Nobody needs tattoo catalogs in tattoo salons anymore because anyone who wants to get a tattoo has a story that has left a mark on their hearts. In this new article, we have collected tattoos that tell a lot about their owners. And at the end of the article, there is a bonus showing that some people don’t really care what is on their bodies.
We at Bright Side are sure that tattoos are a kind of art and here are 24 examples of original and important pictures on the body that have an interesting story behind them.
An amazing 3D effect
This one is truly hypnotizing
2 hands in one
3rd degree burn scar covered by a phoenix
“The wife and I got tattoos of a diagram depicting the position of the planets as they were at the exact time we were married.”
“My girlfriend’s tattoo of her cat in a shark costume and her actual cat in a shark costume”
A simple explanation of entropy
“I proposed to my girlfriend with this tattoo, she said yes!”
When you treat any situation with humor:
“My mom’s tattoo of her mom’s birth and death date, and heartbeat into a signature. When she passes, I will get the same tattoo (relating to her of course) in her memory.”
“This is my dog and I.”
A tattoo artist from Brazil made a unique tattoo that literally opens when the arm opens.
“Tribute tattoo for my best friend who passed away”
“I found a way to incorporate a scar into something much more.”
“I got this tattoo after my heart transplant.”
Honeybees for a pair of married beekeepers
“My dad passed away 7 years ago, he got this tattoo when he turned 18, and when I turned 18, I got it too.”
“My favorite scene from Spirited Away”
“About a month ago, I lost a friend in a climbing accident. This is my reminder of him as well as a reminder to myself to climb safe.”
“Got my first tattoo done yesterday.”
“After her son passed away, this awesome lady got the image and writing from a card he’d written for her tattooed on her forearm.”
“Moved from Sydney to Ireland when I was 10. I’m 20 now and here’s my first tattoo.”
“Shortly after my mother’s death in Nov 2013, I found a notebook where she had written a random note to my sisters and I that we had never received. This was part of it and I decided to get a tattoo of it.”
Bonus: Her tattoo says “fresh spring rolls” in Thai.
Which tattoo amazed you the most? Do you or any of your relatives have any important tattoos on your body? Tell us in the comment section below.
My 81-year-old grandma started posting selfies on Instagram with heavy filters.
The notification popped up on my phone, another Instagram post from Grandma Rose. I sighed, tapping on the icon. There she was, her face smoothed and airbrushed beyond recognition, a pair of oversized, cartoonish sunglasses perched on her nose. A cascade of digital sparkles rained down around her. The caption read, “Feeling my vibe! #OOTD #YOLO #GrandmaGoals.”
My stomach churned. At first, it had been a novelty, a quirky, endearing quirk of my 81-year-old grandmother. But now, weeks into her social media blitz, it was bordering on unbearable.
It had started innocently enough. She’d asked me to help her set up an Instagram account, intrigued by the photos I’d shown her of my travels and friends. I’d thought it was a sweet way for her to stay connected with the family, a digital scrapbook of sorts.
But Grandma Rose had taken to Instagram like a fish to water, or rather, like a teenager to a viral trend. She’d discovered the world of filters, the power of hashtags, and the allure of online validation. Suddenly, she was posting multiple times a day, each photo more heavily filtered than the last.
The captions were a whole other level of cringe. She’d pepper them with slang I barely understood, phrases like “slay,” “lit,” and “no cap.” She’d even started using emojis, a barrage of hearts, stars, and laughing faces that seemed to clash with her gentle, grandmotherly image.
The pinnacle of my mortification came when she asked me, with wide, earnest eyes, how to do a “get ready with me” video. “You know, darling,” she’d said, her voice brimming with excitement, “like those lovely young ladies on the internet. I want to show everyone my makeup routine!”
I’d choked on my coffee. My makeup routine consisted of moisturizer and a swipe of mascara. Grandma Rose’s “makeup routine” involved a dusting of powder and a dab of lipstick.
The worst part was, my entire family was egging her on. They’d shower her with likes and comments, calling her “amazing,” “inspiring,” and “a social media queen.” They were completely oblivious to my growing dread.
I was trapped in a vortex of secondhand embarrassment. What if my friends saw these posts? What if my coworkers stumbled upon her profile? I could already imagine the whispers, the snickers, the awkward attempts at polite conversation.
I found myself avoiding family gatherings, dreading the inevitable discussions about Grandma Rose’s latest post. I’d scroll through my feed, wincing at each new notification, my finger hovering over the “unfollow” button, a button I couldn’t bring myself to press.
One evening, I found myself sitting across from my mom, the glow of her phone illuminating her face as she scrolled through Grandma Rose’s profile. “Isn’t she just the cutest?” she gushed, showing me a photo of Grandma Rose with a digital halo and angel wings.
“Mom,” I said, my voice strained, “don’t you think this is… a little much?”
My mom looked at me, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? She’s having fun. She’s expressing herself.”
“But it’s not her,” I argued. “It’s like she’s trying to be someone else.”
“She’s adapting, darling,” my mom said, her voice gentle. “She’s embracing technology. She’s living her best life.”
I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument. My family, in their well-meaning attempt to support Grandma Rose, were completely blind to the awkwardness of the situation.
I decided to try a different approach. The next time Grandma Rose asked me for help with her Instagram, I sat down with her and gently explained the concept of “authenticity.” I showed her photos of herself, unfiltered and unedited, her smile genuine, her eyes sparkling with wisdom.
“You’re beautiful just the way you are, Grandma,” I said, my voice sincere. “You don’t need filters or slang to be amazing.”
She looked at the photos, her eyes softening. “Do you really think so, darling?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Absolutely,” I said, squeezing her hand.
Grandma Rose didn’t stop posting, but she did tone it down. The filters became less intense, the captions more genuine. She even started sharing stories from her life, anecdotes that were both heartwarming and hilarious.
And slowly, I began to appreciate her online presence. I realized that it wasn’t about trying to be an influencer; it was about Grandma Rose finding her own way to connect with the world, to express her joy, to simply be herself. And in the end, that was more than enough.
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