Being heavily tattooed, I get asked a lot by the un-inked why I do it. Here are some of the explanations I give. Some I feel all the time, some I feel about once every three months. And some are just outright lies.
because it looks cool
because its my autobiography on my skin
because it connects me to my inner primal Goddess and the Old Ways
because you can whip ‘em out at parties and show off
because I always preferred my ice cream with 100’s and 1000’s on it
because, like Cher, I too am a rock n roll woman who has lived
because it makes me feel sexy
because I’m an outsider, a queer, and I hate my mum and I refuse to tidy up my bedroom and do my homework
because its my drug of choice
because when the inevitable happens and due to public demand I become a stripper it will be a profitable and memorable gimmick
because I feel permanently and beautifully decorated and bejewelled
because I am the baddest mother fucker who ever walked this haberdashery department
because its a way to reinvent your self over and over again
because I’ve always wanted to be a wrestler rather than a writer
because no one can take them away from me
because despite my short hair and nondescript clothes I still have the heart of a Goth
because art is so important to my life, I must have it close by at all times
because I’m compensating for feeling insecure about the size of my penis
because its for life, not just for Xmas
because my headless corpse will always be easily identifiable
because I always wanted to be Querelle of Brest , Shirley McClaine in Sweet Charity, The Fonz and Lemmy from Motorhead all rolled into one
because it works as bait to pull the boys (and I’ve yet to meet one who doesn’t love them)
because I’m scared of dying
because I love Rock ‘n’ Roll (so put another dime in the juke box baby)
because every time I fall in love I want to write his name on my skin
because every time my heart is broken I want a coloured scar
forever
because it says more about you than cash ever can
because I really want to fuck Henry Rollins till he screams
because it feels like dignity
because sometimes I’ve just got to be a bad, bad boy
because its a reward to my self for getting through the day
because its my drug of choice
because I’m nearly 45 and can do what the fuck I like
because I’ve got one life to live
...and just because it feels kind of right.
That’s why I have tattoos.