A friend of mine recently expressed interest in finally taking the plunge and rebelling in the utmost conformist way. Yes, she wants to get her first tattoo. Cool. Go for it. They’re awesome. Well, most of them.

We were discussing what she was going to get, when the time comes. You’ve got to have an idea or design when you go in, or you end up with gawker’s cramp in your neck looking at all the crap on the walls to choose from. That, or you flip through the artist’s portfolio and freak out at the things one can turn their nipple and/or penis into with the help of a little ink and imagination. So rather than rack brains about what to get, the easier solution at this point is to scratch off what NOT to get. Let’s go over those, shall we?

Well, we’ve already covered the pre-made permanent stamps. Try to avoid those, because remember, this is your body and this is forever. You should have a little shred of creativity here. Also, it’s pretty embarrassing to be out throwing a few back at Bigfoot Lodge and see some jerk-a-ninny at the end of the bar with the same tat down his forearm. Now you and he are the same.

Let’s start with the ladies. Please, please, please, for the love of all that is holy and unearthly, stop it with the butterfly on the ankle, the tribal design on the lower back, or the heart with the dagger on the boob. WE GET IT. It’s the timeline of your life, right? First you come out of your cocoon and blossom into a woman, and then you get a little wild in college and get branded on a girl’s night out. Finally, you get screwed over by some guy you met who was just as free as you were, but failed to change as you had envisioned. Is that about right? I’m all for the baby names, or hand prints, but the baby face scares the heebie-jeebies out of me. It’s like it couldn’t find the birth canal and decided your shoulder blade was a nice place to exit.

Men. What can I say here? Now, I’m addressing the bed head slacker, the cool guy, the PS3-PO dark apartment dweller, and anyone EMOlicious. Those guys who ride bikes and can break me in two, get whatever you want. To all others, let’s start by saying what is cool now will brand you a dork forever. For example, getting “McLovin” on your chest is funny at those first few cocktail parties, but when the keg is dust, so is the novelty. Unfortunately, you can’t just refuse to wear this anymore like a Color Me Badd shirt. No cartoon characters. Period. Yes, it can be funny making Ned Flanders’ mustache disappear, but see the point above. No skulls and Satan to make you look hard. Just because you own Lou on Guitar Hero III doesn’t mean you’re a badass. Quite the opposite, really. Lastly, never, ever utter the words, “I’ll just get a barbed wire band” at an ink saloon. I think they’re allowed to take you out back and beat you. With real barbed wire.

For both sexes, unless you are actually Asian, let’s stay away from the Chinese, Japanese, and Korean characters. Because you enjoy sashimi and panda bears doesn’t mean you have a special connection to the Far East. Just appreciate their video games and animation and leave it at that.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, it’s time for my friend to mark her flesh. Mark it with passion, mark it with purpose, mark it with a pen first to make sure it looks good. If not, screw it. Pierce something.

Photo by Cody Fogh/LAist