Are You Guilty of ‘Tatcalling’?

Tattoos can be a good conversation starter, but don’t be the dude who offers to lick them off.
Collage of a woman's flexed arm with tattoos including one that reads leave me alone
Photo Illustration by Alicia Tatone

As late June approaches, women across the globe shed layers and collectively brace themselves for the inevitable uptick in attention that newly-shorn legmeat attracts. It doesn’t even matter that, in many areas, less clothing isn’t so much a fashion choice as it is a survival tactic in oppressive heat. The fact is: as clothes get skimpier, catcalls increase. For women with visible tattoos, especially, their designs signal an obvious holler point, leading to the annual spike in “tatcalling.”

By now, hopefully, most dudes know that catcalling, in all its forms, sucks. People don’t love to get yelled at, as a rule. Yet the behavior persists. “Tatcalling is the worst,” 32-year-old print-making business owner Susannah says. “We hear it all the time.” Even good-intentioned yells are almost certainly unwanted.

I’ve got more than 20 tattoos. My very first—a treble clef with a backwards tail I got at 18 on my right wrist—continues to serve as my creep filter. If he makes a hackneyed comment like, “You like music?” or just reaches out to touch me without invitation, it’s gonna be a no from me, dawg. If there’s a less original convo starter than something as broad as music (which… who does not like music?), it’s a visible tattoo. Even worse, laying hands on a stranger isn’t flirty—it’s frightening.

“I don’t care if you’ve known me for 100 seconds or 100 years,” Susannah says. “Unless I verbally consent to or invite you to touch me, don’t.”

“I think I hate ‘nice ink’ from strange men the most,” Haley, a 33-year-old podcaster and writer in Waco, Texas, says. Of course, tattoos can work as good convo starters—at an inside-voice decibel. As Haley says, there’s a “huge difference between ‘Nice ink!’ and, ‘Hey, I really like your tattoo. Did you get it here in town?’ One sounds more like a comment on my physical attractiveness due to the tattoo, the other sounds like genuine interest in a tattoo as art and therefore a more welcome conversation.”

Long-antiquated tattoo connotations can hurt, too. “One of the most obnoxious things about having visible tattoos is that people still think this translates into being a ‘bad girl’ and that I want to be berated or annoyed or hit on or hear inappropriate shit,” Susannah, who is in a monogamous marriage, says. It’s 2019 folks—everyone and their mom has a tattoo these days, and you wouldn’t want anyone to say weird stuff to your mom, now would you?

Of course, some people choose to go under the gun specifically as a way to open themselves to new connections and are typically game to talk about them.

Atlanta tattoo artist Kandace Layne says she loves when people ask about the Naomi Campbell portrait on her arm. “It gives me the opportunity to talk about someone I see as a positive role model for black women, or just women of color in general,” she says. “She was a supermodel at a time where they didn't even have makeup in her shade.’ From there, it’s easy to get a read not only on Layne herself, but whoever first noticed Naomi’s smize on Layne’s skin.

30-year-old Andrea in Austin, Texas, admits to using one piece in particular to help dudes out on Tinder. “I do have a King of the Hill tattoo that I like to mention in online dating profiles, because it is a great conversation starter,” she says. Though this can backfire. “Once a dude messaged me on OKCupid and I noticed his profile mentioned he didn't want to date a woman with tattoos,” Andrea says. “When I messaged back and said that I had them, he replied with, ‘Don't worry, I'm sure I can lick them off.’”

For every guy like the one Andrea met online, there’s at least one who consider tattoos a desirable amenity of potential mates. Ever heard of stigmatophilia? That’s a fetish for tattooed flesh, and not especially a niche one, considering the fact that Pornhub saw its “tattooed women” category balloon by 88 percent from 2017 to 2018.

I dated a guy who once admitted picking his left arm for an avant-garde John Cage-inspired tattoo since it was his go-to leaning-on-the-bar arm, making it an easy opportunity for hot folks to theoretically approach him. Kayleen Scott, a 28-year-old artist and model also pursued her many tattoos as a way to stand out. “I used to be painfully introverted and shy as a kid,” she says. “I always wanted to be different but couldn’t show it.” The first few tattoos felt like rejecting her past, Scott says. She didn’t plan to keep getting them, even though that’s what happened. Now Scott leverages her tattoos to land more modeling gigs. “I’m only 5’7”, pretty average, but now I get cast as a ‘hipster’ for ads,” she says.

But even the biggest attention seeker occasionally craves invisibility. Layne says sometimes she opts for full-coverage clothing just to avoid attention. “My legs are almost completely full, so it's hard for me to go anywhere with my tattoos showing because people stop me all day,” she says. “I expect it to the point where I mostly just wear pants; I might even wear long sleeves in the summer sometimes. I don't really feel like talking about my tattoos all the time.”

That being said, tattoos can great fodder to in regards to kickstarting a conversation. Here’s a few nuances to keep in mind when doing so.

First and foremost, consider how likely is it that this person wants to be approached, given the environment and any (possibly human) accessories they have in tow. Haley, who is also very married, put it this way: “I have at least three kids climbing on me at all times while chasing a fourth. Your Rumi quote or whatever isn’t my first priority in the fucking grocery store. I am here to buy diapers.” If you’re not in a bar, at a concert, or some other place where people are there explicitly to mingle, maybe keep your comments to yourself.

As previously mentioned, showing genuine interest in the art and the artist is usually a good place to start. “It’s totally cool to ask where I’ve gotten my tattoos from,” says Krystal, a 30-something tarot reader. Chances are they love their artist and are happy to trumpet their artists’ services. “I love helping out the homies with a little extra business.”

If a tattoo looks like it was meant to live beneath clothing at most times—even if you manage to sneak a couple peeks in a public place—assume it’s barred fodder. You’re definitely going to set off her creep alarms if you point out a tattoo that’s barely peeking out.

Also remember that meanings can be deeply personal. Until Layne covered the stick-and-poke on my thigh a couple years ago, every day I wore a design from my rapist. So, no matter how well-intended any gentleman were to comment on it, the conversation would immediately sour. Similarly, a lot of people rock memorials for lost loved ones on their body. Don’t ruin the interaction before it even starts by prying about any work’s meaning. As my therapist always says, “If you can’t handle all possible answers, don’t ask.”

Plenty of folks get tattoos for exactly one person: themselves. “I feel like getting tattoos these days is more like a beautification process for women,” Layne says. “Like, the same way we like to get our nails and hair done. Getting tattooed gives me the same feeling.”

That doesn’t mean you can’t point out great craftsmanship, but you aren’t entitled to know right away why it happened. Additionally, a 2012 U.K. survey found about one-third of people with tattoos regret at least one of them. Schadenfreude is not super sexy segue into a romantic relationship or even just a fun makeout.

Even though it may feel like a well-intended compliment is totally benign, remember it isn’t always so simple. You’re still talking to a woman you don’t know about her body.