Meeting of the Secret Society

Last year my older sister and I got matching tattoos at Fat Ram’s Pumpkin Tattoo here in Jamaica Plain. Then my younger sister came to visit and she got one too. I wish I could say that I endured the experience with complete stoicism. I certainly meant to. But instead I screwed up my face, clenched my fists and mewed like a kitten throughout the whole thing. It was pretty embarrassing.

When I got together with my two sisters in the UK last week, it was the first time we saw all the tattoos together. Some people think they look like balloons but actually they are evil eye beads. When we were little we lived in Turkey for a while and evil eye beads were everywhere. The whole of our childhoods, one hung from the rear view mirror in our car and on long rides we would watch it sway to and fro, half hypnotized by the steady movement.

Evil eye beads are said to protect you against harm.

Far more importantly, I think they look great. They make me feel like part of a Secret Society. Which of course – like everyone blessed with wonderful siblings – I am.