To clear up some potential confusion about the Salt Palace Convention Center crowd this weekend, not everybody there sporting colorful body art, multiple flesh piercings and big plugs in their enlarged earlobes was going to the annual U.S. Youth Soccer Coaches gathering.

Most — OK, and perhaps all — inked individuals were actually attending the coinciding, second annual Salt Lake City International Tattoo Convention down the hall.

That's not to say a few soccer moms and pops in town for that other conference don't have a tattoo or two (maybe even of futbol great Tatu). The art form is no longer considered a taboo reserved for rebel types, sailors, bikers and sons who really adore their moms. The thousands of artists and diverse warm-blooded canvases expected to come to the convention from all backgrounds and from all over the world can attest to that fact.

"Everybody gets tattoos," said local artist Alex Hinton, who has decorative designs spread over his body, including on his face and the back of his neck and head. "It doesn't hit any boundaries. Cowboys, doctors, lawyers, rockers, moms, dads, grandmas. There's no limit. That's one of the best parts of this job. It's gone from the extreme to popular to mainstream. It's lost its shock value — that's a good thing."

Hinton made his comments just moments after giving a 63-year-old woman her first permanent skin portrait at one of the dozens of bustling booths inside the convention center Friday. It was one of the simplest tattoos he'll ever do. All Vearla Warner of Salt Lake City wanted was a cute, simple ladybug. And she was tickled with it being embedded into her right shoulder blade, even though not all of the red liquid under the protective plastic wrap was ink.

"It's not like I think I'm young. I know I'm not," she said when asked why she got a tattoo in her seventh decade. "I like artwork. I think it's fun."

She got the idea to become living art from her daughter, Stephani Warner, 41, who has a Celtic Green Man on her back, a Roman-era necklace "forc" around her neck and a broken chain on her arm "to help remind me not to do stupid things again." It's working. Now she said she just does new stupid things, though getting tattoos is not being among them in her opinion.

Vearla Warner knows some people might consider tattoos offensive, but she's not too worried about what most others think.

"I'm old enough now if someone doesn't like it, that's too bad," Warner said, adding that she's pretty certain at least one person won't approve. "My dad will probably freak out. He's 86." The yet-to-be-named ladybug will have to wait a while to be introduced to him, she laughed.