Tattoo artist Shigyoku Bonten at work

`Most young people come because they want to imitate something. They want to show off their identity, even though they may not know what that identity is.'

SHIGYOKU BONTEN, Tattoo artist

She's a one-time punk rocker and her present job involves inflicting pain. But for all that Shigyoku Bonten carries a cheery message inscribed under her skin. Some are ``Born to be Wild,'' some ``Born to Kill,'' and others still ``Born to Lose,'' but Shigyoku's tattoo on her right shoulder proclaims ``I am Happy to be Born.''

``It's a message to my mother,'' explains Shigyoku in a husky voice that seems older than her 33 years. ``I wanted to say thank you for bringing me into this beautiful place.''

Her girl-next-door looks seem mismatched with her workplace-a tatami floor apartment crammed with trays of needles, ink and antiseptics. Posters of tattooed men averting their faces hang from the walls; beneath lie a stack of albums filled with photos of more tattoos-a record of Shigyoku's work from the past seven years.

Female horishi like Shigyoku used to be rare, but not anymore in Japan's increasingly mainstream world of epidermic art. Back in the day, tattoo studios were rare and served mostly yakuza, for whom tattoos-the very traditional type that covers huge swatches of the body- were an indelible uniform under their flashy suits.

Nowadays studios can be found in fashion hot spots such as Aoyama and Harajuku, serving up tattoos-often Western-style, sometimes along with manicures and facials-to a young clientele looking for high-visibility fashion statements.

Shigyoku is a pen name, as it were, for the traditionally trained tattooist. Her purposely retro-looking studio, in the Nogata area of Tokyo's Nakano Ward, draws clients from both camps. The gangsters come for regular work on their full-body ``suits.'' The fashionistas-about half of whom are women-come looking for small ``one-point'' pieces that can be done in an hour or two.

``Tattoos mean different things to different people,'' says Shigyoku. ``For yakuza, tattoos are a sign of their full commitment to their way of life. It says to people around them, `I'm not going back.''' It is, she adds, also a symbol of grit: Edo Period (1603-1867) firemen endured the pain of tattooing (back then with bamboo needles) to show that they could stand the heat of a burning house as well.

``Most young people come because they want to imitate something,'' continues Shigyoku. ``They want to show off their identity, even though they may not know what that identity is.''

For the typical late-teen, 20-something male tattoo seeker, that usually means imported culture. They come in with pictures of tattoos worn by NBA stars, or want words written across their abdomens, like hip-hoppers and Los Angeles gang members. The number one choice for portraits, she says, is Bob Marley.

Women on the other hand prefer prettier things-flowers, angels, butterflies or pictures of their pets. But often for young clients, what starts with fashion has deeper motives as well.

Eri Sakakibara (not her real name), a patron at Shigyoku's, says she got her tattoo there not just for looks, but for good fortune.

``I've been used and abused by a lot of guys,'' says the 23-year-old. ``I thought a tattoo might change my luck. I got a phoenix on my back because I was born in the Year of the Rooster. I've also got a dragon in a place that most people can't see. It's under my skin; it's part of me, and I'm hoping it'll give me some of its strength.''

Still, Eri has yet to work up enough courage to show her tattoos to her parents, from whom she's kept them hidden for six years now-a difficult feat since she lives with them.

``I don't feel I'm underground or anything like that,'' says Eri. ``Maybe someday tattoos will be accepted enough so I can show mine to my parents, but now isn't the time to tell them. I've had tattoos for years now and have never regretted getting them. I just hope my parents can be comfortable with that.''

For Miho Tanishige, on the other hand, the tattoo inspiration comes directly from her father, a tattooed man living in southern Kyushu she last saw when she was a child.

``He had no job, he had no money but he had lots of girlfriends,'' says Tanishige, who left Hiroshima for Tokyo five years ago and now works as a hostess in the posh Ginza area. ``He also had a temper-he used to beat my mother and my sisters. So I guess from an early age I always equated tattoos with violence''-the precise reason why she decided to get her first tattoo.

Hoping to be a singer, she had an image of the goddess Benzaiten, the patroness of music, drawn on her back. She later had dragons on her thighs and around her arm.

``My mother cried the first she saw them, because she saw me becoming like my father,'' says Tanishige. ``But what I wanted to do was hurt my father. I wanted to defile his daughter's skin in imitation of him.''

But what started with rage became a passion, as she was mesmerized by the beauty under her skin. Eventually she gave up her idea of revenge-to show off her tattoos to her father's new family-and moved to Tokyo.

``So no, it's not just a mark of beauty or fashion for me, but a mark of gallantry.''

Tanishige may be a rare case, but a large number of women seeking tattoos do bring issues with them, says tattooist Shigyoku.

``These days young people are troubled. They don't really know what they want,'' says Shigyoku. ``For them, tattoos are ultimately a form of self-mutilation. Others come looking for an escape-they come with cut marks on theirs arms and wrists and want to get tattoos to stop them cutting themselves.'' Such customers, she adds, can bring real headaches: They change their minds about what tattoos they want, or come back asking her to erase her artwork. Sometimes their parents call, irate at the artist for their children's decision.

``I explain that we're not allowed to tattoo anyone under 18. Anyone above that is an adult who comes here by choice.

``I also remind women that their tattoos might be seen when they put on a wedding dress. It's something they never thought about, and some change their minds.''

Such problems are one reason why, says Shigyoku, she's focused her business back to the traditional customer base: yakuza.

``It can get tense-you don't want to make a mistake with them or they'll try to exhort money from you. But at least they know what they want. They don't change their minds; they know that tattoos are permanent.'' Dirty needles can kill The Asahi Shimbun

The current popularity of so-called ``American'' one-point tattoos among Japanese young people is generating a serious side effect-infection through contaminated needles.

Doctors have reported that some young people have contracted hepatitis C, apparently after getting tattoos from ``artists'' using unsterilized equipment.

According to the health ministry, only licensed doctors are permitted to practice tattooing, but the government expends virtually no effort in tracking down and regulating tattoo artists.

A 33-year-old office worker got her first tattoo, a tiny butterfly on the waist, in Hawaii at age 24.

The procedure took 15 minutes and cost $50. She got her second tattoo, a flower on the ankle, at a Tokyo tattoo parlor.

``It's in fashion,'' she said. ``My eyebrows are also tattoos. It was such a hassle to use an eyebrow pencil in the morning.''

One tattoo fashion magazine features some 80 tattoo parlors, often dubbed ``studios.'' Most are in Tokyo and Osaka and often double as beauty parlors and aesthetic or nail salons.

One editor estimated there are some 1,000 tattoo artists, including those who apply cosmetic tattooing to enhance eyebrows, lips or eyes, in Japan.

A tattoo parlor operator in Tokyo said her clients are mostly women in their late 20s to 30s. ``They favor flowers, angels, butterflies as their tattoo motifs.''

The vast majority of tattooists at these parlors are working illegally because they are not licensed medical practitioners.

``These tattooists are aware that their practice is illegal,'' a health ministry official said. ``We're concerned about the situation and in November 2001, called on prefectural governments to step up their regulation of the parlors and bring charges against illegal tattooing. But so far, there have been no reports of any tattoo parlor being charged with breaking the law.''

Kazuaki Chayama, a professor at Hiroshima University Graduate School of Biomedical Science, reported last June at a meeting of liver specialists, on four young patients who contracted chronic hepatitis C, apparently after being infected by dirty tattoo needles.

In one case, a man in his 20s in Hiroshima Prefecture decided to get himself tested after learning one of his friends-who got a tattoo at the same parlor-came down with the disease, the professor said.

The young man told Chayama he never imagined he could contract a hepatitis via tattoo needles.

It takes more than 20 years for a patient with hepatitis C to develop cirrhosis of the liver or cancer, the professor said. But ``in many cases, patients with C in its early stage do not feel any symptoms, and it could be too late once you feel something wrong,'' Chayama said. Anyone with any doubt about the reliability of the parlor they patronized should get tested immediately, Chayama said.(IHT/Asahi: February 5,2005)