Not Your Grandmother’s Tatting…
(For you young folks, tatting used to be a way of making durable lace. Now, I get it, it means tattooing.)
“Tattooing is addictive,” my daughter Anna warned.
“Bah!” thought I. “I’m 60 years old and have got this far without tattoos. I think I’m out of the woods on this one.”
Until now…
No, I have not got the words “mother” tattooed on my arm, emblazoned by a heart. But I am thinking of something…
Let me backtrack a little here. I don’t wear makeup. It’s not that I don’t appreciate good makeup – I do. But I am lousy at it. When I put on eyeliner and lipstick, I look like the offspring of a Alice Cooper and Bozo the Clown. It doesn’t help that I rub my face constantly and I smile widely.
I have worn makeup three times in my adult life – once at my own wedding, at Anna’s and Neal’s wedding, and son Tom’s and Julie’s wedding. Every time, someone else did my makeup. And every time, after an hour or so, I likely had as much on my hands as on my face, and my makeup had changed its location more than a tad.
About a year ago I noticed my Arizonan friend April always has beautiful eyeliner. It’s a very thin line and it’s always straight and never smudged. I just had to ask how she did it. She smiled, “It’s tattooed. I don’t have time for this [putting on makeup every morning.]”
Oh!
There is usually a lag time of at least a year between when I think about doing something, and when I actually get around to doing it (if I do it at all.) I mentioned my wish to Anna who rocks a number of gorgeous tattoos under her pharmacy smock, and she suggested I try out “Really Nice Tatts” (not the real name.)
So Thursday afternoon, after our WeightWatchers meeting (and there is a story to be told about that one,) we drove out Really Nice Tatts for a consultation appointment. Forget your images of tattoo parlours, this is a spa environment – right down to the stunning artwork on the wall, created by Jenny Herself (not her real name.)
Zowzers! Jenny took pictures of my (heavily wrinkled) eyes and then showed me on photoshop how she would go about this. It’s called “enhancing” and it takes three sessions. The first one, she puts on a fine line of dots, only where the eyelashes are. It’s hardly noticeable, but makes your eyes more visible. The second and third session she can simply reinforce what has been done – because initially the tattooed line will fade – or fill it in a little more. My choice.
Let me put my name on the dotted line – I signed up for three sessions. (Anna is getting a couple of tattoos enhanced, but that’s her story to tell.) The first one is May 18.
No surprise, my hubs Laurence – being a Scot - is not impressed by this. We have a joke in our household, “Divorce is expensive!” But in the past few months, divorce might have been cheaper than being married to me. I bumped into someone’s car in the parking lot – that cost just over $500. We had to fly back to Canada from AZ early because I developed a health problem – that cost just over an extra $500. I took in a stray cat and her dental work will be – well, at least it’s under $500. And my eyeliner will be well under $500 too.
Laur commented, “Well, I’d better get busy spending money on myself then!” And I snarked, “Well, why don’t you then!?” Probably not a good time to tell him I was thinking of buying a FitBit Flex (well under $500) to make sure I get my 10,000 steps in everyday. No matter, it will be at least a year before I even think of getting around to it. He’ll have forgotten my other mammon sins by then.
*****
As we were leaving “Really Nice Tatts,” I joked with Jenny, “When you can get rid of winkles, let me know.” She laughed and said, “Well, you know… There is such a thing as dry-tattooing for wrinkles.” I don’t pretend to know how it works, but there is something about collagen being stimulated which reduces wrinkle depth and size.
Good heavens above. If I went down this route, I would definitely become a tattooing addict. The cost of dealing with the facial wrinkles I have would put four kids through college. And, truth be told, I am never going to practice good skin care or reduce my time in the sun and wind. And, I have a very expressive face, to go along with my “animated” personality. I’ll be creating new lines faster than Jenny can repair my old ones.
Nah! Instead, I have bought the book “Wrinkles Don’t Hurt” by Ruth Fishel for only $15.00. In fact, I liked it so much I bought a second for a friend and not because she has wrinkles. I won’t go into details, but suffice it to say that Ruth knows what it’s like to hit rock bottom and to climb out – hand over hand – into a peace-filled though imperfect life, with a lot of help from her friends and Friend.
I need to take a few lines out of her book and that of Olivia Williams who writes, “My skin may have wrinkles but it's because I'm smiling so much. That might sound like some terrible American Greetings card, but I feel it's immoral for me to castigate my body for getting older, when it does everything I ask of it.”
OK, my body doesn’t do everything I ask of it. (In fact, it does things I don’t want it to do.) But it’s hanging in there. Take yesterday, for instance – Laurence and I hiked and biked all around some historic Welland Canal sites. I said to him at the end of the trek, “I am so glad I am still able to do this…” Arthritic wrists and aching calves, notwithstanding.
But this morning, when I brought Laur his morning coffee, he said, “Did you sleep OK last night? Your face looks all pinched in.” Grr. And then realizing his gaff, he added, “Must just be the windburn from our outing yesterday…”
Pass the rehydrating sunscreen – please and thanks.
“Tattooing is addictive,” my daughter Anna warned.
“Bah!” thought I. “I’m 60 years old and have got this far without tattoos. I think I’m out of the woods on this one.”
Until now…
No, I have not got the words “mother” tattooed on my arm, emblazoned by a heart. But I am thinking of something…
Let me backtrack a little here. I don’t wear makeup. It’s not that I don’t appreciate good makeup – I do. But I am lousy at it. When I put on eyeliner and lipstick, I look like the offspring of a Alice Cooper and Bozo the Clown. It doesn’t help that I rub my face constantly and I smile widely.
I have worn makeup three times in my adult life – once at my own wedding, at Anna’s and Neal’s wedding, and son Tom’s and Julie’s wedding. Every time, someone else did my makeup. And every time, after an hour or so, I likely had as much on my hands as on my face, and my makeup had changed its location more than a tad.
About a year ago I noticed my Arizonan friend April always has beautiful eyeliner. It’s a very thin line and it’s always straight and never smudged. I just had to ask how she did it. She smiled, “It’s tattooed. I don’t have time for this [putting on makeup every morning.]”
Oh!
There is usually a lag time of at least a year between when I think about doing something, and when I actually get around to doing it (if I do it at all.) I mentioned my wish to Anna who rocks a number of gorgeous tattoos under her pharmacy smock, and she suggested I try out “Really Nice Tatts” (not the real name.)
So Thursday afternoon, after our WeightWatchers meeting (and there is a story to be told about that one,) we drove out Really Nice Tatts for a consultation appointment. Forget your images of tattoo parlours, this is a spa environment – right down to the stunning artwork on the wall, created by Jenny Herself (not her real name.)
Zowzers! Jenny took pictures of my (heavily wrinkled) eyes and then showed me on photoshop how she would go about this. It’s called “enhancing” and it takes three sessions. The first one, she puts on a fine line of dots, only where the eyelashes are. It’s hardly noticeable, but makes your eyes more visible. The second and third session she can simply reinforce what has been done – because initially the tattooed line will fade – or fill it in a little more. My choice.
Let me put my name on the dotted line – I signed up for three sessions. (Anna is getting a couple of tattoos enhanced, but that’s her story to tell.) The first one is May 18.
No surprise, my hubs Laurence – being a Scot - is not impressed by this. We have a joke in our household, “Divorce is expensive!” But in the past few months, divorce might have been cheaper than being married to me. I bumped into someone’s car in the parking lot – that cost just over $500. We had to fly back to Canada from AZ early because I developed a health problem – that cost just over an extra $500. I took in a stray cat and her dental work will be – well, at least it’s under $500. And my eyeliner will be well under $500 too.
Laur commented, “Well, I’d better get busy spending money on myself then!” And I snarked, “Well, why don’t you then!?” Probably not a good time to tell him I was thinking of buying a FitBit Flex (well under $500) to make sure I get my 10,000 steps in everyday. No matter, it will be at least a year before I even think of getting around to it. He’ll have forgotten my other mammon sins by then.
*****
As we were leaving “Really Nice Tatts,” I joked with Jenny, “When you can get rid of winkles, let me know.” She laughed and said, “Well, you know… There is such a thing as dry-tattooing for wrinkles.” I don’t pretend to know how it works, but there is something about collagen being stimulated which reduces wrinkle depth and size.
Good heavens above. If I went down this route, I would definitely become a tattooing addict. The cost of dealing with the facial wrinkles I have would put four kids through college. And, truth be told, I am never going to practice good skin care or reduce my time in the sun and wind. And, I have a very expressive face, to go along with my “animated” personality. I’ll be creating new lines faster than Jenny can repair my old ones.
Nah! Instead, I have bought the book “Wrinkles Don’t Hurt” by Ruth Fishel for only $15.00. In fact, I liked it so much I bought a second for a friend and not because she has wrinkles. I won’t go into details, but suffice it to say that Ruth knows what it’s like to hit rock bottom and to climb out – hand over hand – into a peace-filled though imperfect life, with a lot of help from her friends and Friend.
I need to take a few lines out of her book and that of Olivia Williams who writes, “My skin may have wrinkles but it's because I'm smiling so much. That might sound like some terrible American Greetings card, but I feel it's immoral for me to castigate my body for getting older, when it does everything I ask of it.”
OK, my body doesn’t do everything I ask of it. (In fact, it does things I don’t want it to do.) But it’s hanging in there. Take yesterday, for instance – Laurence and I hiked and biked all around some historic Welland Canal sites. I said to him at the end of the trek, “I am so glad I am still able to do this…” Arthritic wrists and aching calves, notwithstanding.
But this morning, when I brought Laur his morning coffee, he said, “Did you sleep OK last night? Your face looks all pinched in.” Grr. And then realizing his gaff, he added, “Must just be the windburn from our outing yesterday…”
Pass the rehydrating sunscreen – please and thanks.