Ode to my tats

I have three and I love them all. I can’t imagine being without them. They’re not all in fashion anymore or cool anymore, in fact many people have trouble figuring out what the one on my leg is, but I love them. My tats are a way for me to remain me. Even when I’ve been shunted around by people telling me what to wear and how to present myself if I want to get work, I still have my tattoos representing who I really am. When I have to wear floral summer dresses and baby pink nail polish, I don’t feel like I’m betraying the rock fan in me, because I’m still wearing my tattoos. It really opened my wardrobe opportunities. Before I got them I felt I had to wear the clothes of my subculture, which lets face it, doesn’t suit me very well. I’m too short and frumpy to pull off the baggy t-shirt and corduroy pants thing. It didn’t stop me wearing it, but since I got my first tattoo I found I didn’t need to anymore. I can wear whatever I like without feeling like I’m betraying myself. It’s a good thing too, because of what I chose to become when I grow up. Going to castings, or visiting my agent who wants us all to be cookie cuts of each other. They want us all to look like blond, brunette and redhead versions of the same person. Cut your hair, colour it, loose weight, dress differently, wear your make-up like this, smile like that, say things like this, and don’t talk too loud. All that would have bothered me much more. I have had moments when I’m at the gym or having to spend extra time in the morning to try and look nice where I think its utter bull. It is bull, but I suppose its my choice to take that and deal with it, also, you know what, it’s okay, because even while I’m having to do all that crap, I’ve still got my tattoos, and they can’t make me take it off, even if they wanted to. Hehe, the final say is mine.