couldn’t explain away. It was my soul laid bare in a great big heart on my thigh. I realised I wasn’t worried about explaining the tattoo to anyone else.

Tattoos by Kelly Smith, Holly Ashby, Max Rathbone & Paul Goss 

No, the shock was in admitting to myself what I had actually done. This tattoo I got because of my boyfriend, not for him, not a gift, not an unyielding declaration of my love. He knows that without the need to permanently mark it on my body. I got it for myself. As a reminder not to run away when things get tough.

Now the swelling has gone down, the blood and plasma washed away, my new tattoo somehow fits.  I like to trace the tattoo with my finger whilst it’s still raised. If I had the chance to alter it now to what I’d previously imagined it to look like, I can safely say I wouldn’t – a tattoo that would have sat alongside my others, small and hidden, no that doesn’t seem right now. I adore this tattoo, its mine, its part of me. It might not have been the tattoo I first expected, but it’s definitely the tattoo I needed.

Post script: My tattoo is now healed and I utterly adore it, the overly emotional state passing in two days leaving me puzzled at how I could ever question such a perfect tattoo. I think we underestimate our bodies sometimes and the endurance we put them through in life. My advice, if you choose an artist whose work you adore and you trust them you can’t go wrong. Getting a permanent addition to your body is a big deal, let yourself be emotional about it but also give yourself time to adjust to it.

Posted on

Fashion Pearls of Wisdom: My Life In Tattoos

Our guest blogger is Natalie McCreesh aka Pearl, a fashion lecturer,  freelance writer and creator of Fashion Pearls of Wisdom. This is the first of many posts to appear on th-ink.co.uk, in which she’ll be telling us about her life in tattoos… 

I got my first tattoo aged around 16, three four-leaf-clovers circling my outer wrist. A badly executed inking of a pretty little doodle I’d drawn. Aged 32 I decided after living longer with it than without it, the time was right to have it covered up with something that didn’t scream ‘crap teenage tattoo’. The ink was faded and it covered easily with a thick black traditional snake. That was the last of six teenage tattoos to be covered up. From the ages of 16 to 20 I had acquired the odd small tattoo over the years, growing up in the 90s I had earned my tribal and inaccurate Chinese kanji. I couldn’t tell you now what had prompted me to get tattooed back then, to be honest I probably couldn’t give you a reason as to why I get tattooed now. Perhaps it was some kind of rebellion, an attempt at carving out my own identity, a desire to be ‘tough’ and ‘cool’. Neither can I remember anything about the pain, I remember getting all of the tattoos, the shops, the designs chosen but nothing about the pain.

My second tattoo was a tribal-style design in black, green and purple on my lower back, they call them trap-stamps these days, I don’t think they did at the time, if so unbeknownst to me. I got it on holiday in Gran Canaria because a girl in the next hotel room really wanted to get a tattoo but was too scared to go alone. She got something similar on her foot and screamed the place down whilst holding my hand so tight I thought the bones would shatter. I remember leaving a wet bum print on the stool I sat on from my still wet bikini. The design was just a flash off the wall, I wonder how many others got that same tattoo? Do they still have it? Do they still love it? The tattoo ended up raised in scars as I disregarded the tattooist’s advice and went swimming in the pool right after having it done.

My third tattoo was another holiday venture, this time in Aiya Napa, Cyprus. The studio was called Alien Nation and I had walked past it every day for two weeks.  On the last day of my holiday the artist was sitting outside sketching tribal designs, I stopped and chatted to him. He altered the design he was working on to fit the curve of my foot. It was beautifully done, sharp and bold. He made me walk home barefoot warning of the damage the strappy wedges I had on would do to my new tattoo

My final tattoos of that time were three clumped together on my right thigh, a string of bad Japanese possibly Chinese, ignorant as I was symbols, a red and orange butterfly and a floral vine. I know that the butterfly and vine were the last but can’t remember where the other came in now. Done by the tattooist who had done my first tattoo, a guy called Buzzard, who I think I had a bit of a crush on due to his tattooed and long haired rough cut image. Nice guy that he was, draw he could not and the tattoos were really only scratcher standard. Patchy, wobbly lined and badly coloured. Did I mention the inaccuracy of the characters? I found that out thanks to the guy down the local take-away. It was meant to spell out my name, but in fact said nothing of any sense – I later would tell people it said ‘Won Ton Soup’.

Roses on foot by Kelly Smith

Anyway the butterfly and vine was another sketch I had drawn myself, again I was disappointed at the badly tattooed result. Yet I lacked the knowledge of how and where to get better tattoos from. As I entered my twenties the tattoos stayed with me, but my desire to seek out more faded. Tattoos were expensive and as a student clothes became my only luxury purchase. I never really thought about my tattoos, every now and again I might get asked about them but that was that. They didn’t bother me, they were just there.

A good while after university I found myself living in Sheffield, to me there seemed to be a new tattoo culture emerging, one where tattoos were pieces of art not small marks collected here and there. I came across some old books on Japanese tattooing and the historical tattooed ladies which captured my imagination and were the first prompt in me deciding to go and get tattooed once more. At first my sole desire was to have the bad Chinese (as it turned out) writing covered up, being surrounded by a lot more international students had made me slightly paranoid about it. The artist I had in mind was booked solid for a whole year, so I left my deposit and embarked on a series of laser removal to fade the tattoos on my thigh before the cover-up started.

Cover up by Paul Goss

I wonder now had I not had to wait for this tattoo would I still have ended up with 50% of my body covered in ink. If I could have had that tattoo right away would that have quashed my desire? Or would I still have been compelled to gain more – most likely. Either way during this time I scoured books, magazines and compiled online searched. Researching styles of tattooing, different artists and the history and meaning behind tattoo symbology. During my waiting time I decided to treat myself to just one more tattoo – at this stage I was still in the mind-set that I would only ever have discrete tattoos. I ended up with a huge Sailor Jerry style wolf head and rose on the back of my left thigh. This was the start of me getting four traditional tattoos by the same artist around that thigh. I can’t tell you when or how exactly my attitude to tattooing and tattooed women changed during that time, but my next stage was to embark on a full Japanese style back piece. I fell in love with the idea of having this vast amount of work invisible to everyone but those I chose to reveal it to.