Rachel Ashenden, arts journalist

After my tenth tattoo, I gave up on the need to justify the ink on my skin with deep symbolic significance. This cowboy cat, complete with chaps and a silly little whip, is my 11th. But now that I’m thinking about it, it might represent my maturing attitude towards my body; that it is mine to decorate and embellish however I see fit, and I’m not looking for permission anymore.

Abi Salvesen, graphic designer/illustrator

I think of my tattoos as an art collection, and my favourite thing about them isn’t any one in isolation but the mishmash of different styles tapestried together into one big skinsuit. I describe them as consistently inconsistent; they’re random souvenirs from past stages of life, people I’ve met and places I’ve been. But, if you forced me to pick a favourite, I’d choose the calligraphic pieces that wrap around my shoulder blades. They just fit so perfectly in that spot. They were done by Jack Landless at Dagren Tattoo in Dunfermline.

Vic Galloway, broadcaster/author/journalist/actor/musician

My old pal King Creosote kindly reminds me that I used to hate tattoos. He had one done (a banjo, no less) in the mid-1990s and apparently I sneered at him for it. A few years later, however, I went under the gun myself and was inked at Hanky Panky in Amsterdam. Allegedly, Slipknot had been in the day before, which made me chuckle. A rather painful back piece was then chiselled, oozing blood and plasma. My long-suffering brother had to sheepishly wipe it down that night. I swore it would remain my only tattoo. Yet 26 years later, most of my upper body is now covered. As many others will attest, tattoos become something of an addiction, with symmetry a crucial factor. It still hurts every time though. The most personal is my chest piece: a gaudy, garish and gory Sacred Heart which is dedicated to my dearly departed mother, a devout Catholic who loved religious iconography. She wouldn’t thank me for it, however. She hated tattoos…

Amelia Bayler, comedian/podcaster

I love getting tattoos. I love the buzz from the anticipation beforehand and the buzz during and afterwards. It’s no coincidence that the amount of tattoos I got increased rapidly once I got sober. My only escapism now is tattoos (plus crisps and binge-watching TV dramas). Some favourite tats of mine include matching ones on my thighs (one that says ‘crisps’ inside a love heart and a matching one that says ‘dips’) and a simple one on my upper arm that says ‘hot bitch.’ My fave ever is definitely a tiger on my forearm by an amazing artist called Yussuf whose style is very traditional with thick black lines. I love how my tiger looks like it has places to be. He’s my inspiration.

Poppy Apter, theatre/film/TV casting assistant

It may not be the favourite of my ten tattoos, but the best tattoo story belongs to the Hello Kitty on the back of my neck. It was my first tattoo and a bold placement choice for a first-timer; having a tattoo gun aimed at the back of my head was certainly an experience. I got it during my first month of drama school when I was 19, matching with a girl I’d just met. We thought we’d become close friends, but it didn’t quite work out. Now she lives in America, and I’ll probably never see her again, but we’re forever bound by a fictional, anthropomorphised cat.

John Tamburrini, guitarist with Bottle Rockets

I’ve always liked the idea of being covered in tattoos, having my whole body as a canvas. Only my first ever tattoo was especially meaningful, just so my parents wouldn’t be too mad at me. From then on, I got what I thought was cool. A lot of the imagery is quite dark and gothic which is not really a reflection on my personality. It’s hard to have a favourite because it can always change but for the moment it’s probably the lady getting the necklace wrapped around her neck by the skeleton; it reminds me of something you’d see in a Tim Burton movie.