The most personal tattoo on my body is a shadow of Peter Pan and the second star to the right, surrounded by the text, To live will be an awfully big adventure. For this tattoo, I endured two hours under the needle, a painful but meaningful experience etched onto my lower back.
“Do you need a quick break?” the artist asked, sensing my discomfort. But stopping felt like losing momentum, risking a half-finished piece. “Keep going,” I insisted.
Later, when my editor noticed the new ink, I explained it was a tribute to my brother, who shared my love for Peter Pan and had recently passed. A comforting shoulder rub and nod were all the acknowledgment needed.
This tattoo, placed five years prior to the one on my left foot, often draws the most comments. Perhaps its location on my lower back, sometimes referred to as a “tramp stamp,” contributes to this attention.
All four of my tattoos are placed in areas that require deliberate exposure, a lift of a shirt or a slight lowering of jeans. The term “tramp stamp” felt like a reduction of the personal significance of my back tattoo.
When I revealed my tattoo, it wasn’t intended to be seductive. I hoped for understanding from friends and family, yet jokes still emerged:
“Pretty sexy, eh?”
“It’s nice … for a tramp stamp.”
“Is it weird that your tattoo turns me on?”
These comments often leave me speechless and uncomfortable. It turns out I’m not alone in this experience. Conversations with other women who have “Stamp Tattoos” revealed similar stories. Here’s what I learned:
1) The “Tramp Stamp” Trope is Rooted in a Bygone Fashion Era
The term “tramp stamp” gained traction in the late 1990s alongside the rise of low-rise jeans. These jeans, sitting low on the hips, often revealed lower back tattoos, leading to a perception of promiscuity and the derogatory label “tramp.”
For women who got lower back tattoos during this period, the visibility caused by fashion trends was often frustrating. Jennifer Block, author of Pushed: The Painful Truth About Childbirth and Modern Maternity Care, recalls getting a Celtic knot tattoo on her lower back during a trip to Ireland in 1998.
Alt text: Woman with a lower back tattoo visible above her jeans, illustrating the “tramp stamp” phenomenon.
“I spent hours researching Celtic knot imagery. I chose one made of four closed shapes, symbolizing the friendship and individuality of myself and three other women,” Block explains. “I chose my lower back to respect my Jewish family’s views, but low-rise jeans exposed it anyway.”
Gabriella Garcia had a similar experience in 2005, getting a pinup girl tattoo on her lower back. “High-waisted jeans weren’t the norm then, unless you were intentionally vintage,” she says. “Thrifting wasn’t as accessible in the early 2000s.”
“My lower back was chosen because I wanted a large tattoo that could be easily covered. I wasn’t aware of the ‘tramp stamp’ stigma; my lower back just seemed like the largest concealable area for a tattoo.”
It wasn’t until the movie Wedding Crashers (2005) that Garcia realized the negative connotation. In the film, a character jokes about lower back tattoos being a “target.” Garcia’s boyfriend at the time echoed this sentiment, leading her to stop wearing low-rise jeans altogether.
For those fearing a low-rise comeback, rest assured: high-rise jeans are still dominant. As Madeline Davies wrote in Jezebel in May 2015, low-rise jeans are “the most abusive thing to happen in fashion since the whale-bone corset.” Style blogs like WhoWhatWear.com confirm that high-rise jeans are here to stay, with rises reaching up to 11.5 inches.
Fashion trends have shifted, and so has the landscape of tattooing, with more women embracing ink than ever before.
2) Body Art as Ownership: Women Reclaiming the Canvas
For the first time in decades, women are more likely to have tattoos than men. A 2013 study revealed that 47 percent of women under 35 had tattoos, compared to 25 percent of men. This rise isn’t just about trends. Jenn Ashworth, in her Guardian essay “Painted Ladies: Why Women Get Tattoos,” argues, “If skin is a screen, and a woman writes on it, she is telling the world (or even just herself) that her own standards of attractiveness are more important than the standards of anyone else who might cross her path. She is taking ownership.”
Feminist perspectives see tattoos as a powerful statement against societal expectations of women’s bodies as pristine and unmarked. s.e. smith, in “On Ownership, Marking the Body, and Tattooing as a Feminist Act,” writes, “Women are generally taught that tattooing and piercing are not ladylike… Women, in other words, are not supposed to mark themselves, or to stake out their bodies as their own property.”
While men also face societal pressures regarding masculinity, the tattoo stigma isn’t comparable.
3) The Double Standard: No Male Equivalent to “Tramp Stamp”
A man’s arm tattoo is rarely judged as more sexual than one on his leg. In fact, there are few, if any, derogatory terms for men’s tattoos as pervasive as “tramp stamp.”
However, a man with a lower back tattoo is often seen as embracing a feminized ideal. In a How I Met Your Mother episode, Ted gets a butterfly lower back tattoo while drunk, which is immediately mocked by Barney, the show’s epitome of masculinity. Barney calls it a “tramp stamp,” “ho tag,” and “ass antlers,” highlighting the perceived absurdity of a man having such a tattoo.
This demonization of femininity is what makes the term “tramp stamp” so damaging. Julia Serano, in her Ms. magazine essay “Empowering Femininity,” explains, “Demeaning or dismissing people for expressing feminine qualities is often condoned and even encouraged… Much of the sexism faced by women today targets their femininity (or assumed femininity) rather than their femaleness. It is high time that we forcefully challenge the negative assumptions that constantly plague feminine traits and the people who express them.”
4) Beyond Sexuality: The Real Reasons Behind Stamp Tattoos
The curve of a woman’s lower back is sometimes sexualized, but this doesn’t mean lower back tattoos are intended to be overtly sexual.
Motivations for tattoos are deeply personal. Cynthia Shulak, like myself, chose a lower back tattoo as a memorial, in her case to both grandfathers. She was aware of the “tramp stamp” slur but ignored it until an ex-boyfriend sexualized her tattoo, despite knowing its significance.
“He started detailing defiling my back tattoo, even after I explained its importance,” Shulak recalls. “We broke up… but it’s stuck with me, making me uncomfortable at the beach or with new partners, wondering if they have similar thoughts.”
Sharon Haywood got a lower back tattoo fifteen years ago as part of healing from an assault. “The tattoo and its location are significant for me, so it’s frustrating to deal with men ‘joking’ about it being a ‘tramp stamp,’ as if I got it to attract them,” she says.
“Tattoos are not mere accessories but powerful symbols of body reclamation. My tattoos are part of my identity, my body, mine alone. Calling my lower back tattoo a tramp stamp is as offensive as commenting on my breasts – unsolicited, unwelcome, and sexist.”
5) Practical Choices: Privacy and Professionalism
My own decision to get a lower back tattoo was partly due to personal reservations. I worried about professional implications and societal norms.
I didn’t want to limit career opportunities in conservative settings. I wanted to wear sleeveless clothes without constant tattoo questions. And I considered the potential impact of pregnancy on tattoo placement.
“Choosing tattoo placement is complex,” says writer Joy Martin. “Women considering children also have to think about how pregnancy and childbirth might affect a tattoo’s appearance.”
I value the privacy of my lower back tattoo. I prefer to be recognized for my work, personality, and achievements, not for my body art. The idea of unwanted attention on something so personal makes me uncomfortable, leading to my choice, and the subsequent “tramp stamp” jokes.
Now, I realize I don’t always need to prioritize being “appropriate” or “demure.” Projecting confidence rather than embarrassment about a stereotype I didn’t create might not stop judgment, but it might make people reconsider before resorting to derogatory labels.
Allison McCarthy is a writer currently living in Maryland. Find more of her work at her website and on Twitter at @allison_writes.
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