Showing posts with label body modification. Show all posts
Showing posts with label body modification. Show all posts

Monday, January 25, 2010

Tattoos and Why One Woman Thinks You Shouldn't Bother If You're Not Angelina

Sitting in the waiting room of a downtown Toronto counselling clinic (not for therapy, for once – scouting out locations for a student film and awaiting the arrival of my partner-in-crime), I idly flipped through the October 2009 issue of Elle, a highly-regarded Canadian fashion magazine that leans toward the haute couture. Due to this fact, I did not expect to happen upon

A: An article about tattoos;

Or B: A positive article about tattoos.

Best guesses as to which the article contained (Hint: it sure as hell wasn’t Option B).

Oh, it wasn’t all bad. The author did admit that tattoos look “fab” on Angelina and Rhianna, but she cautions the rest of us mere mortals to think twice before getting a tattoo, because we might not “suit one.”

There are some interesting notions surrounding this tidbit of advice. One is that only “certain people” can appropriately pull off tattoos. Whether they be exotic Hollywood goddesses or punk rock rebels remains to be seen, but the author seems to be hinting that “normal” people, with normal clothes, normal looks, and normal attitudes, would look positively ridiculous with a tattoo. She claims tattoos “suit” a person, like a particular outfit would, and if a tattoo doesn’t fit within the boundaries of your look, it is inappropriate for you to bother with one.

The other strange part of this article is the author’s experience with her own tattoo, which she got on a lark in college – by a tattoo artist in a dingy shop who smoked a joint the entire time and, quite obviously, ruined the Urdu script she had chosen. She went home, immediately hated the tattoo, scrubbed it with a scouring pad (allegedly believing this might actually work), and eventually gave up and took to constantly wearing clothes that hid the tattoo for the next fifteen years.

According to this enlightened individual, because she was incredibly irresponsible and chose to leave something as monumental as a first tattoo, a permanent and life-altering decision, in the hands of an "artist" under the influence of drugs in a shoddy shop, we should all take caution when getting a tattoo. The author could have stressed the importance of research, or how to locate a friendly and clean shop with talented artists, but instead she simply shrugs off her story as yet another reason why some people should avoid tattoos altogether.

Reading this, my immediate thought (aside from irritation and “I should totally write an article about this”) was, “Why doesn’t she just get a cover-up from someone who knows what they’re doing?” Sure enough, the author does address this – and claims it is only one of her many fantasies. She imagines herself (I paraphrase here) “At L.A. Ink, hair flowing over one shoulder as Kat von D constructs an elaborate piece to cover up my mistake, but this will never happen.”

Probably not, dear author (practically being in the presence of Kat von D herself costs at least a grand) – but why not do the apparently unthinkable and actually put more than thirty seconds of thought into your cover-up design, visit an artist who doesn’t have a blunt sticking out of his mouth, and change your mangled piece into something beautiful? Or can only incredibly attractive rebellious celebrities who get tattoos from other incredibly attractive rebellious celebrities fulfil this particular fantasy?

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

A Treatise on Stretching



The process of stretching one's ear piercing was relatively unheard of in Western society until fairly recently. Until the last twenty years or so, the practice was primarily thought of to be something occlusive only to the less civilized tribes of far-off countries, those fascinating individuals found within the pages of National Geographic with ears the size of dinner plates.

With this short piece I aim to dissuade those who think stretching is a triviality, yet another body modification performed by rebellious youth to conform to a particular subculture. Piercing, and especially stretching, is not merely a sublet of another subculture - it is a culture unto itself, with a set of guidelines and norms. The appreciation of jewellery for stretched ears is not dissimilar to an art connoisseur, requiring a keen eye for quality, materials, and aesthetical structure of each piece.

As with any social group, there are leaders, highly passionate people with a keen eye for piercing aesthetics, the biology and science behind piercing, the craftsmanship involved in creating quality body jewellery, and so on. These people are the unifiers, those who connect with other body modification enthusiasts. For years, while the traditional body modification arts like tattooing and piercing had a solid and substantial fan base, occupying conventions, clubs, and websites, there were no such community meeting places for stretched piercing enthusiasts. Stretched ear jewellery, commonly known as “plugs”, were often difficult to find. It was almost akin to finding drugs – you had to “know a guy who knows a guy.” With the popularity of urban primitivism (a movement that celebrates ancient body modification practices for spiritual, sexual, or personal growth motives, emerging in the late 80’s) and, of course, the extremely rapid growth of the Internet, stretching exploded in the underground. Online forums and websites entirely devoted to discussion and sales of stretching and stretched piercing jewellery. Crafts enthusiasts and those skilled in woodworking, metallurgy, glassblowing, and other such arts were compelled to not just create jewellery for standard sized piercing holes, but for enlarged ones as well, marvelling at the opportunities for new and creative designs.

However, this is an essay about my own personal experiences with stretching my ears, and the background information I have provided is merely for the reader to understand the legions that support and care a great deal about the stretching community. It is this community itself that is one of the reasons I became involved in the process of stretching.

Despite being a group of people whose appearances sometimes deviate radically from the norm, ostensibly provoking mistrust from most of the population, stretching enthusiasts are among the most passionate, helpful, and informed individuals I have ever come across. There is no sense of “size elitism” – those with smaller gauge ears are as welcomes as those who resemble Africans with the aforementioned ear dinner plates. They are ready to share stories about purchases or aid each other with sudden cases of finicky ears. As with any culture there is a set of phrases and terms unique to the community, inclusive lingo that serves to unite and define the culture as well as educate members on proper aftercare techniques, stretching tools, materials, and the like. Their only insistence is that practitioners be as informed as they are, a requirement for acceptance that tends to weed out those with a more casual, half-hearted approach to the process. Stretching on a whim can often lead to regret, as it is a permanent process. Improper, overly fast stretching can lead to injuries and disfigurement. Many individuals who begin stretching often do so as a misguided attempt to rebel against the man, to visually stand apart from society. Obviously, many people with large-gauge earlobes do stand apart from society solely based on appearance, but with enthusiasts, this is usually not the intention. Rather, it is for primarily aesthetic purposes: they love the look of larger gauges on themselves.

Although it may seem oddly shallow, I adore the aesthetical look of larger gauge ear piercings. There is true artistry and talent that goes into making plugs, hanging designs, and the vast majority of other stretched piercing jewellery. A great deal more innovation goes into making these pieces, each one of them a mini artwork worn in the earlobe. Through purchasing and collecting, I have learned an unprecedented amount about different types of materials – I now know about the vagaries of different types of stone, methods behind glass working techniques that make plugs sparkle like multifaceted galaxies, the beneficial properties of wood jewellery for healthy skin. It is both humbling and fascinating to be a collector of plugs, to constantly be in awe of the creative skills of a jewellery maker, to be stunned at the lovely shades and textures natural materials produce, and simply to marvel at the beauty of a very small pair of sculptural art.

I am not a particularly spiritual person, and I do not particularly relate to theories of stretching being an attempt to honour and emulate the religious beliefs of ancient tribes. However, I wholeheartedly agree with the simple fact that stretching encourages self-understanding. On the most base level, it is self-gratifying to observe the process of healthy stretching and smooth transitions to a new size as well as how well the new size compliments the individual. It is arguably akin to fitness enthusiasts, who, after countless days and months and years, take immense pride in watching their bodies tone to their own personal level of perfection. There are limits each individual must overcome if they wish to stretch further – oddly placed, thin holes that can be fixed by downsizing or even small surgical cuts, skin that is less elastic than others, dryness and other issues caused by the elements. Overcoming these limits requires understanding one’s body, in a sense becoming in tune with it. Disregard to the limitations one’s own body places upon them is, in a sense, disrespect to one’s body, and an almost deliberate form of self-harm comparable to alcohol or drug abuse.

As I stress in earlier paragraphs, above all else, appreciation and respect is the key to understanding stretching culture. To participate in it requires determination and patience (something I can attest to, as I have never had my patience tested as much as it when I wait to size up, all the while staring at a new, beautiful pair of plugs on my dresser in the next gauge). It is at once an art, a culture, a physical and mental trial that results in more than sufficient rewards.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Angelique Houtkamp

The first time I ventured downtown with a certain someone who is currently instilling my life with all kinds of awesome, we ended up somewhere between Bloor and Bathurst and Bloor and Spadina. I am terrible with directions. Please do not ask me exactly where I was, but I did end up getting stuck in Honest Ed's, and spent a few brief minutes wondering if I was to be trapped between a display of Virgin Mary clocks and 99 cent peanuts for the rest of my life.

In addition to discovering that yes, there ARE other shops near Bloor and Yonge that don't involve creepy old men selling sex toys and PVC bondage gear, I also managed to come across a Dutch artist's book in a graphic novel store that indulged my love of pin-up girls and body modification. Her name is Angelique Hautkamp, and my god, I would kill just to have her design a tattoo for me.


According to her website, she learned to tattoo at the same time she learned how to paint, inspired by a friend's gallery show. The influence of traditional style tattoos on her work is very obvious, but this only adds to their charm. I've always been a fan of beautiful but strange doe-eyed girls as subjects in art, and Angelique's flapper skeletons and animal-human hybrids are enormously appealing. Plus, as the people who know me are aware, every single aspect of tattoo and piercing culture never ceases to fascinate me. Angelique's art represents both past and future for the body modification world, a throwback to the history of tattoo art and a message to modern naysayers that tattoos can certainly be fine art too.