Harry Styles, One Direction’s resident cherub, has finally realized the true meaning of a tattoo. You see, it isn’t all fun, games and Spiderman appliques; real tattoos are permanent, which seems to be the part that flew right over Harry’s curly hair. Somewhere along the line, though, the light bulb switched on and he realized that, wait, these don’t come off in the shower or accidentally in the sprinklers? Oh crap.
According to Sugarscape, Harry mentions in an interview with We Love Pop magazine his deep regret of the tattoos that we’ve already been regretting for him for a while now.
“I regret this one on my wrist here [pointing to that little padlock thingamajig The Ginger One scribbled]. I regret this. I mean, these are just crap. There are some that my friends have done and some that are just awful.”
It’s a shame that Harry doesn’t enjoy the 40+ random scribbles that he’s invested hundreds of dollars into. Who could’ve even seen this coming? Oh, literally every person ever, you say? Hm, follies of unbridled youth, I guess.
This confession just makes me feel like his older sister who can’t help but say, “I told you so. Also, take out the trash, loser,” before giving him a noogie. I sent him so many brain waves that told him to slow his roll and stop getting so many tattoos. But he just couldn’t help himself and had to go ahead and engage in a Teen Pop Star Tattoo battle royale, which he didn’t even win! Now, all he’s left with is an epidermis similar to an NYC subway car in the ’80s and lots and lots of shame. I’m getting this strange “wasn’t worth it” vibe, what about you? Are you feeling it?
I guess the upside of this is that he has the option to get them removed if he starts to feel an unnatural level of hatred toward them. A good clue of when it is getting out of hand is if he ever casually mentions in conversation that he’d rather claw his skin off than have to look at the ink anymore. That’s when I’d recommend gathering his closest family and friends (Taylor Swift, you’re not invited) to find the best laser specialist in his area who’s willing to commit a lot of time to undoing Harry’s bad choices.
And, if he doesn’t want to go through the miserable process of laser removal, he can always cover them with bigger and, hopefully, less regrettable tattoos. He could start with the weird butterfly on his ribcage and cover it with a majestic bald eagle, immediately securing his spot as an honorary American citizen. Isn’t that what all little English boys dream about at night after their mums blow out their oil lamps?
The best of my unwarranted suggestions is that we all just agree to not let our unlicensed and probably inexperienced friends inject us with permanent ink. I think that’s a pretty decent idea. And, while we’re at it, why don’t we just make it a law for everyone to bring their most annoying family member with them every time they get a tattoo? That way, if you still want to go through with it after hearing them spend an hour telling you that you’ll hate it when you’re 65, you know there’s no way in the world you’ll regret it later.