Article © 2008 PJ Reece

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The photographs of Michael McGowan prove yet again that photo art contributes as much to the overall erotic effect as the tattoo itself. His skill as a photographer has created that all-important context.

Photo by Michael McGowan

One model's tattoos may be less erotic-looking than another's, but her personality can change everything. "Kara Mae is bright and vibrant and fun to be around," says McGowan. "She puts her tattoos where they can be seen. And her fascination with burlesque means she appreciates the art of the tease. Add all that together and you have this powerhouse individual whose tattoos truly accentuate her sensual, erotic nature."

Photo by Michael McGowan

"And Cyndie Myst (a professional dominatrix) becomes far more intriguing as she reveals her spiders and flowers. In contrast with her professional toughness, the tattoos are utterly sensuous. And that heightens her erotic appeal."

Flowers, hearts, butterflies -- highly familiar tattoo motifs like these risk appearing derivative in an era of so much media. We've seen it all! It ensures, however, that an original stands out in the crowd, as it did recently for Brian Moss.

"I noticed a girl in the supermarket -- she had a heart tattooed on her forearm. At first blush, I thought, 'cliché'. But when I looked more closely, I saw that the heart was torn and stitched back together. Not so cliché."

A patched up heart isn't erotic, of course, but it presents a good example of a tattoo worn for the wearer alone. Not that it isn't a conversation starter, or worthy of being admired for its artistry or its universal message, but it's primary purpose would seem to comfort the owner. It's a good place to begin asking seriously --

Who is the erotic tattoo for?

"Who are breast implants for?" Moss asks. We might also ask for whom the French woman wears $500 underwear. "What if you took a body builder to a deserted island?" Moss suggests. "Would he train?"

It's hard to believe that vanity would prevail in the complete absence of a community of human beings, but the question suggests that people do enhance their appearance, at least partially, for themselves. Be it lipstick, an earring, a tattoo, or breast implants -- body modification unquestionably helps people feel comfortable in their own skin. What shall we call it? A self-seduction? We look in the mirror to affirm that the creature staring back at us is worthy of our admiration. We could call it narcissistic, but let's go with 'autoerotic'.

Photo by Eric Kroll - Check his blog here

"Not in the masturbatory sense," says Marisa DiMattia, but autoerotic in that it arouses feelings of being sexy. Ask a tattooed person, and most will say they feel more attractive with their tattoos. This is especially true for women. I love the way I look in my tattoos. They bring focus to the beauty of the body at any age. Tattooing can be a positive act of wanting to change the body's look, to feel good about it, more confident, and thus, sexier."

It seems, indeed, that our culture is well versed in techniques of autoeroticism, and it's about time, according to sex & gender writer, David Steinberg. "Living joyously in our bodies is a radical, almost seditious act," says Steinberg. In his web article "Erotic by Nature", Steinberg reminds us that our so-called modern society is still "profoundly suspicious of the body, its desires and its pleasures."

People speak of their bodies as being 'temples of God', implying a reverence, but forgetting that not all worship is monk-like. Many mystics, those closest to the source of true religious experience, revel in the sacred. As did Greek gods. As did ancient Hinduism. Erotic friezes on the temple walls of Khajuraho, India, appear to be a celebration of Tantric arts. One disrobing female figure lifts her skirt to reveal a scorpion high on her thigh, signifying poisonous lust.

The ancients understood themselves as creatures infested with desire. Rather than suppressing it, they made it visible in these statues, perhaps as a reminder of the folly of the human organism. Or perhaps as a proving ground for yogis to test their spiritual strength. One theory posits that the erotic images hold hidden messages that lure the sincere seeker farther along the spiritual path, as if the sensual was a doorway to more objective and impersonal levels of perception. Armchair narcissists be warned!

Donald Richie, in his book, The Japanese Tattoo (1980), suggests that a man who takes a tattoo -- whether he knows it or not -- is first and foremost making himself attractive to himself. While he has admirers, they're likely to be other tattooed people, since much of society still disapproves of permanently marking the body.

"Tattoos are a visual litmus test," says Brian Moss. "People prejudge your ink, so, yes, it's a small pool of people that the tattooed can draw from."

According to Richie, the tattooed achieve a greater sense of 'self' by setting themselves against the larger society. We might adorn our body for beauty's sake, but in the process we become alienated from the very society to which we want to be considered attractive. It's a paradox (and a bit complicated). The tattoo helps shape our character, but at the cost of partially closing us off. It's an advantage with an accompanying disadvantage. A trade-off. Pleasure derived from pain. It sounds vaguely masochistic, which is only an extreme form of autoeroticism. But let's save 'masochistic' for the person who lays it all on the line. Or rather, the person who unzips and lays it all on the tattooist's countertop.

"I tattooed a penis with a rose and wife's initials," says Vancouver tattooist, Teresa Johnson, one of a rare breed of tattoo artist who can be coaxed into inking genitals. "I did another gentleman's penis as a tiger," she explains, "his entire penis. We call him 'Tiger Cock'. Both these guys keep coming back for more -- with their wives. The wives are always there."

Johnson is not convinced the end result is always erotic. "A tiger per se is not something our culture considers erotic," she says. Johnson struggles to imagine how her client visualizes his tiger. "I guess it's the idea of a tiger 'entering'," she shrugs.

Sacramento tattooist, Pym, wonders if 'erotic' isn't too ambitious a word. "In 20 years of being in the business," says Pym, "there's been maybe five clients who've boasted about the potential of their tattoo as an erotic aid." Could be because people aren't honest about their motives for getting a tattoo. Could also be because Pym doesn't like to get sidetracked by erotic considerations. "When I'm tattooing a well-muscled man, he might be thinking 'erotic', but for me it's the artistic challenge of using the body as a canvas. I see it in terms of art."

Pym is skeptical about the shelf life of blatantly erotic tattoos. "The body doesn't stay firm forever." And it can lose its appeal long before then. "How long does the novelty tattoo stay novel?" asks Pym. "The first time you see it -- Wow! The 2nd time -- Ho-hum."

Teresa Johnson had inked female genitals, where the concept risks getting in the way -- a wave motif up both labia, for instance. "I suppose the idea was 'the parting of the sea'," she says. "Getting a tattoo in this area feels like the needle is going right up in there."

Although Teresa Johnson has a reputation for inking where it hurts, she does draw the line. "I trust my gut feeling with a client," she says. "It depends on their self-confidence. Can they wear it well? If they're confident, then I feel confident that I can do a good job." The question of 'what's erotic' has less to do with the design than it does with the wearer's self-confidence. "First of all, is the tattoo well placed?" says Johnson, "but then you should ask them, 'Can you wear it well?"

Photographer, Justice Howard, has never asked herself these questions because she's not yet tattooed. "Tattooists have always wanted to get a needle in me," she says. "My skin is very white." So, why hasn't Justice joined the tattooed ranks? "I'm a work in progress," she says. "My art is always changing. I don't want to get stuck with a tattoo that's artistically passé."

But if Justice were ever to get a tattoo?

"I'd get an entire backpiece in the classical Japanese style. It's not erotic in the usual sense, but I love the timelessness of the typical motifs -- the waves and tigers and the rest of the Japanese imagery that has sustained for centuries. It'll never go out of fashion."

Quite unlike the flotilla of vaginas tattooed on the poor guy who no longer finds them erotic. "They work like a new car," says Howard. "At first it's all amazing, but then two years later you want a new one."

It's all too human, this contempt for things that become overly familiar. Tattooist Teresa Johnson wants to warn us about it. "There are days when some people wish they'd never got their tattoo," she says. Johnson is referring, perhaps, to that quality of mind that occasionally wants to flirt with the greatest danger of all -- of 'not being certain'. Some days we feel sexy, some days we might not. Some mornings Johnson wants breakfast, some days not.

"Your erotic tattoo is your creation," she says, "so you better know how to deal with it."
 

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