 April 2010 |
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I wonder what's going to happen when the dust settles. Here we are, the spring of 2010, and there is a tattoo shop on practically every corner in every town, big or small, on the planet. Permanent Mark tells me that, when he visited Yellow Knife, a tiny, pioneer town in the uppermost reaches of the Northwest Territory, there were four new shops opening. If the picture postcard he sent me is any indication, the addition of four new shops in Yellow Knife would bring the grand total of retail establishments in the town to six. Tattoo studios are cropping up everywhere. A couple of tattoo artists have a falling out and the one without a signature on the lease opens a shop down the street. It's like watching molecules multiply. The formula for this phenomenon might be expressed: F=TS2 . Falling-out equals Tattoo Shop squared. Clearly-in case you have been experiencing a blackout and didn't notice-this is the era of tattoo shops and coffee shops. Perhaps the coffee shops have an edge in numbers, but not by much. In fact, things have gotten so out of hand that it's probably just a matter of time until some bright-eyed and bushy-tailed entrepreneur creates a Starbuck's of tattoo with similarly outfitted tattoo parlors featuring smiling cashiers to assist you in choosing from a list of tempting products from the wall behind the register. "I'll have the Sailor Jerry Rock of Ages poster with extra foam," says the customer. "Will you have the Kat Von D signature eye shadow with that?" asks the cashier. Now, don't get me wrong. Having so many tattoo parlors is a positive sign. Society has accepted pictures all over your body as okay by them. I remember when guys with long hair experienced the same transition of acceptance. Men with unshorn locks cascading to their shoulders were called "hippies" and worse. I remember gas station attendants asking me, "Fill 'er up, ma'am?" I had long, blond tresses back then and the attendant couldn't see my face from his vantage point. It wasn't because-oh, never mind. In any event, when social mores changed and long hair became acceptable, there were no more hassles and the very people who made the loudest clatter in the beginning ended up being the main ones clinging to the look even today. Check out the latest, hunkiest country music performers. Every guitar case nowadays contains a pocket for picks, a capo and a bottle of conditioner. Longhairs used to get hassled something fierce in the South and, now, among yesterday's rednecks, ponytails and earrings are de rigueur. The mainstream folks who used to cross the street whenever they saw a tattoo coming are now waving down the very same "freaks" and asking to check out their artwork. In situations where my tattoos are visible, I get stopped at the supermarket, eye-balled in theater lines and physically poked at swimming pools. America is literally tattoo-crazy! But like any fad of the day, the majority of the population will ultimately lose their interest in tattoos and find some new oddity to gawk at. But, wait a minute. We have something different here, don't we? Tattoos aren't like hula hoops that can be stacked in some warehouse or relegated to the trash heap. No quick trip to the barbershop to erase the fashion statement. Tattoos aren't that disposable. The public interest in tattoos may fade but the tattoos themselves won't. As they say, "Tattoos are forever," and, once you've been inked, no barbershop or tattoo parlor can make them disappear. The enormous popularity may dissipate but the tattoos themselves will always remain. I emphasize the word always. Talk about always, this Editor's Comment, with the exception of a date and a of couple name changes, is printed verbatim from our March 1998 issue. Funny that since July 1, 2008, ten years later, Starbucks has closed over six hundred of their company-owned stores, while tattoo shops multiply every day. Now, who would have guessed? -Bob Baxter, Editor in Chief SKIN&INK |
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