Nine was everything I'd hoped for and nothing I expected from a tattoo parlour. But Nine call themselves a 'studio' and not a parlour, so perhaps therein lies the difference. Situated between a couple of Pubs, the understated window-front and elegant scripted lettering gives Nine the look of an art gallery. This style continues within, where original artwork on canvas and in frames by the tattoo artists working there decorate the walls. Squishy black leather chairs and white embossed wallpaper create the feel of a boutique. Such a plush and classy look I did not expect, in fact the unfamiliar environment is what worried me most. I was afraid of feeling intimidated and out of place. I had visions of big hairy bikers, giant tough guys glittering with piercings, all getting flaming skulls, cross-bones and bleeding roses inked on.
I realise that's a pretty outdated stereotype. Actually when I arrived there was a couple talking to one of the staff about potential design ideas. They must have been in their late 40's, well dressed, seemingly normal sorts - they could have been my parents. And the fact is there is no 'typical tattoo type' anymore. There is much less of a stigma as it becomes more common-place and anyone from your boss to your grandmother might be inclined to get themselves in the tattooist's chair.
Nine have a waiting list months long, which I took as an indication of how sought after their artist's must be. I contacted a few places by email, as I'm not local to Brighton, and was attracted to the kind of work this studio produced. There is a good mix of styles and being an artist myself, it felt important to find a tattoo artist with some good ol natural ability on show. Frightening enough I was going to pay someone to cover my arm in ink and stab me (alright 'stab' might be a tad dramatic..) but if I was going to let anyone do that they were going to be art-wired.
Although all the artists at Nine had beautiful work on display on the website, one guy's work stood out for me. Jack, whose figurative painterly style was not unlike my own, was the tattooist I booked myself in with. You can check out his portfolio here.
A couple of Jack's tattoos...
That was late last year, warned of course that I'd have to wait till March until Jack was available, but what with this being a huge decision for me that would last a life-time, I was happy to wait it out.
Now whatever your reason for getting inked might be, I just believe you should have one. It's your body, your skin and there's no rewinding on this. (I don't count getting them lazered off, as I'm yet to see one that leaves no trace at all). I had the idea of getting a tattoo months ago and the thought wouldn't leave me alone. I kept coming back to my sketchbooks, drawing and redrawing ideas, trawling the Internet for advice and stories of experience. Eventually I decided on a small, mostly line drawing with a little colour. I wanted it applied discreetly on the underside of my left wrist, my painting arm, to be visible whenever I was working. This tattoo was to mark the place I have arrived at with my art and the spiritual strength and identity it gives me. Measuring up at an inch and a half in width - that's a tall order for such a tiny tatt! Small maybe, but hugely important to me.
Thankfully my tattoo artist, Jack, was very respectful of this. I'd found his MySpace online so knew what he looked like. He was easy to talk to, friendly, and explained everything to me in great depth as I questioned anything and everything. I just found it all really fascinating, such a strange profession to be in and I can't imagine it's ever boring. He told me that skin can differ from person to person and that some ethnicities are easier to tattoo than others. He made a transfer from my print out and we went downstairs to an open room where one other guy was getting work done.
Last chance to run! But in truth I never entertained the thought.
We played around with the placement, checking it from all angles in a full length mirror until I was happy. Next my colours were mixed in tiny plastic pots from various inks until they were as I wanted. Again, I didn't feel rushed but guided and my opinions listened to.
And so, this was it!
I'd read online that you should always make sure you see new needles being used and that plastic gloves are worn by your artist, which they were. I found Nine to be totally clean, tidy and methodically laid out. There was nothing left to do but lay back and visualise myself back on the beach, listening to waves in the warm sun, just as I had been a few hours earlier.
'The first 10 minutes are usually the most painful,' he warned, but I think for me the last 10 minutes of shading the colour was the real pinch. I never had a description from someone of what getting a tattoo really feels like that satisfied me. A friend of mine likened it to having a bread knife dragged across their chest, but some areas, I'm told, are worse than others. For me, the back of the wrist did hurt, but in an oddly nice way. Maybe I'm a little masochistic, but I liked the new and unusual experience. Yes it hurt, and I'd say it felt like someone was dragging a hot pin across my skin - which I suppose someone was - but I wasn't in agony. It felt good to be feeling something happening whilst reminding myself why I was getting it done. I'd read about numbing gels, which is perhaps used for those undergoing hours and hours of inking, but personally I think I preferred the feeling of being connected to what was going on. He asked me how I was, 'Yeah I can handle this,' I said.
We chatted a little about art, our general shared disregard for art in the education system and after about 40-50 minutes he was done. I sat up, he cleaned it down, I gave it a look and found it completely perfect. I wanted to say the right words so he knew I was ecstatic with the end result, as I'm sure the pressure to get these things right must be pretty huge. But I think I gabbled away, feeling quite surreal and a bit euphoric about the whole thing. He dressed it in cling film and advised me on how to care for it whilst it heals. This was also detailed on a print out he gave me. I paid (cash only please), thanked him (yet again!) and left.
Part of me couldn't believe I'd actually done it. Still can't, as I stare at it now. I walked down to the beach once more and stayed there watching the sun melt into the sea. My design includes a Zuni sunface, which in part honours the rising and setting of the sun as a bringer of life, a reminder of such stability and consistency. Twas the perfect end to my experience.
The Brighton sun falling over the West Pier...
Today E45 has been my best friend and it stings just a little. But I'm so pleased with the result and if I wanted further work I would of course return to Nine.
Now I'm on the other side, knowing what it feels like, I reckon I understand the appeal of doing this. You're making your body unique to you and as you want it. You're no longer really comparable to anyone else because no one else will be wearing the same skin as you, in the exact same way. It's wonderfully self-satisfying, because how often do we really do things just for ourselves? For me it is a big affirmation of how rooted I feel in my own skin and how I'm sure of who I am.
This is where I might disappoint you, because I'm in two minds about posting the end result here. I did it for me and don't really want to be flashing it about like my latest accessory, but I did want to blog about the good people of Nine and how it felt.
But meh, I'm a girl - I might later change my mind.
Guess all you can really do is watch this space. In the meantime, why not watch this great interview with Ade, another of Nine's artist by Tattoo TV.
Tattoo TV - Ade - NineTattoo, Brighton (UK) on MUZU
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment