Tattoo artists needle state
Art on a canvas of skin resists ban by demand

By John David Sutter
Staff Writer

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Sunday, February 26, 2006
Edition: CITY, Section: NEWS, Page 1A

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“TATTOO” is outlined in ink-red letters on the entrance to the First Amendment Tattoo Co. The word — a bold-faced reference to an act that’s illegal in Oklahoma — is printed from floor to ceiling two more times on the tattoo parlor’s glass-panel storefront in Bricktown.

Out on the street, neon-colored signs point patrons — and police — to the shop.

And inside, as Oklahoma City tattoo artist Bobby Deneen colors the words “DADDY’S GIRL” on a bubbly 19-year-old’s back, he breaks an Oklahoma law — and her skin — about 3,000 times per minute.

Oklahoma is the only state that bans tattooing. Tattoo artists once inked their clients only behind closed doors, often in home kitchens or bedrooms. But in the past year at least eight tattoo parlors have opened in Oklahoma City and many are advertising their existence.

First Amendment Tattoo Co. spends about $5,000 a month on ads that appear on cable TV, on the radio and in select magazines, owner Chris Brady said.

Parlor owners hope their existence prods members of the Oklahoma Legislature to scratch the ban from the books. They say the law is antiquated, and health groups say it’s unsafe to let tattoo parlors operate without regulation.

Robin Powell, who had “DADDY’S GIRL” tattooed on her back, just wants to surprise her father.

She decided to start the tattoo — a permanent show of affection, she says — when her dad was on a summer-long trip to Africa. She missed him.

“He’s like out of town a lot because the business he runs is in Orange County, California,” Powell said. “We’ve just gotten really close as I’ve gotten older.”

Not that she’s told him about the tattoo.

“I figure, if it says, ‘DADDY’S GIRL,’ I mean, he can’t be that mad.”

Arrests

This could be the day — again.

A young woman walks in First Amendment’s door, asks Deneen to tattoo the Chinese symbol for “serenity” on her ankle.

Then, as soon as Deneen agrees to do the work, the woman — an undercover police officer — calls for backup.

Police rush through First Amendment’s doors, take Deneen’s portfolio of work, then wisk him off to county jail where he is handcuffed to a rail and dressed in an orange jumpsuit.

This is what Deneen says happened. He has been arrested twice, spent 27 hours in jail and paid $1,000 in bail for illegally tattooing. And he’s not alone.

As parlors have started advertising, police have taken notice. In Oklahoma City, nine tattoo artists were arrested in 2005, police spokesman Sgt. Charles Phillips said. But none were arrested in the city in years before that, he said.

Phillips said police use sting operations, like the one Deneen described, to catch tattoo artists in the act. Officers go undercover and ask for a tattoo. And once an artist agrees to do the work for a fee, police make arrests.

Tattoo parlor owners view the bail payments and potential court costs as business expenses. Workers say they must accept that they could be handcuffed on any workday.

“Every day I hope that I don’t have to go to jail again. But I love to do what I’m doing, man, and I’m willing to fight for it,” Deneen said. “I feel that we’re pioneers here in Oklahoma.

“I don’t really consider myself a criminal. I’m an artist, you know.”

Deneen says tattooing is his passion.

It’s art. It’s human.

The skin is his canvas.

“That’s really why I love it, because it’s so personal,” he said. “You get deep into it and you end up making a lot of friends with people.”

State Rep. Al Lindley, D-Oklahoma City, says this is the year the ban will fall.

Bills to repeal the tattoo ban typically have died quickly. Lindley authored several of those bills. But this year he’s certain things will be different.

With tattoo parlors open all over the capital city, he thinks lawmakers are being pushed into a corner.

At the end of last year’s session, Lindley’s most recent bill — much of which was written by health officials — passed the Senate. It now waits in the House Health and Human Services Committee for a hearing.

There it faces opponents, including the committee chairman, Rep. Kris Steele, R-Shawnee.

A similar bill last year was not heard by the committee. Steele said it was a low priority. He has not decided whether this year’s bill — SB 806 — will get time on the committee floor.

Steele said logic behind the push for legalization is flawed — just because people are doing something doesn’t mean it should be legalized. He cites prostitution and needle injected drug use as examples.

“We have our own set of values in Oklahoma,” Steele said. “And those values are what make us unique.”

Sen. Frank Shurden, D-Henryetta, supports legalization. His prediction on this year’s legislation:

“I’d say two chances — slim and none,” he said. “Unless people demand it.”

But Shurden and others find hope in the courts.

Courts taking up tattoo issue

A Tulsa County judge threw out one case against a tattoo artist on the basis that tattoos are not permanent markings and can be removed with laser surgery. State law forbids someone from making a “permanent indelible mark” on human skin.

That ruling caused tattoo parlors to open in Tulsa, and the trend moved southwest toward Oklahoma City.

Now Oklahoma County has a case that attorney Jaye Mendros says will be the definite end to the ban if the Legislature doesn’t act.

Mendros has filed court paperwork arguing the ban violates two tattoo artists’ first amendment rights to free expression. She says she will appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court if necessary.

Cosmetic tattooing is legal in Oklahoma. That discriminates against artists who want the same rights, Mendros says.

Those arrested for tattooing face up to a $500 fine and 90 days in jail. But they’ve rarely faced prosecution.

In Oklahoma County, three cases — all involving one man — are open for prosecution and likely will go to jury trial, said Debra Forshee, spokeswoman for the district attorney.

In Tulsa County, tattoo artists seem almost safe from prosecution.

Tulsa County District Attorney Tim Harris said the law seems “a little bit antiquated” and consequently is low on his list of priorities.

“If people want to get tatted, have at it, baby,” he said.

Powell pulls at the straps of her tank top with clenched fists. She winces and takes a deep breath.

She’s getting tatted, baby.

But she says she feels safe, even if the pain is enough to make her bite her lip through a smile.

The shop artists use disposable parts and clean their instruments the same way surgeons do. In Deneen’s work space is a certificate that shows he’s completed a blood-borne pathogens course, taken by nurses, and is certified in CPR and first aid.

But none of those precautions are required.

Since it’s not legal, tattooing cannot be regulated by the Oklahoma Health Department.

“The Health Department doesn’t come through here,” Deneen said. “We want ’em to. As far as we know, we’re doing everything right.”

Many diseases can be transmitted through needles, some deadly. Hepatitis C can be transmitted when tattooing, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

For that reason the Oklahoma State Medical Association and the state Health Department are behind tattoo regulation.

“So long as they’re unregulated and they exist in the numbers they do in the state — which keep increasing — the risk to the public continues to increase,” said Kevin Pipes, the Health Department’s chief of staff. He said people should understand that when they get an unregulated tattoo, “they’re risking their health and possibly their life.”

Between 2000 and 2003, hepatitis C infections in Oklahoma increased by 78 percent, according to Health Department data. More than a third of those who got the virus said they also had a tattoo.

Nationwide, the correlation between tattoos and hepatitis C appears to be much lower. Over the past 20 years, less than 1 percent of those newly infected with hepatitis C had a tattoo, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Deneen, who did tattoos in his buddy’s garage apartment before going to work at First Amendment, said there are at least 100 places to get a tattoo in Oklahoma City’s underground scene. He guesses about a third of those artists know the proper sterilization techniques that prevent passing infections.

Lindley’s bill to legalize tattooing calls for health regulations similar to those used for the piercing industry — regular inspections, required training and disposable equipment. Tattoo parlors would pay inspection fees to cover the costs.

Daddy’s girl

Powell’s friend holds up the back of her tank top as Deneen tapes a bandage over the finished tattoo — a heart.

Flames spark off the top of the drawing, cool-toned flowers frame the bottom and a tattered ribbon crosses its middle, inscribed with the words, “DADDY’S GIRL.”

It’s a design Powell brought in on paper and Deneen tidied up before etching into her back. He changed some colors and altered the flames to fit her personality.

“They were very smoky, awkward, gross flames” before Deneen re-drew them, Powell said.

This is the part of his job Deneen enjoys most.

And Powell walks out the store’s glass door — changed.