I was traumatised when my daughter got her first tattoo

Skin art has become increasingly popular amongst the younger generation – to the dismay of some parents

Once, they were frowned upon, or else viewed with certain suspicion. If yours were visible, you’d likely find yourself ineligible for all kinds of jobs. That’s what we were warned, at any rate. But when was the last time you saw a policeman without one? Or the teller at your local bank? Teachers, even.
At some point over the past decade, tattoos have enjoyed a major tipping point into mainstream acceptance. Was it the David Beckham effect, perhaps? Or Ed Sheeran? How about Harry Styles with his 3am-I-did-them-myself collection, or the ornate curlicues on Cheryl Cole’s right hand? Either way, skin art has now become the norm. Everyone, it seems, has one, or two, or more. “Some of my customers are in their 70s, their 80s even,” the tattoo artist Claudio Traina tells me. While it remains an undoubted art form – and many are really quite beautiful – there is also such a shoulder-shrug uniformity about them today that they appear no more remarkable than something bought in the Next sale. Research suggests that 37 per cent of people in the UK between the ages of 16 and 54 has at least one.
And so it was inevitable, I suppose, that my older daughter started talking about them with a kind of urgent enthusiasm when she was 16, and then began the countdown at 17. “I’m having one on my 18th birthday,” she told me, aware that this was when she would come of legal age. But her birthday came and went, and I watched, with curiosity, as she began to prevaricate. “Soon,” she said. “Next month. Or maybe in the summer, when I’m on holiday with friends?”
A year on, and she’s still yet to commit. She insists that she will, but just has to decide on what to get, and where, and by whom. She is concerned about the pain involved. And though the peer pressure remains, no one in her social circle has yet committed – except the outlier whose entire back is covered with a serpent. This, I think, has somehow cowed the rest of them. Tattoos may be fashionable, but they linger longer than ripped jeans or cropped tops. Consideration is key.
Saskia Sarginson, a 63-year-old writer from London, whose twin daughters, Olivia and Hannah, 33, got theirs when they were barely out of their teens. Olivia got her hands done first, back when this was still considered either daring or foolish, likely both.
“Did she tell me she was going to get them done?” Sarginson repeats. “No, she did not. Previously, I’d kept saying to both that they were young, their skin was beautiful, but they’d get to a stage where their collagen would break down, and the tattoos would fade. They didn’t care. I accept the fact that they don’t have a problem with that, but I suppose I do.”
For Sarginson, as with many people, it’s not the tattoo that’s the problem, it’s the recipient. “They’re my children! When you see your own child, someone who has grown in your body, and that you’ve brought into this world with skin all pink and glorious, then you can’t quite believe that they are going to inscribe this ink on them that will stay forever. To me, that felt quite traumatic.”
Acceptance came gradually. “Well, I didn’t cry when I saw it for the first time, but I did feel very upset. I just kept hoping that she wouldn’t come to regret it, and she hasn’t. In fact, she has more now.”
As does her twin. Together, they have “loads”.
“Olivia has this huge chest tattoo,” Sarginson says, “which is such a delicate part of the body, and one you expose quite often. I just had to respect the fact that she’s her own person, and will do what she wants to do. But,” she says, wincing, “it must have been incredibly painful.”
The increasing popularity of tattoos means that there are now more tattoo artists than ever before. Most high streets seem to have at least one parlour. They’ve risen in price, too. You’d be lucky, Claudio Traina says, to pay less than £150 for the most basic design. “It’s an investment.”
Traina, a native of Italy who runs a parlour in London’s Soho and regularly travels to the US on special commissions, says that his work has changed considerably over the past decade.
“It was difficult, years ago, to be a tattoo artist because if you had one it meant you were a bad guy, a biker, or perhaps you’d been to jail? But now everyone wants to look like Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean…”
Traina says that, in addition to people getting all sorts of pretty – if ultimately meaningless – skin art, many do now serve as identifying traits. “For example, a lot of barbers come to me to get razor tattoos, while baristas get coffee beans. It’s a thing between them, apparently. It means that they’re part of something, a group, and that they are happy to be branded [as such] for the rest of their life.”
His demographic has changed, too. Where once the majority of his customers were men brandishing biceps or broad chests, now it’s more likely to be women wanting smaller, more ornate and intricate designs, “on their arms, their midriff, around the ribcage. So many women, all around 18 to 27,” he says.
Despite the burgeoning popularity – the increasing necessity, even – many do still experience buyer’s remorse. “Oh!” Traina laughs. “People regret their tattoos all the time, but that’s mostly because they didn’t do their research properly. They went to any random place, or, worse, they bought their own tattoo kits online, and did them for friends at house parties.” The most common regret is having the name of a loved one immortalised, and then falling out of love. “So they come to me to disguise it! I always say to people: please, first do your research. And think about it carefully.”
When I talk to another artist, Jay C Rising, who works in Brighton, he says that his advice is to think twice before having any design. “Especially with younger people,” he specifies. “I would definitely say ‘wait’ if you are 18, 19, if only because your tastes can change so much at that age. I personally didn’t get my own first tattoo until I was about 22. It is a big decision, you know? Just remember it’s for life, so what’s the rush?”
Traina also advises caution, but for different reasons. “Once you start, you can’t stop. It’s fascinating watching people when they first come to get one,” he says. “There is this, this indescribable sense of… almost surrender. Honestly, the conversations we have; I feel like a psychologist! They just let go. I always say afterwards, Welcome to the club! Because 70 to 80 per cent of the time, they come back within two weeks to get another one.”
My own daughter is still biding her time, but also counting the days. She says she might want one “here”, or “here”, or even “here”, and she watches my face to gauge reaction. But like I said, I’ve made my peace. As long as she doesn’t go the full Rag’N’Bone man, I’ll be fine with it. Fine. Won’t I?
Difficult to say, but it’s climbing. Today, people between the ages of 25 and 54 are most likely to have a tattoo. Brighton has become known as the “tattoo capital”, while some research suggests that as much as 48 per cent of Birmingham residents now have more than six. In 2023, the UK tattoo industry was worth £622 million.
Tattoos have become more expensive. Where once you might have paid £50 for your first tattoo – something small and simple – now the average starting price is £150. The more ornate the design, the higher the price. They can reach into the thousands.
People are influenced by celebrities’ choice of tattoos, and so increasingly the fashion right now – among women, particularly – is for smaller, more bespoke examples that feature on the arms, the hands and the ribcage. Dua Lipa has several such tattoos.
The obvious answer is to look online. Find an artist whose work you like the look of, and who specialise in an area that appeals. Claudio Traina: “I started specialising in fine line tattoos simply because they have become so very fashionable. More and more people want them.”
Claudio Traina: “This doesn’t need to happen any more. When you go to a parlour, nobody should be in a rush. Take your time. When you’ve decided upon one, we place a stencil of the design on your skin and see if it looks good from a variety of angles, and when you raise your skin. If you are sure you will like it, we proceed. Then, once we are ready with the preparation, we start the tattoo. Obviously, we take our time.”
If you still don’t like it afterwards, you can either have a tattoo artist design over it, or visit a tattoo removal clinic. But for this, be warned: the laser technology may be state-of-the-art, but it’s likely to be just as expensive – if not more so – than the tattoo itself, and even more painful.
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