The Battalion
LIFESTYLES
Thursday, February 8,1990 Lifestyles Editor Mary-Lynne Rice 845-33r Thui
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A flashing neon arrow points to
one of the few stores open
along Texas Ave. at 2:30 in the
morning. But it’s not an all-
night convenience store, it’s
Bill Nelson’s tattoo parlor, kept open for
local “vampires” like himself.
“One of the main reasons I opened the
shop,” Nelson says, “was so that people
who didn’t have anywhere to go in the
middle of the night and are used to being
vampires like myself could have a place
to hang out without the threat of getting
drunk, and could have someone to talk
to.”
On New Year’s Eve 1989, Nelson and
his wife, Sherry, opened the Skin Deep
tattoo shop at 3519 A. S. Texas Ave. in
Bryan. “New Years’ Eve — my new be
ginning,” he says.
“I was in a situation where my life
really sucked. I split up with my wife,
and I was really heavy into drugs and al
cohol and I just said, ‘The hell with all
that. I’m about to die if I keep going like
this.’ ”
Nelson entered a 12-step self-help pro
gram for drug and alcohol abuse. What
he learned has carried into his business.
His employees are all members of the re
covery program. A sign on a rear wall
lists Skin Deep’s house rules: No alco
hol, No drugs, No drunks.
After years of roughnecking in the oil
fields of south Texas, Nelson decided it
was time to start a new life. That oppor
tunity presented itself when a friend in
his recovery program had his tattoo
equipment stolen. A deal was struck be
tween the two.
“My friend had nothing to make a liv
ing with,” Nelson says. “So he said, ‘If
you buy the equipment, I’ll teach you
how to do it. ’
“So I sold my boat and bought some
tattoo equipment. I’ve been doing it ever
since. I love it.”
Although Nelson claims he is from a
family of artistic talent, he never envi
sioned that he would take up art as a
trade.
“It always seemed boring to me,” Nel
son says. “I could just never see myself
doing it.”
His new career changed his mind,
however. Nelson takes great pride in
having his art exhibited on live canvases.
“It’s just like if a painter had paint
ings,” he says, “and people carried them
around in the streets and showed them
off so that people could see them every
day. That’s what turns me on. That is
why I’m a tattoo artist.”
I here’s a lot to it. It’s not just a
bunch of biker guys who got
together and decided to get out
some needles or anything.”
— Bill Nelson,
tattoo shop owner
But Nelson feels more comfortable
with a needle than with a pen. Graphic
artist Jim Stevens sketches the designs
that Nelson tattoos.
“I can draw up stuff that people would
be satisfied with, but I’m not satisfied
with it,” Nelson says. “I’ve got a graphic
artist who does great work ... We get
original work out that is just beautiful
and not just an anchor or a heart with
‘Mom’ written through it.”
Nelson terms anchor and heart designs
as “flash” — heavily-copied patterns.
His most requested design?
“Basically, Greek letters,” Nelson
claims. “Because the guys in the fraterni
ties and the girls in the sororities ...
they’re clones, man. Everybody has got
to have them in the same place. They’ve
got to have the same exact size, the same
colors.
“The most popular place is the inside
ankle where their moms can’t see them,”
he says.
But not everybody wants to hide their
tattoos. The arm is still the most popular
place, and Nelson’s walls are covered
with Polaroid shots of patrons showing
off their brand-new tattoos. Many of
them are Texas A&M students.
“They’re about half my business, as a
matter of fact,” Nelson says. “I couldn’t
believe it. I didn’t think students would
get tattoos. But they keep me here until
the wee hours of the morning.”
Along with the late-night stragglers,
Skin Deep’s regulars —the “tattoo jun
kies,” stay until all hours watching TV,
telling tattoo stories and supporting each
other’s new-found sobriety. Included in
the tales are stories of tattoos gone
wrong.
Covering up tattoos is Nelson’s speci
ality. He emphasizes the importance of
choosing a clean, reputable shop.
“There are people who don’t know
what they’re doing, who can cause per
manent damage,” he says. “If you’re not
careful, you can turn someone’s skin into
hamburger meat.
“There are a lot of tattoo shops in
Texas where tattoing is big business, and
they just don’t want to take the time to be
as sterile as they need to be. Some shops
in Houston go through 15 to 20 people
without changing needles.
“I claim to be the most sterile shop in
the state of Texas.”
Although Texas does not require tattoo
shops to have special health permits or
tattoo licenses, Nelson believes a shop’s
credibility depends on the responsibility
and proficiency of the its owner.
“There’s a lot to it,” Nelson says. “It’s
not just a bunch of biker guys who got to
gether and decided to get out some nee
dles or anything.”
Pat Beck, an employee of TTI in Bryan, examines his new tat
too. Beck designed the tattoo himself.
PHOTOS by JAY JANNER STORY by JOHN RIGHTER and MARY-LYNNE RICE