There is a long tradition of elaborate tattoos in all the islands of the southern Pacific, including New Zealand where I live. In the past, it was always women who did the tattoos which both represented all kinds of stories about their ancestry and beginnings and celebrated the power of women. Once Europeans arrived, these women were side-lined and tattoos became a male thing.
Tattooing is an art form here often using subtle colours and highly detailed original designs. My daughter has the most beautifully delicate spray of flowers on the back of her neck as well as a unique Celtic design on one arm to celebrate her Irish ancestry. She and her father also have the same design of two bees – their shared initials.
I do not have tattoos, partly because I am already old and wrinkly and partly because these sorts of tattoos take a long time to do – sometimes more than one session of several hours each. They also cost a lot of money. However, I am hugely impressed with the sheer beauty – no other word for it – of the tattoos that decorate the bodies of both my daughter and son-in-law, including one each from their holiday in Bali. No barbed wire, bright red hearts and tatty roses with a name banner beneath in this part of the world.