My father had the letter "M" tattooed on his arm. The ink had run, and it was harder to make out, but it was an "M" all right.
My mother's name began with "N" but dad told me it stood for "mother". It was only later when credulity had shrunk and cynicism had grown that I learned that "M" was the initial of the fiancee he had had before he left for the war in Italy.
That taught me two things: nothing is forever, especially when young love is concerned; and tattoos look really ugly when they are older and the ink has run.
Imagine the pain of the Nelson father whose 16-year-old daughter had prominent tattoos inked on the backs of her hands. That decision would have limited her employment prospects and set her social standing in stone.
Potential boyfriends could well have been limited as well think about the difficulties faced by a young bloke taking her home to his parents for the first time. She might as well have had "Property of Hell's Angels" tattooed across her. Statements made by teenage minds ought to be written in pencil on paper, not inked into precious young skin.