Away from prying eyes, Iranians getting tattoos

TEHRAN, Iran – It’s an undercover movement – literally: Tattoos have become a fad among many young Iranian women who proudly display them in private but must keep them under wraps from authorities.

“This is the tattoo generation,” said Milad, a 24-year-old artist who does body art as a sideline in his Tehran studio. He gave only his first name, fearing police retaliation.

“It’s the new sign of being hip.”

It’s a select, largely female clientele, mostly teens and 20-somethings in Tehran’s most affluent and style-savvy districts. But these have been the birthplaces for nearly every limit-testing trend since the strict dress codes of the Islamic Revolution began to erode in the late 1990s. It began with nose jobs then moved on to makeovers, body-hugging jackets, funky sneakers and head scarves that leave more hair exposed than covered.

As the Islamic coverings shrink, the next fashion frontier appears to be what’s underneath, and it’s catching on with men, too.

But officials don’t yet seem ready for tattoos and even block access to tattoo Web sites.

Maryam, who is 20, wears a fish-shaped tattoo on her shoulder and won’t give her full name. “We have so many secrets from the authorities that they know about but can’t stop: our parties, our music. This is just another one,” she said.

The tattoo wave is so new – and with such high chic appeal – that few people have paused to think much about the consequences of being marked for life, said Milad. The only real plan for the future is that some girls pick intimate spots that only a spouse would see.

“Most girls don’t want their future mother-in-law, for example, to see they have a tattoo,” said Milad.

His back-room tattoo parlor is one of dozens in Tehran, its lights wrapped in brown paper for mood. Clients rest on a low divan as he works, using ink and a needle-tipped pen. Professional tattoo equipment is nearly impossible to find.

He relies on word of mouth through places where the tattoo generation flocks: the house parties with Western music and dancing; the malls and fast-food spots in leafy north Tehran. Milad’s business card has only his name and cell phone number.

“This is an underground business,” said Milad, wearing baggy shorts and purple Converse high-tops. “I’m not too scared of the police anymore. But you still have to be careful.”

He gets a call for a job about once a week. For an average of 800,000 rials – about $90 – clients choose from Milad’s standard designs – interwoven flames called “Creeping Death,” a burning cross dubbed “Dragon Sword,” or, for the less daring, butterflies, flowers and unicorns.

But he’ll work up anything for an extra fee. He’s done marijuana leaves and symbols from Iran’s pre-Islamic Zoroastrian faith. A Muslim girl asked for some Hebrew letters – in a country whose leaders repeatedly call for Israel’s destruction.

“She didn’t even know what the letters meant,” said Milad. “She just liked how they looked.”

Placement also is getting more adventurous; Milad said more women are asking for tattoos on the small of their backs or on their breasts. “No big deal,” he shrugged.