It seemed like a good idea at the time. When Tasha Bowens, a 26-year-old political activist from Florida, went to get a tattoo she chose a butterfly, thinking she would never regret such an innocuous design. But when the tattoo began to fade in the sun, she came to rue her youthful lapse of judgment.

"Since I didn't take care of it, it kind of faded," she said. "I was young and stupid, and I wasn't protecting it from the sun."

America is full of men and women who made the fateful decision to adorn their bodies with tattoos. Some come to accept them as part of their identity, but hundreds of thousands wish they could remove them.

In a move that reflects the growing trend for tattoo removal, a small California company hopes to establish a nationwide network of laser clinics.

Executives with Dr Tattoff, Inc aim to expand across the country from three clinics in southern California, as twentysomethings reared with television images of inked rockers and Hollywood stars realise the barbed wire bands around their wrists and gothic lettering on their necks are not as well suited to the corporate conference room as to the university dorm.

"Tattoos are becoming more common in the workplace and in society," chief executive John Keefe told the Los Angeles Times. "My suspicion is that along with that, the tattoo regret factor will only grow as people get older."

While laser tattoo removal has been around for a decade, Dr Tattoff executives hope the company will be the first to build a franchise and marketing brand around the procedure and plan one day to take the company public.

The market is huge. Fourteen percent of Americans sport a tattoo, rising to a third among Americans ages 25 to 29, according to a survey last year by the Harris Poll. Sixteen percent of those regret them, leaving nearly 7 million potential laser removal customers. And it's not just average Joes who wish they had never set foot inside a tattoo parlour. Rapper Andre Benjamin of OutKast said: "I had six silly tattoos done when I was young and I bitterly regret them. I've thought about laser surgery, but that leaves a scar, so I'm just leaving them."

Removal costs five to 10 times as much as the tattoo, about $750 to $1,500 spread across several sessions. The procedure entails blasting the ink particles with a laser and can cause significant pain (one Dr Tattoff patient said the procedure was worse than having his "crotch" tattooed). Multicoloured pieces are the hardest to remove, and scarring can remain.

In addition to those seeking a more grown-up appearance, patients show up at Dr Tattoff clinics after breaking up with lovers whose names they short-sightedly inked to their bodies, and others want to clear the canvas for new artwork. And as with shoes and clothing, tattoo styles go out of fashion. In the US, celtic arm bands and tattoos on women's lower backs have come and gone. Or not gone.

California make-up artist Pixie Acia had Dr Tattoff dermatologist Will Kirby remove a montage of a woman and child from her shoulder to clear the "prime real estate" for another piece with more personal meaning.

About twice a week the clinic treats youngsters hauled in by angry parents. The company says 85% of patients are women ages 18 to 44.

First person: 'I don't believe in getting tattoos removed. They are a bit like scars - you've got to live with them'

I've a got this horrible lyric tattooed to my left inside ankle from a band I was in when I was 18. Every time I look at it I think: "How did you ever make a living from words when you wrote such pompous self-indulgent shit?" It's in my handwriting. I can't believe how shoddy it was - it looks like an illiterate monkey did it.

I will quite often being lying in the bath reading and then I'll look down at my ankle and be furious. I'll look at my leg and think, "You were such a dreamer when you were 18". I'm too embarrassed to say what it says. There's a little line in it about "believing in angels".

I've also got a Doncaster Rovers tattoo and there are times when I've been so angry with the team that I've wanted to scrub it off my leg.

I was always thought my Dad's tattoos looked cool, even though he regrets them because he's not in the Navy any more. My Mum and Dad went mental when they noticed I'd got them.

I got my last one two years ago - it was the logo of the band Black Flag. I got it on expenses because I wrote about it for the paper.

I don't believe in getting tattoos removed. They are a bit like scars - you've got to live with them. They are a daily reminder of a point in your life when you were an idiot.

James McMahon is features editor of the NME