Found this via Gawker and threw up a little bit in my mouth.
Peter McBride can take off his polo shirt and maintain his preppy image. McBride, 22, has a Polo pony tattooed on his chest. The idea came to him as he was waiting in line behind a man at a D.C. tattoo parlor: "I noticed his polo shirt and made my decision."Before I read the article, I thought perhaps that this young man works or models for (which doesn't make it better, just slightly understandable. a wee bit.) Polo. No, he's just a douche, is all.
While the piece sorta manufactures a trend wherein people are getting logo tattoos, the fact that anyone does it is pretty disturbing. I mean, really? Who's going to have sex with this man with that thing on his chest? He has the logo of a thing to be purchased and worn with the collar popped.
I mean, sure. Plenty of people get idiot tattoos (a young man with whom I went to high school made up a nickname for himself, then had it tattooed on his bicep in Gothic lettering. He later had the Superman logo tattooed on his other bicep.). But he can look like a douchebag for a fraction of the money and none of the pain.
Since I read Until I Find You, and became the only of-age member of my immediate family to remain un-inked, I've been pondering what I'd put on myself indelibly. A line drawing of James Joyce in profile? Angel wings on my shoulder blades? Calvin peeing on the face of Derek Jeter? Some kind of "tramp stamp?" Or just some kanji whose meaning I don't know?
In all honesty, I've been thinking about a drawing of the Brooklyn Bridge.
One of the benefits of summer is the tattoo-watching. Seen any good (or terrible) ones lately? I swear, you can't swing a dead leprechaun in this city without hitting a tattoo of Celtic knotting.
