When Tattoos Cost an Arm and a Leg

Tattoo. Taboo. Those concepts used to go together like "Hell's" and "Angels," and frankly, that was fine by me. No need for normal folks to look like bikers.

But now? Everyone's got a little heart somewhere — or skull, or symbol that they dearly hope means "strength" but may, in fact, mean "dried string beans." Tattoos have gone mainstream, and we're all getting used to that. I, for instance, no longer automatically think anyone who gets one is going to regret it for the rest of his or her sad, cigarette-filled, low-paid, heavy-drinking life.

However — upscale tattoos? Tattoos that announce, "I am rich and discriminating" rather than shouting, "I need a beer"? Must we adjust to tattoo culture yet again?

We must, because it's here. Just ask Marisa DiMattia, an international lawyer who, in her spare time, blogs on the subject of "fine art" tattoos (see needled.com).

"We're not talking about a spring break mistake," DiMattia said. Fine art tattoos are tattoos created by bona fide artists (including her husband), many of whom boast art school pedigrees and months-long waiting lists for their pricey services.

How pricey?

The most sought-after artists charge anywhere from $150 to $500 an hour, according to Billy Monroe, owner of Screamin' Ink, a New Jersey tattoo parlor that boasts a visiting artists program. Yes, just like a liberal arts college. A large tattoo can take up to 50 hours.

"Now that people realize how expensive tattooing has become, it's almost a status symbol," DiMattia said.

Years ago, when she'd enter an upscale boutique with her inked arms, security would follow her around. Now, she said, a lot of the shopkeepers get it: Her arms cost more than their handbags.

And so, the people buying these works of art tend to be pretty well off — and professional. "My husband, for example, is tattooing a high-level officer of NATO," DiMattia said, "in a full body suit."

A full body suit is … well, it ain't flannel. Neither is a "sleeve." As for a "back piece" — you can figure that one out, too. Tattoos aren't just getting better, they're getting bigger.

Which is not to say that all tattoos are pinprick Picassos. There are still plenty of biceps bulging with anchors and "I Love Mom" (the one tattoo I heartily approve of). Michelle Myles, co-owner of Daredevil Tattoo in New York City, is from the old school. She specializes in flags and snakes and the kind of Betty Boop your daughter wants for her sweet 16. On her breast.

"When I was a kid, you had to sneak out, pay for your tattoo, and come home to face your parents' wrath," Myles recalled. "Nowadays the parents pay." It's not a scar anymore. It's jewelry.

Tattoo. Frou-frou. Neato! NATO. Those are the concepts that go together now, and frankly, that's fine by me.

Pretty much.

Lenore Skenazy is a contributing editor at the New York Sun. To find out more about Lenore Skenazy (lenore@lenoretown.com), and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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