An example of two Davids

Here’s one art form I don’t like: tattooing – because I don’t understand it. What’s that all about? I’d rather go to see Damien Hirst’s Thousand Years than have a young girl’s shoulder with its badly pricked out butterfly foisted in front of me in a queue at the post office. Did she have this done on a whim, after a night of tequila slammers? Why else would she deface her unblemished skin with irreversible graffiti? I understand that ‘corrective’ surgery is available at a cost but it’s apparently painful and leaves scarring. According to the British Association of Dermatologists, one third of people with tattoos live to regret them.

It isn’t even a fashion thing. Fashion, by its definition is ‘something that is popular at a particular time;’ it’s transient: it doesn’t last. Tattoos, whether you get tired of them or not, do. Where has this current trend sprung from?

Celebrities. Let’s blame them. Many high profile people – especially footballers – flaunt their heavily tattooed torsos, none more flagrantly, I’m sorry to say, than David Beckham. I say sorry because, even though, in 1998 he contributed to England’s early exit from the World Cup and I, along with most of the country at the time, held him culpable for the whole team’s short comings, am very fond of dear David. In spite of his ‘body adornment’ he is a beautiful sight to behold; he has an endearing grin, appears charmingly honest and by all accounts is a model parent. His celebrity marriage is standing the test of time and I’m prepared to accept there is a side to his wife that the public don’t see.

He earns millions through sponsorship deals – currently the face of Sky Sports TV; previously – to highlight a couple – the face of Breitling watches (fair enough) and Armani underpants. (Odd, being the face of underpants). Amongst his charitable work he is a Goodwill Ambassador for Unicef and supporter of Help for Heroes. The boy’s done good, as they say; he’s become a national treasure, part of our sporting establishment culminating last year in a starring role at the Olympics ceremony.

Arise, Sir David. Or will he? Are tattoos preventing him from becoming a knight of the realm? (Or would that be Posh?).  Do tattoos deter potential employers, I wonder. I know I’m being unnecessarily judgemental, but if I was in a position to recruit staff, I’d be put off by a display of exhibitionistic self harm. It seems that many folk start off by embellishing themselves with the name of a loved one. There’s an obvious flaw to that straight away, given the rising divorce statistics. Even the name of a child. Who’s to predict they won’t turn out to be an axe murderer?  Enough of this – it’s turning into a rant.

Let’s look at another perfect David. Michelangelo’s. Would his looks be enhanced if someone were to doodle over him with an indelible pen? I don’t think so. The act of vandalism would cause outrage.

The Venus di Milo, now residing in the Louvre and discovered in Greece in 1820, was found in several pieces and reassembled. Her arms were never re-attached as they didn’t appear of the same quality as the rest of the sculpture, so were discarded. I’m just wondering if her ancient creator, Alexandros of Antioch, had been experimenting with a bit of ancient sleeve graffiti. We’ll never get to the bottom of that one but I’d be genuinely interested to hear from the pro tattoo lobby.

You never know, you might convince me it’s art.

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