There's always something

One of my boasts about my adopted home town is that there is always something happening; carnivals, festivals, London to Brighton something or other (yesterday was the L to B cycle ride with 28,000 cyclists descending on the city), hen or stag parties, party political conferences - indeed, conferences and conventions of all sorts.  But I have only just learned of one convention that has been held annually in the city for some few years now.

For the past 200 years or so, Brighton has had something of a reputation, a reputation for being all sorts of things: edgy, kinky, rough.  The phrase "dirty weekend"  has become almost synonymous with "Brighton".  Somehow things like kiss-me-quick hats seem to have passed the town by - they are more Blackpool or Southend than Brighton - although we do have our share of seedy guest houses.  And the mix of clothing styles never ever causes raised eyebrows.  An elderly man dressed as a pirate, complete with parrot on his shoulder, riding a skateboard through the town centre is considered an every-day type of thing and nobody bats an eyelid.  But I had never suspected something like this.

I have never had a yen to cover myself in body art.  Not for me an anchor on my forearm or "Mum" entwined in roses on my bicep, far less a hunt in full cry down my back with the fox disappearing . . .  Well, you know where.

What I heard of is the annual Brighton Tattoo Convention.

And here's another:

I'm not sure which picture makes me shudder the more.  (Both of them have been borrowed.)