Ohmigosh. Those girls. Their parents.
Umm… Maybe they’re fine with it? Stripping down to music on a webcam is their choice right….. God forbid I offend a couple thousand heavily tattooed SuicideGirls.
“SUICIDEGIRLS IS THE NATIONWIDE ART SLEAZE PHENOMENON” – LA Times.
I glance quickly at the site – most SuicideGirl hopefuls are about 20. When did all this happen from the time I was an impressionable teen? Oh wait, that was like, 2 decades ago. Most of the girls on the site wouldn’t be born yet. I’m a fossil.
This fossil likes tattoos. I’ve occasionally asked more mature Christians about it, their reactions are mixed. No, you can’t get one Vs It has to do with what the tattoo means to you, WHY you want one. Your conscience. Whether you’re a head case (in which case you either are a tattoo-ed head case or a tattoo-free headcase.)
When I worked in dealing rooms in Singapore, it wasn’t that uncommon for some of my colleagues to have them (strangely much fewer seem to have them in Hong Kong). One trader had a big spider on her bum. A consultant had a scorpion on his hip. It faded into a greenish smudge that friends referred to as “The Sad Seaweed”.
Briefly considered a tattoo for my 30th birthday but it’s Super Giant Turnoff to the hub. And as if I could make up my mind. Back of my neck? Ankle? Small of my back? Abdomen? Hummingbird? Tribal? Crucifix? Didn’t give scarring myself permanently the thought it so richly deserves. Scoped out Johnny Two Thumbs in Fareast Plaza, Singapore. Felt so daring for walking into the shop. Or was that the whiff of hotplate beef rice from Cahaya, the Malay food stall that’s been there for like, forever. We’re both fossils.
Vacationing in Bali and Phuket, seeing sunbathers with faded ink splotches, I know I can’t maintain that. I can’t even keep up a regular pedi routine and haven’t been for a facial in years. I know someone with beautiful large tattoos who says the secret is to not put them in areas where you get a lot of sun. That kinda sucks. I thought tattoos were decorations you want people to see.
Anyway. “Hey dear. Look at this.” It’s a great song. Catchy. The two girls in the video are beautiful, cool, heavily tattooed. I’m straight, but with that tune and those girls, I’m captivated as Kings plays it on his laptop after receiving the link from someone on his Facebook. And then. They start taking each other’s clothes off. I blink disbelievingly. I…. loved that video! Why did they have to strip?
It’s so nicely shot. It’s gone viral. Beautiful girls minus clothing. You do the math. I’m not sure many virtuous videos would spread as fast. And no, you’re not getting the link here. You probably already saw it anyway, I’m late blogging about it.
I’ve crossed over to the dark side. That black hole of a place from whence no ray of “coolness” as much of today’s world defines it or sense of humor about these things ever escapes.
But for the record (as long as I don’t later learn of some damage I’m doing to my child’s upbringing by allowing it), Rockstar may have an earring or tattoo if he pleases when he grows up. Not body piercings though – I think the chance of infection is higher.
(I don’t think he’s going to go for it though – I can’t even get him to wear a hat most of the time be it cold or sunny, unless it’s his Halloween Police Officer’s hat. He loathes face or body paints and anything he has to put on that isn’t absolutely necessary. I don’t even get cute t-shirts. Beautiful Bumps to Babes tee with a dog on the front, “Every puppy needs a boy,” and all I get from the Rockstar is “No, mum. I won’t wear.” When you have a girlfriend in another 10 or 15 years, let’s see what happens to the ‘tude, my darling.)
“That’s such a great song,” my husband enthuses. “What is that? Let’s look for the cd!”
I watch it again. I can’t help being captivated – the girls are stunning. The spring in their step as they sashay down the street, they’re everything a teenaged me would have wanted to look like. That’s the really frightening thing – how many little girls can get this on their cell phones and laptops today? Even now I feel the pull, the urge to be like Cool SuicideGirl.
Just before they start taking their clothes off again, I hit the pause.
“YOU ARE NOT PUTTING THAT ON YOUR FACEBOOK!!”
Sometimes, the man I married needs a Shot Of The Blindingly Obvious.
As all around my ears my “coolness factor” comes crashing down. It’s a spectacular crumbling of ruins that shouldn’t still be standing from decades ago. The overgrown path that leads to that way of thinking has been so untended it should no longer even exist.
“But… those swallows (tattoos on her hips) are amazing. Do you think….?”
“No. It’s huge. NO – ok?”
Fine, me too.
