Half of me expected Dragon’s Gate Tattoo Studio to be filled with the sounds of heavy metal and the smell of cigarette smoke — the other half secretly hoped I’d be walking to some sci-fi, fantasy tattoo wonderland.
Instead, the parlor’s interior looked more like an art studio than the Batcave. Sunlight flooded the open space, and the walls were adorned with pictures of a few of owner Scott Ibey’s designs (both on skin and paper), alongside adorable photos of his two baby girls. And so much for the heavy metal fantasy. Ibey listened to smooth jazz as he stenciled a design onto customer Angie Blake’s lower back. To help customers relax during sittings, which can last all day, Ibey said he lets them pick a genre of their choosing, as long as they avoid the evils of techno and country-pop.
While T-Swift die-hards may never, ever, ever consider Dragon’s Gate after reading this, Ibey is already the College’s favorite tattoo artist. He’s been the sole owner of Dragon’s Gate, located in the heart of Enfield just 20 minutes from campus, for 10 years.
Ibey said that over the last decade, Dartmouth’s culture seems to have “loosened up” a lot, which corresponds with an increase in business from students and other clients affiliated with the College.
Each year, Ibey inks about 200 tattoos for Dartmouth’s secret society members, who are his most consistent student customers (he had a few scheduled to come in after I met with him). Every few years, smaller groups affiliated with athletic teams and Greek houses also get tattoos, he said.
Dartmouth students, Ibey said, are usually nervous and appear more out of their element than his typical clientele. In addition to being afraid of the process itself, Ibey said many students worry about hiding their new tattoo from their parents.
Colin Quinn ’15, who has tatted parents, never had such a fear. He always knew he would someday have ink of his own. Quinn’s parents bought him his first tattoo as a gift for getting into Dartmouth. The day of the inking, Quinn’s mother also got a new tattoo, of a lilac blossom tree and a bamboo-eating panda, for solidarity’s sake. Although Colin doesn’t ascribe much symbolic meaning to his tattoos, he refers to them as “bookmarks” in his life, describing how each one delineates chapters of his personal growth.
Even with parental consent, Quinn had concerns about the visibility of his tattoos. He carefully planned his first piece, an armor design that expands from his upper arm, across his chest, shoulder and back, to avoid the neckline of a typical shirt.
Ibey also stressed the importance of getting a first tattoo in a discreet location. Though his tattoos cover his arms, he assured me that inking your face, neck or hands is pretty much never a good idea, especially for a first-timer.
When it comes to Dartmouth students, Ibey added that the nature of most students’ future jobs increases the importance of discretion.
“If you’re going to an Ivy League school, you’re probably not going to want to work on a dock or in a kitchen,” Ibey said.
He’s got a point. While our generation has come to embrace tattoos as trendy and artistic, we’ve done so cautiously. Cecelia Shao ’16, who plans to pursue finance or banking, expressed similar concerns about the visibility of her three tattoos, which she carefully chose to place above her collarbone, on her right hip and on her upper back.
Shao is a former member of The Dartmouth staff.
Although Kate Shelton ’14 has three of her four tattoos in discreet places, she pointed to Abby Sciuto, the tatted and pierced character from “NCIS,” as a role model, explaining that she wants her work to speak for itself.
“I want to be so good at whatever I do that it doesn’t matter if I have tattoos or purple hair,” she said.
For Billy Peters ’15, who has 10 tattoos, the visibility of his ink doesn’t present much of a concern. He said his tattoos are there for people to see, and he loves it when the designs — which range from a Direwolf on one side of his body to a tattooed woman on his other side -— force onlookers to do a double take. Then again, he also admitted to adoring attention.
Ibey also said he has witnessed a reduction in the social stigma surrounding tattoos, though he said it continues to exist.
“There’s always going to be a little bit of a stigma — it wouldn’t be fun otherwise,” he said.
But a mentality shift seems to have taken place in Hanover. Ibey has tatted at least three Dartmouth professors, not to mention a consistent stream of surgeons and nurses from Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center. Out of respect for his clients, that’s all he could tell me on the professor front — but keep your eyes peeled around campus, come spring and short sleeves.
And people on campus do notice those of us with tattoos. Shao said that while other students do often ask her about the meanings behind her tattoos, for her, it’s all about the aesthetics.
Shelton, who dances, acts and even teaches Zumba, said the connection between mind and body drives her choice of tattoos.
“My body is my tool, it’s my art form,” she said. “I want to express that on my skin.”
Shelton’s four tattoos each have a history and meaning of their own, which she said requires at least an hour to fully explain.
The words “Break Free,” written in her own handwriting across her side, held a special meaning for Shelton while she was confronting an eating disorder.
“I would see those words in my handwriting and know that I could keep going, and ever since my recovery it’s become especially more powerful to me,” she said.
Bri Fontaine ’16 and a group of freshman floormates also derive strength from matching arrow tattoos they got in Montreal last summer. Fontaine explained that after suffering through meningitis, she endured constant, severe back pain throughout her freshman year, on top of the typical struggles that accompany one’s first year of college. Each of the friends involved, she said, had also endured personal hardships throughout the year. The arrow, then, symbolized moving forward.
“I think it kind of reminds me how important having a support system is,” Fontaine said.
Across the board, the students I spoke with did not worry about eventually regretting their tattoos. As Shelton said, “permanence is the point.” The designs may start as exterior embellishments, but over time, they become integral aspects of each individual’s personality, no matter what that implies.
“This is something static on your body, but you, as a person, are fluid,” Shao said.
Whether the tattoo commemorates the loss of a loved one, initiates you into a group or provides closure, it’s there to stay, and it’ll play a role in forming new memories just as it preserves the old ones.
I had my first experience in a tattoo parlor at 5 years old. There to get my ears pierced, I felt out of my element, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the artist. I remember openly gaping at his arms, which were totally covered in vibrant designs. After a few minutes, I finally tore my eyes away long enough to ask, “Mommy, how does that man have so many stamps?”
I couldn’t have told you then what a tattoo was. But I knew without a doubt that this guy had power — more, he had finesse. And all I wanted was to understand. Even now, I get the feeling that I’m just beginning to see what tattoos mean to those who have them, especially here at Dartmouth.
But I can’t even settle on a major, let alone a permanent tattoo. So I’m sticking to inkpad stamps for now. If I do change my mind, I’m heading back to Dragon’s Gate with sage advice in mind, the soundtrack to “Frozen” (2013) in hand and an image worth inking.
