A tattoo can seem like a contradiction: in an era marked by immediacy and ephemeral fashions that quickly disappear, we decide to inscribe something “forever” on our skin. This tension is not an aesthetic detail: it is an index. To understand why we get tattoos today, we have to look beyond the ink and ask what’s behind it.
From a “marginal practice” to a language that has become commonplace
For decades in the West, tattoos have been socially stigmatized and associated almost exclusively with prisoners, sailors, criminal circles or people on the margins of society. In other cultural contexts (notably in various societies of Asia, Africa and Oceania), traditionally, tattooing has always been accepted and integrated into social life.
It was not only a standardized practice, but also functional, as it indicated status, profession, belonging or marked rites of passage. But the Western philosophical and religious tradition (with the idea that the body is something “untouchable” and with the fear of modifying it) tended to advise against this practice.
From the 1980s, tattooing began to appear among adolescents and young people, initially in a minority and often linked to certain circles. It’s at the beginning of the 21ste century that the phenomenon exploded: sportsmen and women, singers, as well as public figures normalized it. At the same time, “anonymous” people from all walks of life (teachers, lawyers, etc.) display it without hiding it.
A liquid world and a skin that wants to become a map
We live in a context often described as “liquid”: more fragile bonds, less linear life paths, more diluted philosophical and religious references and a feeling of uncertainty that has become almost structural. Life (work, relationship, friendships, identity, etc.) is constructed more and more like a personal puzzle, without instructions and with pieces that change shape.
In this context, tattooing can function as a postmodern response to a crisis of meaning. Not because it is a “solution”, but because it offers something very concrete: a way to fix, in an ephemeral world, a memory, a value, a feeling of belonging or a commitment to oneself. The body is the territory that we permanently inhabit. And the tattoo transforms it into a biographical, symbolic and emotional map.
Identity: “This is who I am” (or, who I want to be)
Many people get tattoos to build and strengthen their identity. Sometimes it is a collective identity. For example, in Terres de l’Ebre, in Catalonia, some young people give explanations to the practice of getting a bull tattoo. It is not just a drawing, it is a socially readable sign: “I am now an adult” and “I now belong to a group”.
The tattoo acts as a distinctive sign and a mechanism of community recognition. It is readable by peers, also by adults, and it helps to socially legitimize the change in status. Above all, the young person himself experiences it as the symbolic confirmation of having crossed a vital threshold.
Other times, the tattoo is an intimate statement that is also meant to be public. A young woman got a tattoo of a goat as a symbol of her vegetarianism: “thinking it” or “doing it” wasn’t enough.
The tattoo can also be seen as a biography. Some adults accumulate tattoos over the years, combining more superficial designs with others that are “essential”: the names of their children, their partners, animals associated with strength or combat, symbols of fears or aspirations. In these cases, the skin becomes an archive. It is not a neutral archive, but a selective one of what needs to be remembered, what needs to be preserved and preserved.
Belonging and friendship: tattooing as a pact
Identity is not just individual. She is also a link. And here the tattoo acts as a seal. Some young people explain what shared tattoos are after a trip: three friends get tattoos of the same shamrock as a souvenir of Ireland. It’s a simple scene and at the same time powerful. Adult life often disperses, fragments and reorganizes priorities. But the tattoo remains as a promise: “We did this”, “this united us” and “this will not disappear”.
Within groups of friends, we observe a similar phenomenon: getting a tattoo of a common butterfly, with personal variations (size and location on the body), to represent a “forever” friendship. When social connections are more unstable, people tend to look for ways to give them coherence and visibility. Today, tattooing is a tangible and socially accepted way to achieve this.
Rite of passage: when life doesn’t offer ceremonies, we invent them
In many traditional societies, the transition from one stage to another was ritualized. There was a before and an after, and the community recognized it. Today, many of these rites have weakened or disappeared. This leaves many people (especially young people) in a sort of permanent “limbo”: they are no longer children, but do not yet feel fully adults.
Here, tattooing can act as a contemporary ritual of self-affirmation. A young girl who gets a tattoo just after turning 18 puts it this way: “Now I am an adult and I decide what I do with my body.”
It can also mark ruptures and rebirths. A man who gets a tattoo after a separation because he no longer has to “ask permission”; or someone who, after a serious accident, gets a tattoo “Carpe Diem” as a physical reminder of a new philosophy of life. It’s not that tattooing cures trauma, but it can help give it shape: “This happened to me” and “I build my future from what I experienced.”
The “high”: ink, adrenaline and existential calm
An element that surprises when listening to the stories of tattooed people is the description of a “high”: the anticipation, the excitement, the adrenaline, the feeling of energy which peaks during the session and continues afterwards. Some explain it almost as a need. When you’ve felt it once, you want more. It is not always out of vanity, but for the emotional effect: to escape from problems, to cheer up in difficult times and to feel “more alive.”
In a world saturated with rapid stimuli, tattooing is an intense but different stimulus. It is not only consumable, it is transformative. The body comes out changed. And it provides a sense of control which, in times of uncertainty, can be valuable.
Aesthetics: behaving like a work (and like armor)
Many people get tattoos for a seemingly simpler reason: because they like it. But even in these cases, we distinguish several levels. Some tattooed people talk about the body as a coherent aesthetic project: pieces that “fit” together, colors considered and clothing chosen to highlight them. Some say tattoos make them feel “dressed” or “protected,” as if the skin were symbolic armor.
Others choose “pretty” patterns (flowers, animals and various shapes), but then add a function to them: to motivate themselves, to remember essential things and to strengthen their state of mind. There are also very strong identity aesthetics, such as the Gothic style (crosses, skulls and dark roses), which do not just decorate. They affirm a way of being in the world, a particular relationship with death, mystery or “the beyond”.
Pain: “If it costs nothing, it’s worth nothing”
Finally, the big topic: pain. One might think that, in a society that avoids suffering, tattooing would be an anomaly. But this is precisely where it gets interesting: many people attribute symbolic value to pain. As a form of voluntary sacrifice, a necessary cost that gives value to the experience. “If it didn’t hurt, it wouldn’t make sense.”some say. “The more expensive things are, the more valuable they are.”
Pain transforms tattooing into an experience and not just a result. It makes its meaning not only visual, but also corporeal, because the very process of realization, which includes pain and intensity, remains associated with what it represents.
An imperfect (but understandable) response to the need for meaning
We get tattoos for several reasons at the same time: identity, belonging, ritual, aesthetics, emotion, pain… and often, for a combination of all of these. In a complex and changing society, tattooing can function as an “existential calmant”: it gives a feeling of order, control and continuity. It does not replace strong philosophies or communities, but it can serve as a support, a reminder, and a personal beacon.
And perhaps this is the central idea: tattooing is not just a fashion. It is an attempt – sometimes playful, sometimes desperate, sometimes profound – to say, “This matters,” “this sustains me,” and “I want this to last.”
