ジャッキーの これ、どう思う？ While we're on the topic ...

Fake "sleeves" on Jackie's arms, designed by her friend. JACKIE HOFFART PHOTOS

When my sister and I were little, we weren't allowed to draw on our hands or arms — Dad forbade it. Even though our childish flowers and notes-to-self could never have been confused with the anchors or hearts typically associated with navy or prison tattoos, I think he felt it was "unbecoming" for "young ladies" like us.

His attitude toward body art strikes me as fairly typical for a man of his generation. Even though my dad was certainly influenced by '60s counterculture aesthetics (he collected Bob Dylan records), I think mainstream ideas about people with tattoos didn't shift with the politics of his day.

But they have shifted in mine, and quite dramatically. It seems to me like almost everyone I know is tattooed somewhere in some way. The trend for tattoos, especially "sleeves" (tattoos that cover some or all of the arm), has really taken off in Vancouver; there's hardly a coffee shop left in town where the barista isn't "inked."

I think tattoos can be really beautiful. I love the idea of using your skin as a canvas and literally marking out something meaningful and beautiful to cherish for the rest of your life. I think the problem with tattoos is, rather obviously, that they are permanent.

On a philosophical level, we enter into a contract with our bodies as a function of being born: They will be ours until we die. To decide to place some art on that vessel is brave indeed.

And so often foolish.

I have a tattoo. It's pretty big (about 15cm by 25cm), and I love-hate it. What I mean by that is that I love the story around it and the idea behind it, but I'm not that happy with the actual image and I regret not spending more time developing it before committing.

I think today's tattoo popularity started around 15 or 20 years ago, so by the time I was in my early 20s (about a decade ago), the idea of getting my own tatt seemed inevitable. I wasn't quite sure what I wanted, but I trusted that when the time was right, the "universe" would "reveal" my tattoo to me.

So when my mom gave me a call and said that for her 50th birthday she wanted to get a tattoo and asked if I knew any good places ... I figured it was a sign: This was my chance to get a tattoo! What more auspicious tattoo origin story could there be than taking the plunge with my mom?

My then girlfriend recommended a great tattoo parlor. I visited it and made sure it was safe and clean. I got along with the artist, too, so I set about figuring out the design.

Long story short: I rushed through this design process, in part because I wanted to actually "start" my tattoo at the same time as my mom, and partially because I didn't have the wherewithal to stand up for my own opinions regarding the design. And that's pretty dumb because it's ME that has to live with this forever.

The idea behind my tattoo is difficult to explain (which should have been a red flag), but basically it's a kind of tree/river that has Greek letters embedded/flowing in it. Depending on how you arrange them, the letters could spell out words: idea, meaning, sense, word, God or reason. ... I told you it was complicated.

Anyway, the experience of getting tattooed with Mom was pretty cool. But now, eight years later, I find myself thinking about ways to fix it or add to it to make it more interesting. I'm not in any rush to do that though — tattooing is quite expensive, and rushing was what got me into trouble in the first place. So, I defer back to the universe for the right time and place on that one.

Despite this mixed experience, I am tempted to get another tattoo on another part of my body. I don't think I could ever commit to a sleeve, but lately I find myself experimenting with pens and markers on my arm. In fact, I have handed my arm over to a friend in class and asked her to make a design.

It's been really fun to experience what it might be like to have a tattoo there, but without the commitment because they wash away in the shower. And even though I'm pretty sure my dad would still frown on such a choice, I think my inner child just really enjoys the daydreamy quality of doodling on my arm.

(Note) My mom got a turtle, her favorite animal, tattooed on her ankle. She loves it to this day.

Next time: My topic is .... readers' letters