
Tattoos ink their way into the mainstream
LAKE STATION, Ind. Families are flooding into
a quaint tattoo studio here on a crisp fall day.
Mothers and teenage daughters. Dads and young
sons. Granddaughters and grandmothers.
Pearl Scott, a 72-year-old grandmother in white
tennis shoes, is standing at the front desk scanning
her next design. She waits for a touch up on the
dove at her neckline and wants a new tat to match
her daughter-in-law's ankle flowers.
Scott started this process a few years ago, after
her husband of 42 years passed away. She said
she always wanted one, but her sweetie was "old-fashioned"
and wouldn't go for it.
"He always said, `You can't have a tattoo.
Oer my dead body!'" says Scott. "So
here I am."
The tattoo studio in America today is more of
a family affair, and it has come a long way from
the days when bikers and military men dominated
the scene. A study published this year in the
Journal of the American Academy of Dermatology
found 24 percent of adults ages 18 to 50 have
a tattoo. A 2003 Harris poll reported 36 percent
of 25 to 29 year olds have body art.
Studies of tattoos among teens are tougher to
find, but a quick glance around many high schools
today particularly in less regulated states in
the West tells the story. Plenty of teens love
body art, and their parents aren't threatening
to kick them out of the house. Instead, they're
welcoming it.
Take Kaelyn Marcus, who's down the hall from
Scott on a recent day at the bustling Personal
Art tattoo studio in Lake Station. She just turned
17 and is getting her first tattoo. Hers a four-leaf
clover on the ankle is a replica of her mom's,
grandmother's and two aunts'. The design is in
honor of Kaelyn's grandfather, who died six years
ago. Kaelyn's mom Lorna Marcus is all for it.
"I just think tattoos are pretty,"
her mom says, sitting beside a nervous Kaelyn
just before the tattoo needle fires up. "I'm
fine with it."
Myrna Armstrong, a professor at the School of
Nursing at Texas Tech University in Lubbock, is
a national researcher on tattooing. She has studied
the rise of tattooing over nearly two decades.
Her first report, published in the Journal of
Nursing Scholarship in 1990, explored the growing
number of career women getting tattoos. At the
time, she thought of the women as pioneers, defying
stereotypes about the type of person interested
in body art. Now, nothing about the exploding
tattoo industry surprises her.
In two studies of adolescents in the 1990s, she
found 8 percent to 10 percent of teens had a tattoo.
One student reported getting his first tattoo
at age 8.
"Our teenagers today really anyone over
11 years old can tell you all about tattoos and
body piercing. They know where they can get them,
or they have friends who will self inflict them,
or they even know how to do it themselves,"
Armstrong said. "Today, it's just a mainstream
activity."
A handful of states prohibit anyone under the
age of 18 from getting a tattoo. Most states have
age restrictions but still allow tattoos with
the written permission of a parent. Other states
are silent, leaving it up to cities or the tattoo
studios to set rules.
Illinois previously prohibited tattoos until
age 21. But legislators last year moved the age
limit down to 18. State Rep. Jerry Mitchell, a
Republican from Rock Falls, pushed the change
in response to complaints from police, who said
teens were loitering around tattoo and piercing
studios anyway because body piercing at 18 was
legal.
"Some of the tattoo parlors around here
were kind of unsavory places," Mitchell said.
"Police here were concerned about drug trafficking."
Still, many tattoo artists say the legislative
change of heart has been a boon for business,
as teens no longer have to go to neighboring states
for a tat.
Even before the law change, Illinois teens seemed
to have no problem getting tattoos, says Cynthia
Mears, co-director of the adolescent medicine
program for Children's Memorial Hospital. She's
seen "plenty" of 14 and 15 year olds
with tattoos, some of them self applied and some
in places Mears would rather not describe.
One real indicator of the popularity of tattoos
now is the atmosphere at tattoo conventions, says
Bob Baxter, editor in chief of the national tattoo
magazine Skin & Ink.
Baxter, who has been covering the tattoo business
for more than a decade, said conventions are full
of young mothers a rare sight even five years
ago. At a recent convention in Calgary, Baxter
was taken aback by the crowd hovering around Kat
Von D, the 24-year-old female tattoo artist and
star of TLC's "Miami Ink."
"When I walked down the sidewalk years ago,
mothers used to cross to the other side with their
children," said Baxter, who's covered in
body art. "Now, you've got them lined up
to see Kat Von D. It's really a turnaround."
Tattoo fans look at their inks as the perfect
way to express themselves in an impersonal world.
And for many, getting the tattoo is a deeply symbolic,
emotional act.
Tom Webel, a 22-year-old in the Army, got his
first tattoo at 18. While on leave from active
duty in Iraq, he recently showed up at Electric
Art Tattoo in Fox Lake, Ill. He wanted tattoos
of the last names of three young guys in his company,
all of whom died in the war.
Sharon Hurdlow, who is 64, started getting inked
at Sacred Chao tattoo studio in Valparaiso, Ind.,
in the midst of breast cancer treatment two years
ago.
"I just said I have to go get that tattoo,"
she said. "I have to express myself in this
way. Life is too short."
She now has 18 tattoos, many of them symbols
of growth and renewal a red cardinal, a rose,
a bumblebee by a sunflower.
The variety of clients she sees now is downright
heartwarming for Jeanne Fritch, owner of Personal
Art, the Indiana studio that's a favorite of Scott,
the grandmother.
Fritch laughed the other day when a mother's
group called asking to rent her studio for a play
date. The group plans to bring kids ranging in
age from 18 months to 6 for temporary tattoos.
Fritch has been tattooing since 1978. This is
after graduating from Hillsdale College in Michigan,
interning for a congressman in Washington, and
then flooring her conservative parents with the
announcement of her chosen career.
"When I grew up, I didn't even know anyone
with a tattoo," she said. "But it's
way more respected now. When I buy a house, I
can actually say I'm a tattoo artist."
Fritch is even starting in on the fourth generation
for some of her loyal, longtime customers.
Her shop is an inviting place with yellow, faux-painted
walls, hardwood floors and private rooms with
massage tables and chairs with head rests. Fritch
chats quietly with her clients, the tattoo drill
buzzing away, as if she's a dentist preparing
to fill a cavity.
Many of Fritch's clients are hoping to build
a family tradition, and the young clients seem
to put a lot of thought into their artwork. Lauren
Curtis came in with her mom for her first tattoo
before Halloween last year. She was 15, and Curtis
says she thought long and hard about the placement.
"I tried to think about my professional
career. I want to be a marine biologist,"
she said, pointing out the subtle rose on her
shoulder, matching the string of roses inked across
her mother's belly. She said she didn't want anything
she couldn't cover up for an employer, and she's
now looking to expand her inks.
Despite such openness to tattooing among all
ages, some tattoo artists still have work to do
in bringing along the skeptics.
Marianne Gonzalez, the tattoo artist's wife,
saw that firsthand three years ago when she asked
about a business license to open Electric Art
Tattoo. She was fuming after her first phone call
to Village Hall.
"The lady on the phone told me tattoo studios
were considered adult entertainment," Gonzalez
said. "We weren't welcome here."
But Gonzalez fought back and eventually opened
a studio along the main street in downtown Fox
Lake, across the street from the post office.
The shop has a wide range of clients today, including
police officers and fire fighters. Free tattoos
at her shop get raffled off at the police officer's
ball, Gonzalez said.
Indeed, facing the critics and then turning them
around is pure fun for tattoo lovers.
For instance, Scott was tickled by the shocked
reaction from her doctor in an exam before a recent
hip replacement.
"He was like, `What do you call this, Grandma?'
And he was laughing," Scott said. "But
I've got to tell you, it makes me feel younger."