Another danger was that you could be unlucky enough to visit a dyslexic tattooist and have to take your blank arm elsewhere to get your girlfriend's name spelt correctly, in which case you would be doomed to a life of wearing shirts with one short sleeve and one long sleeve. Once tattoo parlours were forced to smarten up their act they became barely distinguishable from dentist's surgeries. Previously the exclusive preserve of manual labourers, sailors and Hell's Angels, the tattoo suddenly became a fashion item and found a new and much more lucrative middle-class market. The problem with tattoos is that what is appropriate today may not be appropriate tomorrow. Vera may have packed her bags long ago and all you're left with is the painful reminder every time you take a shower.
Tattoos also have a limited shelf life.
Dead that is, not grateful. I'll wager that you haven't dared have a full medical check-up for at least thirty years. The other problem is the choice of body part. I knew a girl who had a swallow tattooed on her navel when she was twenty. After her first child it looked more like a peregrine falcon and now, after three children, it probably looks like a giant eagle owl.