How did you get started in tattooing?

I grew up in the suburbs of Cleveland in a town called Westlake. It was very white collar, right wing, con- servative. Everybody was Republican. I was just a troublemaker, a lost sort of kid. In high school I started thinking that being a tattoo artist might be something I’d be good at. About a year after high school I walked into a tattoo shop with a friend I had drawn a design for, and the guys at the shop really liked it. They offered me an apprenticeship.

What was that shop like?

It was like an assembly line. On Saturdays it wasn’t uncommon to tattoo 60 people. Now I feel like the best way to learn is to do high-volume simple tattoos. You really work on your technical skills, and it was also a crash course in dealing with people because you’re dealing with so many, and so many different types of skin and personality types. You learn how to comfort people really quick. Everybody was really uncomfortable because they knew I was new—I looked like a baby and I was a girl, so I had things stacked against me. The needle grouping I was working with and the stencil application process were all super old-school. It was the hardest way I could have possibly learned. But I’m glad because I had to learn how to use a single needle. Everything since then has been a step up.

You worked with Guy Aitchison from ’96 to ’99. What was the atmosphere like then compared with now?

At that time, there were only a handful of artists doing groundbreaking things, and he was at the forefront of it. He was blazing the trail. Now that it’s opened up to so many more people, there are a bunch of people who are doing really groundbreaking things. Or they’re pushing boundaries—they’re not necessarily the frontiers-men or the progenitors, the pioneers that Guy was, but they’re still pushing the craft as far as they can. People like Nikko Hurtado and Jeff Gogue—there are so many tattoo artists doing such phenomenal stuff. If I were starting out now, I don’t even know if they’d let me in. I feel lucky that I got in when I did.

You ran your tattoo studio, Cherry Bomb, in Chicago for 10 years. Are you starting another shop?

Yes. Rachel Larratt from BME zine and I have decided to open our own workspace together.

What will you call it?

Hannah and I were talking about it. She’s going to work between there and Chicago. We had all these names going around. Hannah said, “Call it ‘Honeybutter.’” I was like,“What?” [Laughs.] How about “The Righteous Sisters,” huh? Maybe “Pink Skull”? We want to bring back nerdiness—me and my fantasy art and Hannah and her pinup girls. I know I’m cheesy, I know I’ve listened to Journey and Hawkwind for years, and my artwork looks like it’s out of fairy tales, and I’m fucking fine with that. That’s totally okay with me, and if people want to make fun of me, that’s fine. I had fun with it. That’s all that matters.

What would be your ideal tattoo shop?

In Chicago, I enjoyed having a shop that was off street level. I’m not a big walk-in person. I like the idea of people going there with a solid intention and coming out with a tattoo they went in there for, not just going in on a whim and getting tattooed, or not having people stroll by. Maybe that’s a bad business idea, but I don’t care—that’s never been a concern of mine. My major concern is that the environment promotes creativity and is comfortable. It should be a sanctuary for the artists to work and do the best work they possibly can.

Your line of Vans is another new thing on your horizon. How did that come about?

My friend Frankie Orange is a tour manager and tattoo artist who now works with a lot of bands. He said, “If you’d ever be interested in doing some Vans, I can run it by my friend Kurt Soto, who’s a Vans rep, and see if he’d be interested.” So he did, on a whim, and Kurt thought it was a good idea. I think they wanted to work with a female artist. I did 10 rough sketches of ideas that were sort of my style, and they were excited about them. The overall theme was definitely very girly, iconic, fun, and colorful. The shoes come out in June; the apparel and accessories come out in July. There are bags, jeans, a sweatshirt, a T-shirt, a belt, and four different shoes.

Do you think tattoos have to have underlying meaning?

I really don’t, because I think it is a marking of a time or a place, and sometimes people get tattooed just because it looks cool. That’s why I can never put a definition on something that people get. There are things that are obvious—like a memorial tattoo, something that’s quite blatant—but why do people get sacred toasters? Because they love toast or because they want something that’s ’90s- fantastic and shiny metallic on their arm?

Like that eyeball tattoo on your shoulder that Corey Miller covered up with the purple rose?

That was ’90s-fantastic. It was my cheesy idea that he executed beautifully. Actually, that tattoo held up so well. It didn’t spread [and] it didn’t fade, which is really good testimony to his skills. But I’ve seen a few purple roses on women’s shoulders.

Does that piss you off?

No, it just makes me think they’re not original. I definitely understand someone liking the way something is laid out on someone’s body or liking the idea, but, yeah, it’s totally bad juju to copy someone else’s tattoo. I guess it’s not as bad as seeing stars on some girl’s face.

Have you seen that?

I have. Get your own ideas.